Radio doings (Dec 1930-Jun1932)

Good Si An Enigma to Skeptics — A Thorn in the Side of Orthodoxy — But No Puzzle At All to the Poor AT 2:30 one afternoon I stepped into Reverend Ethel Duncan's ofl. fice for an interview. At 4:30 I stepped out of Reverend Duncan's office with an interview — and something else. I left with the conviction that she was one of the most remarkable women I have ever met. She is an imposing figure — tall and large, with high, square shoulders, and an erect, dignified bearing that commands attention. Her face is refined and pleasant, and she speaks with a low throaty voice, that is hard to forget — a voice betraying the radiant, energetic personality that she is. She first took me on an inspection tour of her offices. Originally her own residence, the swift growth of her activities necessitated her moving her personal belongings to another house, and devoting all the available space in the old one for her workers. It was a bee hive of activity. In each of the three large ground-floor rooms, formerly her parlor and dining room, are desks, typewriters, and long tables. There were eleven girls at work when I entered, seven of them lined up at a long table clacking away at tyepwriters. Three in the dining room were busy opening mail and filing letters. Stacks of mail stood on every desk and table, and the tops of the long rows of steel Page Twenty-four Ethel Duncan waits table herself at her Thanks giving dinners for the poor. filing cabinets were covered with baskets of envelopes waiting for attention. Cellar and attic were filled with them. Even the kitchen had been converted into a secretarial office, manned by a girl and a typewriter. Every drawer, every cupboard — even the old buffet, was filled to overflowing with letters. ETHEL DUNCAN The whole scene resembled some; large, informal post-office, during rush season. Every individual was working like mad at her particular job. She has eighteen girl secretaries in the summer, and thirty-six in the winter. Reverend Duncan explained each process to me as we went along. When the letters arrive, one girl does nothing else but classify them and stack them in their respective piles according to their contents. They are divided into eighteen possible groups — those asking for food, for advice, money for bills, letters of congratulation, questions for Mrs. Duncan to answer, either by radio or by mail, and many other classifications. Another girl files the letters, turning those asking for help and advice over to one of her associates, and the other kinds to other girls. Each girl files her letters. The one who has the question letters for Reverend Duncan to answer opens the letter, and pins envelope and letter together. She then circles the actual question with a blue pencil, and passes the letters over to another secretary, whose sole duty is to write the initials of the writer in the upper left corner, to facilitate Mrs. Duncan's work in reading the initials and questions over the air. Most of the letters are asking for help of some kind. As I watched the girl open the letters, I could see gas bills, doctor bills, glimpses of phrases such as "can't pay," "don't know how to meet it," "can you send something to help," and so on ; each one a desperate plea for aid. A few years ago, just before Christmas, Reverend Duncan, already wellknown, bought a few minutes' time on station KFOX. She gave a brief plea for food and clothing to be distributed among needy families. She had hardly returned to her home from the broadcast when the gifts began to pour in. By noon the next day she had enough to fill a five-ton truck! Flour, shoes, fruit, potatoes — everything imaginable was given, and it took twenty-five of her volunteers in cars to distribute it among the poor at Christmas. RADIO DOINGS