Radio doings (Dec 1930-Jun1932)

Three Musketeers [Continued from Page 9] tie went over the air and the listener himself was pervaded with tenseness. Then came the bombshell. We had been buying the transcripts from Stanley Frazer and Marie Keller, the official court reporters, for use in our broadcasts. One afternoon, Frazer rushed breathlessly into our remote room. "Say — " he panted, "Judge Murray just ordered that we can't sell those transcripts to radio anymore!" Guy Earl borrowed another cigarette and paced the floor slowly: Johnson sat down and began thinking, presumably: I was thoroughly floored. No transcripts — no broadcasts — no broadcasts i — we lose! Earl broke the silence. "We'll get our own reporters and put 'em in the courtroom — and get our own transcripts," the unbeatable Earl pronounced. "Yaaa — " snorted Johnson, "'an we'll get that judge for discrimination too — he lets the newspapers have those transcripts— and refuses them to us — that's — why that's showing partiality — I'll get a writ!" No matter what the emergency, Johnson always gets a writ and it usually works, too. Attorneys went to work, but Judge Murray beat us to it. He ordered the reporters to stop selling the transcripts to newspapers too — thereby avoiding the possibility of discrimination. "Judge," I moaned, later the same day, "why are you being so tough with us — after all we only want to broadcast the truth?" "I'm not going to let you make a circus of a murder trial — next thing they'll be selling peanuts to the crowd outside!" The first week of the trial was over and we had not missed a broadcast. Then Johnson was called before a committee composed of members of the Los Angeles Bar Association. The meeting was held in Judge Doran's chambers and Judge Murray was there. The Clark trial jurist was pacing stormily up and down the room when Johnson entered. "Now this has got to stop," was the radio man's greeting from Judge Mur ray. "I met a friend of mine from Madera county on the street today and he said he'd heard those broadcasts and my voice didn't sound right — now that isn't fair and I won't stand for it!" But soft answers turneth away wrathful judges— and Johnson quietly reminded Judge Murray that his own order had prevented the radio audience from hearing his own voice. Campbell, Bailey and Jannings at last were satisfied and went away quite happy. Then we broadcast an appeal to our listeners for telegrams. "And if you want these broadcasts to continue — if you want to hear the truth of this trial, send a telegram right now to Judge Murray in the Hall of Justice and tell him to allow us to have the official transcripts of this case." Telegraph wires buzzed — messenger boys streamed into the citadel of justice. "Where's Judge Murray sitting?" they asked. In less than an hour, more than 100 telegrams were handed to the judge while the trial was in progress. More than two thousand were delivered to Judge Murray during the session. A reporter rushed up to the clerk. "Why all the telegrams?" "Those?" answered the clerk hesitantly, "Why the Judge's dog just died and these telegrams are condolences — the judge thought a lot of that dog." The skeptical reporter approached the judge. "Too bad about your dog, judge," he whispered. "What do you mean 'dog'," he snorted, "It's those radio bugs after me again." Then the bar association got busy again. Johnson was called again before the bar association committee in Judge Doran's chambers. "We merely wish to broadcast the true proceedings of the court, gentlemen," murmured Johnson. "We feel that radio has a place in the dissemination of news just as the newspapers. We welcome a contempt of court citation to test this issue before the United States Supreme court." The gentlemen of the bar association went slowly back to their offices. Another problem burst upon us the next morning. Judge Doran's reporter, Sullivan, said he had work to do and told us we'd have to vacate his office. This meant no room for our remote control panel and several other things as well. District Attorney Buron Fitts was our manna in the wilderness. "Mr. Fitts," I asked, "Can you find us a room in your offices somewhere — anywhere, so we can move our equipment into it?" "Well," he answered, I'll see." After an hour's careful survey of his quarters, Fitts announced that we might take a corner of the women's rest rooms — Room 608 — if we wanted it. Well it was better than nothing, and the remote was moved out of the clerk's office into the rest room. The rest room was not the most convenient headquarters and we moved again, not because we had too, but because it was our wish, to the Paris Inn, nearby. And as this is written we're still there — still dramatizing anything and everything pertaining to the trial. And if the courtroom wasn't so closely guarded that we can't walk in with a bulge in our pockets, we'd still hide a microphone in the court room. It is with great regret as we go to press that the announcement of the tragic death of Jane Green, KFRC artist, came too late to prevent the article "Green and Blue" on page nineteen, from being printed. A sudden paralytic stroke, coming as a climax to a month's illness, was responsible. At the height of her radio popularity, with a host of new friends at KFRC and among the listening public, she will be missed immeasurably, and it will be difficult for the San Francisco station to fill her place. Her death marks the passing of a great radio personality, a charming artist, and a lovely girl. MUSIC as you drive— CLARK Auto Midget Radio Designed to give the utmost in radio reception. 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