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RADIO MIRROR
pay for her voice lessons it would read like a help wanted column. After cashiering, she went into dressmaking, then worked as a sales girl in a department store and even as an usherette. But she did get those lessons, and from Savage, Romani, and Stanley!
The impresarios really liked Carmela. They cut the hourly rates on her lessons way down, and often after the appointed hour had elapsed they let the minutes slip away into the next hour without charging anything for their additional time. Annie was always present at the lessons to give whatever help she could, and to thank these important men with a gentle touch of blarney for their kindness to her youthful protegee.
Then came the momentous day that Carmela was to go on the road in a traveling opera company. Papa and Mama Ponselle and Annie waved half tearful good-byes as the train pulled from the station and headed westward.
THOSE were tough years that lay stretched ahead of Carmela — years of dirty dressing rooms, inadequate pay, and constant, wearing travel. If anyone needed Annie Ryan's faith and fighting pep talks, Carmela needed them then. Not being quite able to shout across a continent, Annie's only recourse was the written word. Her letters must have meant a great deal to Carmela — she still has every one of them!
Annie's letters were not great works of art; they were just letters of simple faith, inspiring clean courage, and giving a lonely girl o'n the road the heart to keep plugging. Letters about God, and about how work and practice do not go unrewarded. They were filled with hope, and quiet advice; homey, simple and straight
forward. Without them, she has often said, Carmela would have been unable to go on.
There is much of Annie Ryan's spirit, and these letters, still in Carmela. If Annie had failed to make her a great Metropolitan star, she would at least have had the consolation of knowing that she had given Carmela a strength of purpose, a higher plane of thinking.
Today, in a world torn with doubt and cynicism, Carmela still clings steadfastly to the religious beliefs that Annie has taught her. Annie always maintained that without God there is no genius. Upon this, Carmela built her career.
Up until now, little has been said about Rosa. Annie had given Rosa what little time she could spare from the hours she spent with Carmela. Carmela was the person that the Ponsellios and Annie Ryan expected to come through first.
She didn't. Like the proverbial dark horse in a race, Rosa shot out of the background to fame. Nothing could stop her, and certainly nobody wanted to. Annie jumped behind Rosa, dug in with both ■feet, and pushed. If God had meant that Rosa should be the first to succeed, Annie was right there to fight until the last obstacle had been overcome!
The night that Annie had so often dreamed about for Carmela arrived instead for Rosa. In 1918, the little East Side Irish-trained bambina stepped out on to the stage of the Metropolitan in the role of Carmen, and knocked the white shirt fronts and bejeweled damsels for a loopalo.
Annie was there. Very much there. Quieting Rosa, pouring instructions into her ear, proud as a peacock — but I daresay her heart was with the girl on the road, half way up the ladder, climbing
slowly but surely toward the same goal.
CARMELA'S chance was bound to come but it wasn't until eight years later, in 1926, that the goal Annie had fought for was reached. On a night in that year, Carmela made her debut in Aida, and Annie Ryan's work was done. Her heart was as full as a splendid Irish heart can be. It may sound sentimental, but as Carmela sang, Annie and Rosa stood in the wings back stage and the tears kept coming and going as often as the property men changed scenery.
That was ten years ago. Since then, Carmela Ponselle has been very much in evidence. The radio has brought her voice to thousands. There have been concert tours, benefits, and recordings. Nobody hears much about Annie Ryan any more. As a matter of fact, nobody did in the old days — except those who tried to put one over on Carmela. Some of the old hands around the Metropolitan have probably forgotten all about her — Carmela hasn't. She repays her in the only way she possibly, can — first, with her undying gratitude and friendship; second, by giving to the world, through her voice, all that God and Annie Ryan have given her.
Carmela has just signed for another six weeks as guest artist on the Broadway Varieties air program. At the present writing, Rosa is on the West Coast completing a concert tour. Annie Ryan, white-haired and vital, still teaches the scales to those unwilling youngsters who have talent, but who also own disposi-' tions. Annie will teach them! Who knows — perhaps she has three or four Carmela Ponselles up her sleeve?
"Sure, and I'll be havin' ye know, the Italians are mighty fine people — but with the Irish behind them they're perfect."
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