Radio Mirror (Nov 1936-Apr 1937)

RADIO M IRROR ONCE THE IDOL OF A MILLION HEARTS, HOLLY WOOD'S HANDSOMEST LEADING MAN HAD LOST ALL HIS HOPE AND COURAGE UNTIL HE FOUND RADIO THE sun shines again on an exHollywood hero. Radio has shown James Hall the way back. From a despair he thought he could never escape, it has led him into the bright light of new hopes and another chance for success as great as he once knew. His new job is not a big one for the James Hall who scored such a hit with Jean Harlow in "Hell's Angels," but for the James Hall who a year ago was thankful to be broadcasting a fifteen-minute program over a local Chicago station, it means everything. And Hollywood, which such a short time ago had turned its back on the man it once idolized, is waiting with contracts to see if he makes good. Every Thursday morning, over fifteen stations of the Mutual Broadcasting network, Jimmy is the master of ceremonies on the lavish forty-five minute program, Morning Matinee, which presents each week another of the country's biggest orchestras. It is an important job and he is doing it well enough for the program directors to sign him for an indefinite period of time. But more important than how long this job lasts is the knowledge deep within him that his faith in life and his future has been restored. He has regained all the courage and Irish willingness to battle it out that he lost when he saw friends, fortune, and home fade away like desert mirages back in the gloomy days of 1932. For four years he was fighting the inevitable fate he instinctively knew was in store for him — in store for any handsome young leading man when age begins to rob him of his juvenile appeal. It was a blind fight, for he could find no other avenue of escape. When he tried personal 54 Remember Jimmy when he was featured as the lieutenant with Jean Harlow in "Hell's Angels?" He is broadcasting now every Thursday on Morning Matinee, over Mutual. By N D appearances in small theaters throughout the country, he was successful only so long as film fans remembered the many pictures he had made. But memories are short. Soon he was out of work again. It was while he was stranded in a Southwest state, that a local radio station manager approached him with an offer. First in Oklahoma City, then in Tulsa, and later, in Chicago, he broadcast movie fan club programs. Sustaining programs, they never paid enough for him to live on and he had to draw on his meager savings. More than once he was ready to call it quits. Only his wife's unerring devotion and love pulled him through the many moments of black discouragement. Until the bright, crisp morning in September, this year, when Jimmy found a telegram under his door offering him the chance to audition for Morning Matinee. He tried out that day and was accepted — for one broadcast. Somehow he made good, strengthened in the knowledge that his wife was listening in, praying for him. Now he swings into the studio of WOR Thursday mornings with his shoulders squared and a smile on his lips, all the burning, aching memories of the past blotted out in his plans for the future. Each morning, before he starts out, his wife gives him his day's allowance. The rest is being put safely away in the bank. There's another reason, now, for Jimmy's regeneration. Just before this was written, he had another offer, an offer that brought tears to his eyes. Warner Brothers have asked him to work in their feature shorts out in their Long Island, New York, studios. Radio has saved another life. LOUIS E R W O O D