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THERE is little hero-worship among the people who move through the region of brick and stone and lights that is New York City from Forty-second to Fiftieth Streets, between Sixth and Eighth Avenues.
That little parcel of ground is the Roaring Forties, and its people live by, of, and for the stage. And the years have left them hard-bitten, tough, and cynical, without the time or inclination to give anyone more than his just due of praise — or maybe a little less than that.
But there's one man they worship, these smooth-faced old veterans of the footlights. They worship him in little groups under the tawdry lights of Broadway, or in the paler glow of a half-hundred hotel rooms — wherever one or two of them gather to ask, "What's new?"
He is a lean caustic fellow, and his name is Fred Allen. You and I may measure his brilliance by the things he says on Town Hall Tonight each Wednesday over the
ROARING FORTIES
By BILL STUART
THE SIDE SPLITTING STORY OF THE TIMES WHEN FRED ALLEN WAS ONLY SLIGHTLY COLOSSAL
NBC Red network, but the old troupers of vaudeville remember him for the remark he made to the manager of the old Palace in Tuscaloosa or what he did to the famous moocher while playing the New England circuit ten years ago. To them, he is one of their own kind who has become legendary — a man whose code is more fair than fairness itself, whose loyalty is unquestioned and whose own past exploits add glamour to their profession and therefore — though indirectly — to them.
Several months ago, when Fred announced that he was opening the amateur portion of his hour-long program to professionals who thought there might be some place for them in radio, he received letters from old-timers who had played every circuit in the country with him. The general tenor of them ran like this:
"Freddie, we've always known that if there was one person in the world who would remember the people who have proven their ability over and over, it would be you. The amateurs have had their fling and we've sat back, letting them have it. Now it is our turn — and, mister, we're going to deliver for you."
The Roaring Forties, the most publicized section of any city in America, are with the writer of that letter to a man. Why? Well, to find out, we talked to some of the old timers who have already appeared during the latter half of the program. We learned that Fred Allen has done (Continued an page 84)
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