We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
This hour-long breakfast time show has been starting the coast
to-coast day right for many years
Sam Cowling's Almanac offers wisdom for those not laughinjg too hard to hear it.
Music winds in and out and around the rest of the program, some of it provided by the rhythm quartet called the Vagabonds.
Cruising Crooner Owens finds a dream girl of any age, sings tenderly to her alone.
CPONTANEOUS as the first spring flower, always funny and frequently rising to great heights of wit, ABC's thirteen-year-old Breakfast Club comes on morning, after morning in the same format, more or less. But because it is largely unrehearsed (those portions of it involving the studio audience are completely unrehearsed) there is always room for some bit of madness, some wild surprising gaiety which m.c. Don McNeill culls from the always-enthusiastic studio audience or makes up as he goes along, out of whatever happens to catch his fancy.
Don McNeill started his radio career as an announcer, but he's been an m.c. for, by his own figures, around 4,400 microphone hours. He's never late, seldom absent, and has taken only brief vacations, and still his adlibbing has a freshness and liveliness that less experienced m.c.'s envy.
Aunt Fanny was born by accident, one day in a Waterloo, Iowa radio station, when singer Fran Allison was called on to say a few words between songs. She is now a composite of so many loway ladies remembered by Fran from her growing-up days out there that Fran's mother is in a perpetual dither for fear one of her friends is going to recognize herself in one of Aunt Fanny's outrageous caricatures. But so far it hasn't happened.
Sam Cowling is from Indiana. Before he thought up his Fiction and Fact Almanac he sang tenor with a trio, but now most of his creative effort goes into manufacturing lopsided wisdom for the Almanac.