Radio mirror (July-Dec 1946)

8:15 6:15 6:15 9:00 11:30 1 11:00 1:30 ) 4:30 8:05 9:30 10:00 9:30 10:00 6:30 10:00 10:30 10:00 8:15 8:15 8:30 8:30 8:45 9:00 9:15 9:30 9:30 10:00 10:00 10:00 10:30 10:30 10:30 10:30 11:00 11:00 11:15 11:30 11:30 11:30 11:30 11:45 12:00 12:00 12:15 12:30 12:30 12:30 12:30 1:00 1:00 1:00 1:00 1:30 1:30 1:30 2:00 2:00 2:15 2:15 2:30 2:30 2:30 11:00 11:30 2:00 2:30 3:30 3:15 4:15 2:45 3:45 4:00 3:00 9:30 4:30 9:00 6:00 9:00 6:30 5:30 6:45 7:00 7:30 Scitundacf Eastern Daylight TEme CBS: Phil Cook NBC: Richard Leibert, Organist CBS: Missus Goes A-Shopping ABC: Musical Novelty Group CBS: Margaret Arlen ABC: Wake Up and Smile CBS: The Garden Gate CBS: Carolina Calling NBC: Fashions in Melody NBC: A Miss and a Male ABC: Buddy Weed. Trio CBS: Give and Take MBS: Albert Warner MBS: Rainbow House CBS: Mary Lee Taylor NBC: Adventures of Archie Andrews ABC: Junior Junction ABC: Harry Kogen's Orchestra NBC: Teentimers Club CBS: Let's Pretend ABC: Bible Message MBS: Land of the Lost ABC: Johnny Thompson CBS: Blllie Burke Show NBC: Home Is What You Make It ABC: Note From a Diary CBS: MBS: Theater of Today It's Up to Youth NBC; Consumer Time CBS: Stars Over Hollywood ABC: American Farmer NBC: Smiling Ed McConnelf MBS: Luncheon With Lopez NBC: National Farm & Home Hour CBS: Grand Central Station ABC: To Live in Peace MBS: Opry House Matinee ABC: Hank D'Amico's Orchestra CBS: County Fair NBC: The Veteran's Aid ABC: Chicago Serenade NBC: Your Ho-'; «s Buffalo CBS: Adventi' — '^ in Science MBS: Johnny Pi.:Ti3apple's Orchestra CBS: Hollywood Star Time CBS: The Baxters MBS' Palmer House Concert Orchestra ABC: Hill Toppers NBC: Stories by Olmstead ABC: Melodies to Remember MBS: George Sterney's Orchestra CBS: Assignment Home ABC: Piano Playhouse ABC: Roundup Time MBS: George Barry's Orchestra CBS: Cross Section AFL Doctors at Home Duke Ellington Herb Field's Orchestra George Barry's Orchestra Easy Money NBC: ABC: MBS: NBC: MBS: Opportunity U. S. A. ABC: Saturday Concert NBC: Phone Again Finnegan MBS' Sports Parade NBC: John W. Vandercook MBS: Gray Gordon's Orchestra NBC; Tin Pan Alley of the Air ABC; Jimmy Blair CBS; American Portrait ABC: Harry Wismer, sports MBS' Los Angeles Symphonic Band CBS: American Portrait ABC: Labor, U. S. A. NBC: Religion in the News NBC: Our Foreign Policy MBS; Hawaii Calls ABC: It's Your Business ABC; Correspondents Abroad ABC; Green Hornet NBC; Jimmy Edmondson CBS; Tony Martin MBS; I Was a Convict MBS: ABC; CBS ABC: MBS' CBS: Ned Calmer MBS: Leave It to the Girls CBS; Your Hit Parade NBC: National Barn Dance ABC; Gang Busters NBC: Can You Top This? MBS; Johnathan Trimble, Esq. ABC: Berkshire Festival CBS; Saturday Night Serenade MBS; NBC: NBC; ABC; 20 Questions Dark Venture Hollywood Star Time Famous Jury Trials Juvenile Jury Theater of the Air Judy Canover Grand Old Opry Hayloft Hoedown Bride and Groom (Continued from page 21) went to his arm in a restraining gesture. He swung around on her. She dropped her hand as if she had been stung. People around them had noticed his abrupt movement, and Anne's face turned red. What's the matter with me! she thought, outraged. What an idiotic thing for me to do — grab hold of a complete stranger! But he was acting so queerly — The organ music swelled into the solemn "Oh, Promise Me." Anne, grateful for its reprieve, watched the bride and groom now leave the stage and move down the aisle, their faces suddenly grave and uplifted. Before them, the bride's mother walked alone. Behind them paced the maid of honor, her hand resting on the father's arm. A HUSH fell over the room. In everyone's heart there was the memory or the hope, the promise or the renunciation, come close to them now with the vision of a man and a woman so soon to be wedded in the sight of God and the blessing of the world. The lovely Chapman Park Chapel was only a few steps of flower-bordered paths out the door where bride and groom were now leaving; in a few minutes they would return for the joyful congratulations. But these seconds were hallowed ones and the audience felt it. The door closed behind them. And Johnny Nelson, one black lock of hair falling over his mischievous eyes, brought the room out of its spell. "Now — until our bride and groom return, let's talk to a few people here!" Microphone in hand, he wandered among the audience . . . discovering honeymooners and engaged couples. Laughter and gay spurts of talk rose around him; where he moved there was teasing; there was also the old, sweet story, shyly told, from the elderly couple celebrating their Golden Wedding; there was hand-clapping for the veteran once again united with his wife. Anne's attention was focused on all this. She had only a glance for the man at her side, sunk in brooding. Suddenly the doors were flung open, wide. "Ta-tum-te-tum, ta-tum-te-tum — !" The Wedding March pealed from the organ. Bride and groom, the newlymarried Mr. and Mrs. Mark Stoner, were back, hand-in-hand, the sunlight through the open door gilding their heads and ushering them in with its benison. As they once again went up the aisle to the stage, Anne was made forcibly conscious of the young man at her side. He had propped his chin in his hands and his shoulder pressed into hers — of which he was completely unaware, she surmised, reading the despair in his face. "The bouquet! She's going to throw her bouquet!" The word went round. "Stand up, all you single girls!" Johnny Nelson commanded. "Get ready to catch her flowers — maybe you'll be next!" Almost without thinking, Anne was on her feet, her arms outstretched. In the manner of all brides, time immemorial, the girl on the stage hesitated a second, then tossed the beautiful ribbon-decked corsage, her face a mirror of best wishes for the girl lucky enough to catch it. "There . . . catch it! . . ." Squeals — a flurry of slippered feet — a rush of pretty girls — "I've got it!" Surprised, Anne clutched the bouquet in her hands. "So you have." Johnny was pleased with the naive delight on the face of this slender, black-haired girl. "And now, tell us. Miss — " "Miss Best. Anne Best," she told him, dazed. "Anne. Tell us, since you seem destined to be the next bride in this room, are you engaged? Do you have anyone in mind?" "No, I'm not engaged. And I haven't anyone in mind, not right now. There was a boy back home, but I think our romance was mostly just habit." Anne blushed and laughed. "Aha," Johnny Nelson said, "then you'll have to tell us from what career you're playing hookey this afternoon." "I work in a dress shop, and they're re-papering the walls this afternoon, so I wasn't needed," Anne explained. "This won't do. We'll have to see that you finish off your holiday in style. How about you, sir — " turning to the stranger, the young man at her table — "I have two tickets here for Tom Breneman's Restaurant. Wouldn't you like to take Miss Best there for dinner this evening?" There was no possible way for him to refuse. Dismayed, Anne felt the grudging way he accepted, understood his embarrassment at being thus singled out — when she was sure he had sought this seat deliberately because it was half-hidden behind a pillar. But there was nothing he could do but accept the tickets and introduce himself — Peter Johns. Then the broadcast was over and she was walking out with him. "Look — " Anne told him — "Why not find someone here who would like to use the tickets." HE stared at her as if he were conscious of her for the first time. "Oh absolutely not. I'd like very much to keep the date — that is, if it's all right with you. It'll be fun." Looking at his preoccupied face, Anne doubted that. But she smiled and agreed to meet him for dinner at Tom Breneman's, and, sighing inwardly, went a roundabout way back to her little apartment, trying to cheer herself up. After all — anything was better than nothing, wasn't it? Later that evening, she was ready to answer that question with a violent "No!" She had tried her best, but Peter Johns was truly impossible. She had tried all the likely topics of conversation, then she had racked her brain for the most unlikely ones, and all had been equally fruitless. And as an escort, he was almost insultingly oblivious. What good does it do a girl to dress up in her prettiest turquoise-blue print and her most entrancing shadow of a hat, when her escort never even gives them a look? Peter Johns might just as well be sitting beside an old maid aunt, instead of — well — she did look nice! She had chosen that dress with care for the way it deepened the blue of her eyes and brought out the sheen in her black hair. That's what really made Anne mad. She had (Continued on page 56)