Radio stars (Oct 1933-Sept 1934)

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ILLINOIS CAMPANA CORPORATION, LTD., TORONTO (BcumfzxvrvaA ITALIAN BALM THE ORIGINAL SKIN SOFTENER Noiv also in tubes, 25^ Let's jump back about seven years for a little incident that Rogers may have forgotten, but which will always be remembered by this reporter. It happened in Tulsa, Oklahoma. The occasion was Rogers' first appearance in his home state after winning international fame as a comedian. It was a big day in Tulsa ! Convention Hall, Tulsa's biggest theatre, held more than three thousand Oklahomans who had come from all parts of the state. Rogers himself estimated that at least one thousand of them were ''kin folks." And where was the star of Mr. Ziegfeld's "Follies" at the time scheduled for his appearance before the crowd? He was backstage, pacing up and down, chewing gum frantically and trying to get up enough nerve to go out on the stage. Time after time, he signalled from the wings to the De Rezke Singers, a male vocal ensemble traveling with him, to sing "just one more." To the folks backstage with him — I was one — he said : "Gosh. Everybody I ever knew is out front. They think I am big stuff just 'cause these New York folks like me. Truth is I done all these tricks for nothing when I was up on the ranch near Claremore. They sure are going to be disappointed in me." He really had stage fright. Finally he went out on the stage and the three thousand roared a welcome. About one-thirty that morning, Rogers had to take off his coat and start to remove his shirt before the enthusiastic Oklahomans would leave the hall. THAT'S a pretty good example of how Will Rogers felt just before he started his last series of broadcasts. The man doesn't quite understand why folks think he is funny. Before his first broadcast in the new series, staged in one of NBC's most elaborate studios, Rogers sat with his face in his hands. He was visibly nervous. Only when the Revellers started to sing, did he look up. Then, before he realized it, it was time for him to begin his "sermon." Invited guests in the studio gasped. He didn't have a script. He just stood in front of the microphone, grinned at Irvin Cobb and Fred Stone, waved a hand at Walter Winchell in the rear of the studio and started talking. He might have been talking directly to Cobb. Or he would turn and address his remarks to Stone. Every once in a while he would hang his head like a bashful school boy reciting a piece and then, when he straightened up, he would have to shove that obstreperous cowlick out of his eyes. He seemed to ignore the microphone, though he kept within its range. He might have been talking to a lot of folks at some informal party and, after he had been speaking for a few minutes, he was as much at ease as he ever is. Part of his charm is his awkwardness of expression. It doesn't do Rogers any good to plan his broadcasts or work from a prepared manuscript. Invariably he gets a new idea three minutes before time to go on the air, so he just talks about that. And don't think all those funny remarks of his are carefully thought out. They come naturally and in conversations with friends he is just as witty as he is before a packed theatre. He can be quite serious, too, and he doesn't tackle a subject like war debts or the tariff until he has considered all available information on the issues. He'll hunt up an expert and let the expert do the talking while he listens with eyes closed and with his jaws moving rhythmically on a piece of gum. The expert is usually amazed at Rogers' .next speech. The man grasps fundamentals quickly. DOGERS who, in impolite language, doesn't hesitate to "kid the pants off" the United States Senate, is courteous and thoughtful in private life. I'll never forget an incident of that Tulsa visit. Will, escorted by the mayor of Tulsa and most of the important citizens of Eastern Oklahoma, was leading an impromptu parade down Tulsa's main street. A little old lady stepped to the curb to let the important folks go past. Suddenly her eyes brightened. "Willie," she exclaimed. Willie stopped and looked at her. Off came his hat. "Aunt Elsie," he said. "My goodness. I haven't seen you in twenty years. How's the folks up in Oolagah. Uncle Tom's rheumatism any better?" And right then and there traffic halted. Aunt Elsie wasn't a real aunt. Maybe a twenty-second cousin. But Rogers hadn't forgotten her. Incidentally to the "kin folks" back in Oklahoma — and Rogers has plenty of them — he is Willie or Cousin Willie or Uncle Willie. Just a few old friends call him Bill. He is proud of his Indian blood as is every one else in Oklahoma. A cousin, Senator William Gulager of the Oklahoma legislature, is still known by his Indian name of "Clu Clu," meaning Martin bird. Though Rogers apparently is careless about his speech, don't let that fool you. His "cherce of woids" in ordinary conversation is excellent and not even an English instructor could find fault with his speech when he steps out of character. He has had a remarkable education for he has been around the world and has traveled extensively in every country. He has talked with every important man in America and Europe. Not so many years ago, he refused a doctor's degree from the University of Oklahoma. Rogers enjoys his food and a yellowed newspaper clipping reveals that "I'm hungry" was an expression used seven years ago as well as today. The folks who work with him think he is a swell guy. Even on the movie lots, where people seem to be suspicious of all associates, everyone likes Rogers. Though he is an ex-cowpuncher and is usually portrayed as a rough-andready character, he is careful about his clothes. They are so well tailored that one is never conscious of them. Perhaps he likes yellowish shoes, but some people like purple neckties.