Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1950)

Jean gets scolded... You can't cut paper dolls without making snips on the rug. But if mother has to get out the vacuum again, she's apt to get pretty snippy herself. And innocent Jean has her fun spoiled. Janie doesn't... Her mother admires the dolls, and then whisks out her handy Bissell Sweeper for a quick clean-up. No need to plug in the vacuum except for heavy over-all cleaning. "Saves a lot of time to have both!" this smiling mother says. Only BISSELL has "BISCO-MATIC"* brush action You don't bear down at all! This miracle-action brush adjusts itself to any rug, thick or thin, with no handle pressure. Sweeps clean even under low furniture and hard-to-get places ! New Bissell Sweepers with "Bisco-matic" Brush Action as low as $6.95. Illustrated: the "Vanity" at $8.95. Prices a little more in the West. Bissell Carpet Sweeper Company R M 86 Grand Rapids 2, Michigan •Ree. XJ. 8. Pat. Off. Bissell 'b full spring controlled brush. pointment. We wanted a child. Because we had been the first in our crowd to marry, we had godchildren galore, but at the end of five years we still had none of our own. We were thinking of adopting a baby when, one day, Bo walked into my office with an absolutely ecstatic expression on her face. "I've just come from the doctor," she announced, "and guess what!" I suppose my eyes blazed with the same hope hers held, but all I could say was, "You don't mean it." Solemnly Bo nodded. "It's true, and I've got it all decided. He's going to have red hair. I've always wanted a red-headed boy." I knew the source of that desire. Bo's father had wanted a boy when she was born. He had wanted one so badly that when a little girl arrived he had taught her to ride a bike, play ball, whittle and whistle. Her nickname had its source in his greeting, "Hi, Bo." I hadn't even known her real name was Bernice until she signed the marriage license application. I felt like running out to the street and shouting, "Hey, folks, I'm going to be a father." Thank heaven, Bo's insistence on a son kept me out of such fine, fancy foolishness. I didn't want her to be disappointed, so I argued, "What's going to happen if it's a girl?" "It will be a boy, a red-headed boy," said Bo with that same rapt expression. And she was right, although I swear no baby on earth ever took longer to arrive. Maybe that's just the way it seemed to us and our friends, for we told everyone, right away, and our whole gang practically counted minutes, from then on. Tom Jr., when he made his debut December 21, 1938, had a build-up like a world championship fight. I suppose it was my desire to give Bo and the baby everything in creation which forced me to take an extremely critical view of my insurance agency. I had brooded over the prospects for a long while, and although I had increased its volume, I had to recognize the fact that it was hard to talk investments with people who know you've been in show business and who also have seen your own diapers flapping on the clothes line. Finally in July, when young Tom was going on seven months old, I walked in one night and said, "Mama, I think I'm going to make a change." Tom was having colic and yelling his head off. Bo picked him up so he wouldn't cry quite so loud, then turned to me and said, "What are you considering?" I said, "I want to go back into show business." It was then that I really found out this girl Bo has the stuff in her that my mother had. There she was, secure in a house we had both worked to make comfortable. She had a sick baby on her hands. Yet all she answered was, "Well, why don't you? It's what you've always wanted. We'll manage. We'll be broke for a while, but eventually, you'll do well at it." She's kept that attitude, too, through all the rough going which lay between my first little announcing job at WDZ, Tuscola, Illinois, and my present programs. She knew it was a gamble, and she's gambled right along with me, backing me up a number of times when I was scared to take a chance. There was, for instance, the time when I was first offered a featured network program of my own. I had bounced around Chicago radio quite a while, sometimes up and sometimes down. I had quit a network outlet seventeen times and been fired eighteen. On a local station I had built up a profitable mail order program and stuck with it three years. When Bo said, "That's enough," I returned to the nets, working in such programs as Captain Midnight, Woman in White, Hymns of All Churches and News of the World. I also had a record show on WMAQ and another daytime spot on WGN. Taken all together, I was doing nicely, and this was one time when I was in no mood to drop everything and gamble. My fear of risks was largely due to the state of Bo's health. An automobile accident had aggravated a back injury and although no one, from that day to this, has ever dared call Bo an invalid, the actual fact was that right then she could not walk. There had been brutal, painful years of operations, hospitals and private nurses. She hated being sick and she still won't talk about that period. She was flat in bed the day I came home and said, "Johnny Olsen's going back to New York. They've offered me Ladies Be Seated." Bo laughed. "What are you fussing about? Take it." I shook my head. "I'm scared. Johnny has built that show up, and anyone who tries to follow him is bound to fall flat on his face. I don't want it now. I want it after the next guy has busted." Bo knew radio as well as I did, yet she said, "Stop being silly. Take it. Don't try to ape Johnny. Just be yourself." I looked hard at her then. Looked hard at the thin white face against the equally white pillow and I gave WATCH FOR WE vicious criminal described on the "True Detective Mysteries" radio program Sunday afternoon. $1000 REWARD is offered for information leading to his arrest. For complete details, and tor an exciting half gflMV hour of action and suspense, tune in "TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES" Every Sunday afternoon on 502 Mutual radio stations