Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

and quiet evenings. She sighed. The m hurtled on through the sunlit day. In Cincinnati, school and beaux were not enough. She had to act. It was in her and there was nothing else she could do. Maybe, she decided, she could get a reputation in Cincinnati and go back to Chicago a well-known radio actress. She worked on station WLW, doing everything and anything they suggested. THEN, one day, the letter arrived. It was from Russ. "Heard you on the air the other night," it said. "You weren't very good, but there's a glimmer of talent there. With work, you might some day become a fine actress. Why not come back to Chicago?" That was all. It made her furious. It was Thanksgiving vacation and she had half a mind to go back to Chicago and give him a piece of her mind! She paced back and forth, holding the letter in her hand. And, somehow, not quite knowing how she had made up her mind so quickly, or how she had persuaded her parents so convincingly, she was on the train headed for Chicago. Russ Young looked up, surprised, when she walked into the apartment where he was working. "Hey," he said. "Hey, yourself," she said. "What's the big idea of writing that awful note?" Russ grinned. "It got results." "Oh, no, it didn't," she said angrily. "I just came back to tell you what I think of you." Russ grinned more broadly. "You think you're a good actress, already?" Laurette's deep, brown eyes smouldered. "I don't think I'm as bad as you implied in that note. You're just trying to be cynical." "You belong here," Russ said, growing serious. "You'll never get anywhere in Cincinnati. Stick around. I'll help you and I'll get people to help you." Laurette smiled. These were brave words from a young man who didn't have a job himself, who didn't even know what he wanted to be, who just sort of dabbled in acting and directing "You Belong Here" Continued jrom page 33 and was now toying with the idea of becoming a writer. They argued. They argued all through that Thanksgiving vacation. When Russ went down to the station with her, Laurette was more confused than she had been when she left Chicago the first time. "Well," Russ asked, giving her luggage to the porter, "how many times will you have to go home before you realize you belong here?" "I don't know," she said on the verge of tears. "Honestly, Russ, I'm scared to try it. I'm an only child — I've always lived a sort of sheltered life. I'd be frightened silly being in Chicago all alone, without a definite job." Russ smiled. "You wouldn't be alone. All you'd have to do is pick up the phone and I'd be there. And — about being an only child," he grinned, "I'm the original only child." Laurette went back to Cincinnati, but this time she lasted only two months. On a bleak, cold, January day she was stepping off the train in Chicago's Union Station again. She had $200 in her purse and she was scared, just as she'd thought she would be. Russ's letters and his phone number were clutched firmly in her hand. Laurette went to live in a little rooming house in Rogers Park, near Russ Young's apartment. All about her were scores of young actors and actresses— almost a community — all intent on the same thing, storming the heights of Chicago's big time radio programs. Actresses stayed a few weeks, some a few months. But most of them eventually went back to Iowa, to Ohio, to Indiana, convinced that Chicago radio was impossible to crack. Laurette hung on. She hung on because Russ was there, because he had faith in her, because he wouldn't let her quit, because he could laugh at anything and because she had more fun drinking a coke with him in a Chicago drug store than she had ever had with anyone, anywhere, in her life. They became inseparable. There was no formal build-up to the fact that they were in love. They both just sort of took being together as an indication that they would always be together. ■ ■ Mr. and Mrs. Frank Chapman at home — she's Gladys Swarthout of the CBS Family Hour show; Frank takes Deems Taylor's place as master of ceremonies on the program from time to time during the summer. 58 They were always broke. Sometimes, Laurette's father woul i send her a few dollars and they'd ce.ebrate by indulging in a soda at a Rogers Park drug store. Sometimes, one of them would get a small radio job on a minor station and make five or ten dollars. Whatever they earned, they shared. Once, Russ became very ill from his irregular meals and overworking on a script he was trying to write. Laurette nursed him through that on the few dollars she made from reading commercials. 'TVHE kids had courage. They were *■ not going to be beaten. Russ got a chance as a part-time announcer on WAAF, a small station in the Palmer House. They couldn't afford to pay him, so they gave him a pass for the elevated trains, which, at least, took care of his transportation to and from the studio. Both of them used the one "El" pass. On days when Russ wasn't working, Laurette used it to ride into Chicago to hunt for jobs. Their first break came because they thought in terms of "we" and not "I". Russ, by this time, was gaining some notice as an announcer on WAAF. He was called in by a producer named Blair Walliser at CBS. He was to audition for an announcing job on Rich Man's Daughter. On the morning of his audition, he picked up Laurette. "You're coming with me," he said. "If they don't like me, they may like you." "I won't go!" Laurette said. "It might ruin your own chances, if you try to get me an audition." Russ plunked a hat on Laurette's head. "Come on, honey," he said, "and don't give me any arguments." Russ auditioned. When he was through, he took a deep breath and spoke into the microphone again. "There's a girl outside, Mr. Walliser," he said. "I'd like you to hear her." Walliser frowned and hesitated. "Okay," he said, finally. "Let's hear her." Laurette came in. Her face was white and she trembled as she read for Walliser. After she was finished, she was sure that she had not only failed miserably, but had ruined Russ's opportunity, as well. Walliser came out of the control room. The producer smiled at Russ. "Sorry," he said, "I can't use you, fellow." He looked at Laurette. "But this girl has something. I'm going to give her a small part." They almost cried, Laurette because she was so upset about Russ not getting the job, Russ because he was so happy for Laurette. The job didn't last long, but it helped them out of a very bad spot. They had got down to their last seventy-five cents! Later, Russ was called in to substitute on the program for the regular announcer. It was the first time they had ever worked together on the air. Russ was so nervous, so anxious that Laurette shouldn't be made nervous, that he blew the commercial higher than a kite. He spelled the name of the product three times, differently each time. To this day, he shudders, thinking of it. But Russ was making great strides at WAAF. A short while after Laurette's part on Rich Man's Daughter was over, when they were almost RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR