Radio-TV mirror (July-Dec 1954)

66 (Continued from page 29) Inside the house, during Christmases at Grandmother's, there was just as much pleasure. I'm sure the Christmas dinner cooking started a week before — for we really had a variety. Turkey with dressing? Of course. But there were also the added pleasures, the special dishes which came with Polish and Italian Christmases. If my memory serves me correctly, Lee got one of his first "tastes" of the piano at Grandmother's. Grandmother didn't have a piano bench — just one of those old-time rollup piano seats. Angie, who was older than Lee, could pick out "Silent Night." She held Lee on her lap and we all sang. Later, when Lee could play, he got the piano. By then I played the fiddle, Dad had his French horn and, with the soprano voices of the ladies, we made quite a sextet. Being a religious family, we always topped off this most perfect of evenings with a Christmas Midnight Mass. So those are our early memories of Christmases at Grandmother's. We'll never forget them. We remember our early Christmases in Milwaukee, too. During our childhood, our parents always had a hard time making a living, but Mother and Dad made sure we always had a "Christmassy'" experience. With not too much money to spend they picked out our gifts together. Then Mother would spend hours wrapping them. Paper was inexpensive, and she made every Christmas jacket, shirt, dress, and toy look like a twenty-dollar gift. One Christmas at home Lee and I will never forget: the year we got our music lessons as gifts. Mother and Dad had to scrape and save the money for those lessons; but they gave it unselfishly. Two dollars for Lee's piano lesson, for example, at a time, I remember, when two dollars would feed a family for days. And I remember how he carried it. Straight from the cookie jar, it was seldom two single dollar bills; mostly it was nickels, dimes, and quarters — and pennies. I remember Lee was always a brilliant piano student. It wasn't long after Mother and Father's Christmas gift that he won a scholarship to the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music. Florence Beteray Kelly, his teacher there, was inspired by his ability and worked patiently with him. Lee is grateful to Florence. I'm sure they both remember the day, shortly after Christmas, when Lee was sixteen and won the audition to play as soloist with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. It was a Christmas to remember. The director, and one of the founders of the Symphony, the late Dr. Frederick Stock, was thrilled with Lee's ability and gave him every assistance possible. As a result of that solo concert Lee traveled to New York, where he made his first professional appearances— first at the Persian Room of the Hotel Plaza, later at the Raleigh Room of the Hotel Warwick. Success didn't come overnight to Lee; he had to work for it. But on Christmas day — in any year during the time Lee was climbing the ladder of success — you would never know he was struggling. He copied mother's ways; he gave gifts by the bushel and, during his less affluent period, though the gifts were comparatively inexpensive, they were wrapped like the crown jewels. Today, Lee still spends half an hour wrapping every package. He also tries to make the idea of the wrapping match the gift inside. Lee was on the road by himself for some time. It wasn't until 1947 that I joined him, adding orchestrations and a musical background to his piano. We'll both remember Christmas of that year always. We were driving to our next job when we were Christmas Memories caught in a blizzard. We made it to a small town — where we were promptly snowbound. All the cafes were closed tight; we didn't even get Christmas dinner. Lee and I will never forget the Christmas after our first five television show. That was 1952. It was sort of a personal triumph for Lee — because there had been a lot of opposition to his idea that the show would be liked by a television audience. The people who were most responsible for bringing us to television were our managers, Gabbe, Lutz, and Heller, and Mr. Don Fedderson, then station manager of KLAC-TV, who sold the show to Mr. Harry Peterson, Vice President of Los Angeles' Citizen's National Bank. Mr. Fedderson had been a fan of Lee's when he played in the supper clubs. He had great faith in his ability as a pianist and entertainer— faith in Lee, even though other network executives had already told Lee that his show would never be a hit! Mr. Fedderson opened a spot for us on KLAC (now KCOP) and, with bated breath, we cancelled a number of bookings in order to go on KLAC-TV. We hoped to reach a greater audience there than we ever could via night clubs. We waited for audience reaction after our first show with hope and faith in our hearts. We didn't wait long. Immediately after the last number the switchboard — speaking of Christmas — lit up like a Christmas tree! We were a success; but it wasn't immediately apparent. For three weeks we didn't get a sponsor. That's when Mr. Fedderson's faith in us was made clear; he was willing to carry us at station expense until we did get a sponsor. Enter Mr. Harry Peterson, Vice President of Lbs Angeles' Citizen's National Bank. Mr. Peterson had seen the show; he was thrilled. But there were some who didn't think the bank should buy it. Mr. Peterson had faith in us, too. He asked the bank's eleven hundred employees to watch the show the next week — and tell him what they thought. We were voted in by 96% of the viewers. Here and now I would like to express our thanks again to the eleven hundred Santa Claus employees of Citizen's National for making our Christmas 1952 one we will never forget. We had been on the air for some time before that Christmas rolled around. Lee and I will remember it for many reasons: one, after years on the road it was the first Christmas we'd spent at home; two, I especially remember it because of the way Lee showed his generosity and appreciation to those around him. Remember the many beautifully wrapped but inexpensive gifts of our childhood I described? Well, Lee went overboard in 1952; he designed and had specially made for me a diamond violin ring. It is gold, set in onyx. For our wonderful arranger, Gordon Robinson, Lee bought a new piano. Why? Because Gordon had an old beat-up one that barely made music. Lee replaced it with a blond Baldwin Acrisonic. I remember the expression on Gordon's face when it arrived at his apartment. There must have been fourteen yards of red ribbon around it. Of course Gordon hadn't expected it and, when he saw that piano, he all but fell over in a faint. Lee gave a duplicate Baldwin to our director, Duke Goldstone. Why to the director? Because Lee knew that Duke's children were musically inclined; he wanted to encourage them as he had been encouraged. Finally, Lee gave Mother a mink stole. Mother never owned a fur like that in her life. Was she thrilled? Well, you'd never know it from all the tears she shed into the box. (Editor's note: It's only fair to say that the gifts which came from the Liberaces came from Lee and George together— though in talking with modest George you would never know it.) Lee and I will also remember Christmas 1953 for many reasons: one, because it was the second Christmas in many years we had spent at home; two, because of Lee's new home — just barely completed. The paint was still wet but Lee was determined to have the Christmas party at the house. Thanks to the contractors and the Department of Water and Power, we had a painted house with electricity and running water . . . but that's about all. Except for the Christmas trees: Lee had three — one from the studio; one he'd bought; and one which came from I don't know where! Everyone was at the party: Mother; sister Angie; her eighteen-year-old daughter, Diane, and eight-year-old son, Freddie; our brother Rudy, just back from Korea (which made it an especially memorable Christmas) ; his wife Isobel; their twoyear-old son, Rudy, Jr.; my wife Jane; Mr. Fedderson; Mr. Peterson; the Messrs. Gabbe, Lutz, and Heller; our attorney, Mr. Jacobs; and the band and their families. But all wasn't happy that Christmas. A few weeks before, Lee's contractor, Bill Steiksal, came down with polio. It broke Lee's heart when, shortly before Christmas, he visited Bill at Rancho Los Amigos to find him in an iron lung; he couldn't even swallow. But after Christmas we were all encouraged to hear that Bill would live — in fact, a few months later was sitting up in a wheelchair. This brings us near the end of "Christmases We'll Never Forget." But before we sign off there's something I'd like to talk about: that's polio. Bill Steiksal's illness brought polio near enough to all of us for a very close look. We didn't like what we saw. Lee immediately wanted to fight it, so he sent $5,000 to Rancho Los Amigos for research. They bought a muchneeded electroencephalograph with the money. Lee's continued his fight with another $5,000 gift in 1954; and on September 4th, he donated his entire share of his Hollywood Bowl concert to the March of Dimes. (Editor's note: Again it is only fair to say that Lee and George together contributed the first $5,000 for the electroencephalograph, the second $5,000 for research. And George, as musical director of the Hollywood Bowl concert, contributed his share to the March of Dimes, too — a portion of which went to Los Angeles' Rancho Los Amigos.) So what's the point? Just this: As Lee and I both learned when we were very young — it doesn't take much to make a child happy. When Lee and I recently visited the children's wing at the Rancho, Lee's presence in their midst was enough to make them smile. And when you see those children, then you know how much you have to be thankful for. Yes, it takes so little to make a child happy— a dime or dollar may not buy them a sleigh ride in the snows of Menasha, Wisconsin, but it will buy them five more minutes of research — research in a fight that is almost won. And, when it is won, little boys and girls will be free from the fear and the jail of their paralysis; they'll be able to sit behind the reins of Grandfather's sleigh, as Lee and I did. If you want to make Christmas, 1954, the Christmas children the world over will never forget, send your dimes and dollars to: The March of Dimes, New York. It's the best way I know to say, "Merry Christmas!"