Why not a Lutheran Broadcasting Station?

In March of 1923, horribly offended by science lectures on the radio, Walter A. Maier wrote an editorial that was published in the Walther League Messenger “Why not a Lutheran Broadcasting Station?” [SOURCE] The Messenger was a monthly publication of the a Lutheran group, the Walther League Synodical conference based in Milwaukee, WI. Walter Maier had been it's editor since at least 1922.

"The other night we adjusted the head-piece of our radio set, found the sensitive spot on the crystal and broke into a lecture on the subject: “How Old is Man?” that made our ears tingle because of its open and unveiled contradiction to the Bible. When the lecture was over the question suggested itself: “How many of our people and other sincere Christians have just heard this insult to Biblical Christianity? “...the hope presented itself that at some point in the not distant future our Lutheran church might establish a broadcasting station that would send a one hundred percent Gospel message from coast to coast, yes, even to the ships that ply the oceans, and, with the continued improvement of radio, even to Europe."

Religious programs predate the act of licensing call letters. Indeed, the first religious program on KDKA-AM was broadcast less than two months after it was licensed. In January of  l921 KDKA did a remote broadcast from Calvary Episcopal Church with the Rev. Edwin Jan van Etten. Maier was well aware of this precedent and even referred to another in his article "...a catholic writer in 'Current Opinion' claims that his church has already won converts by radio."  In short, if radio was a tool for education, debate, recruitment and conversion, then the Lutherans needed one as well.

In August of 192 they broadcast portions of their convention. They launched a Lutheran radio program on KPO-AM in San Francisco. then in May of 1923 they began fund-raising. The new station, designated KFUO was funded by the Walther League,the Lutheran Layman’s League, and even seminary students. Thea 500 watt station began broadcasting from Concordia Seminary on December l4th, l924. It operated at 545.1 meter wavelength from the middle of the mid-west. 

Maier was not done. Now that KFUO was running he moved on to a new goal of notationally syndicated evangelism. He began by contacting NBC in early 1930. He learned that it was NBC's policy not to permit paid religious air time. Maierwent down the line and contacted CBS. They did accepted paid religious programing but the rates were very high. The cost would be $4,500 per half-hour... an annual cost of over 200k.   The Walther League collected $94,000 and signed the contract with CBS.  The Lutheran Hour premiered on Thursday, October 2, 1930 at 10:00 AM.  Despite good ratings, financial concerns disrupted their broadcasts from June, 1931 through 1934.The program returned in 1935 on the Mutual network and later also the Don Lee Network in California. Maier continued to speak on the program until his death in 1950.

Captain Dobbsie

Captain Dobbsie was better known as Hugh Barrett Dobbs.  He was originally hired as a fitness instructor by KPO-AM to do an early morning exercise program. Previously he'd sold player pianos for a living. The gig morphed into a radio show called the “Ship of Joy” program. This was syndicated on the Pacific Coast network which also included KFI, KGW, KOMO, KHQ and KSL. The show was schmaltz and cheesy, and trite and people loved it. Captain Dobbsie called his listeners shipmates, and happytimers and to himself in third person as Captain Doobsie or as skipper. Try to imagine if Richard Simmons was a pirate and had a radio show. It was like that. More here.

The program began in 1926, originally sponsored by Del Monte Coffee, as an imitation of the Maxwellhouse Show Boat program. The Ship of Joy program ran 8:00 - 9:00 AM and was popular on the West Coast. It became sponsored by Shell Motor Oil and eventually changed it's name to Shell Happytime. The Walt Roesner orchestra played, poetry was read, exercises performed and smiling contests held. They even rigged up a remote broadcast ship-to-shore in 1933 from the cruise ship Malolo en route to Honolulu.

Dobbsie wrote a book about the program complete with naff poetry in 1931. In 1932 he picked up a new orchestra led by Horace Heidt, and theAlemite Brigadeers. the new sponsor was Alemite Motor Oil. Horace Heidt's later went on to his own schmaltzy radio career.. The Ship of Joy program continued until 1935 at which point it's listed as a sustaining NBC program without a sponsor by Forum magazine. The Ship of Joy sailed for 9 years. He died in 1944 after a 3-year stint on KJR-AM in Seattle. He was only 50 years old. More here.

Cheerio! on KPO-AM

At first I thought Cheerio was fiction. The tale seemed mythical, and the main character too good-hearted and idealistic to be real. It's turns out he was just a California.I read some of that first book and it's mostly crap. He lionizes and exaggerates like a talking head on Fox News. But some parts ring true:Charles Kellogg Field entered broadcasting in his sixties and was “Cheerio” on KGO-AM in the mid 1930s. He wrote the semi-autobiographical “The Story of Cheerio” in 1936. Four years later he penned a book of quotations “Cheerio’s Book of Days; Comfort, Cheer and Encouragement for Every Day in the Year.” You can read some here.

Mr. Field wrote "The Story of Cheerio: in 1936. From it's cheerful presentation and that of it's follow up you can tell that Field intends Cheerio to be inspiring. Born in 1873 in Vermont he graduated from Stanford in 1895 and began writing plays and short fiction. He became the editor of Sunset Magazine in 1911. It was an artsy mad about naturalism and the bohemians. The magazine had a pro-worker stance that many today might mistake as anti-industry. But pre-union and pre-OSHA and pre-minimum wage there were many more wrongs to be written about.

He began his foray into radio in 1922 at KPO-AM. The goal of the show was to reach the "shut-ins, and convalescent invalids." the show was popular enough it appears to have been syndicated on WEAF-AM at least briefly. I'd say more the the tale is somewhat hard to collaborate.

In 1936, he bought the Johnson-Field house and turned the barn into a theater. Supposedly, he hanged himself from the banister in 1948. But as much as the rest has been exaggerated I wont confirm that.

The Uncle Don story

He's not my uncle Don. I don't even have an uncle Don. I'm speaking of that old urban legend. The one so old, it's rarely told. It's the one you tell to the young DJs to teach them to keep their yap shut in the booth whether they think the mike is on or not.

A flub committed while filming a movie or TV program could be eliminated merely by doing a new take or in the editing room. If someone say's "fuck" you can bleep it. In radio, especially early radio, everything was live and often unscripted. If you say "fuck:, it was already too late. This is such a tale. but let me first say There is no evidence of at all that Don Carney was ever penalized for anything he said as an on-air radio personality. His show was never cancelled. Period. Like Fatty Arbuckle, the whole deal is a humbug.

Don Carney had an incredibly long-lived broadcasting career. he began as an announcer at WMCA in the 1920s. He moved onto WOR where he broadcast six days a week, beginning in 1928 and continuing through 1947. After that, instead of retiring he got a gig at WOR as a DJ with a program of children's music. After that he semi-retired to Miami beach in 1948 and hosted a weekly children's show on WKAT which he did until his death in 1954. Radio Guide called him "a saint, oracle, and pal to 300,000 children." But the legend says there was an incident that marred this kindly purveyor of children's programming. Witness accounts vary, but here is the basic version:

Uncle Don ended each show with Floyd Neal to signing him off, a station break and intrtoduction for the next program. But this week Uncle Don twittered his usual cheery wind-up, and then, not realizing that the mic was still on, thinking he was off the air, he blurted out: "There, I hope that'll hold the little bastards."

Some sources put it in 1939 others in the early fifties. But really the legend preceeds Dons program by several years and appears ealiers with the flub being attributed to "Uncle John" Daggett of KHJ in Los Angeles, John "Big Brother" Keough of KPO in San Francisco and even the lesser known Graham McNamee even Uncle Whip of WIP. According to Snopes the earliest reference might be the 23 April 1930 issue of Variety"

"A wisecracking radio announcer in a Philadelphia station lost his job about two weeks ago as a result of a stern reprimand of the station by the Federal Radio Commission. Announcer had concluded a bed-time story for children and thought the power was off. For the benefit of the control room he added: 'I hope that pleases the little bastards' This went out over the air. Within 10 minutes several telegrams of protest, among them the Federal Radio Commission, had arrived. Others came later in bundles."

But the variety article mentions no data, no DJ and no station. It's utterly apocrophyal. The lack of verifyable details it typical of legends such as these. ... and never has the FCC or the FRC had the ability to respond in writing to a complaint in 10 minutes.... 10 months would be more believable.