Bert Lahr
October 1, 1951
Cover Story Excerpt:
From the shadowed haven of the wings, the stage of Broadway's Mark Hellinger Theater looked as big and lonely as a desert at midday. Its barren boards reflected a fierce, mote-filled glare from banked and blazing floodlights, and out beyond it, in the hushed cavern of the theater, the audience waited like a beast in its denmulti-headed, thousand-eyed, impatient and menacingly silent. It was a terrible place for a ballplayer to find himself on the eve of the World Series....Read the full story