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"Hello, everybody. . . a real contest. . . . Thank you."
First voice:
"Jack, JACK. ... we wanted Jack to say hello, too . . . boxed a real good fight . . . Tunney managed to master him. . . ."
In Chicago, Estelle Taylor at— the Edgewater Beach Hotel, listened to her husband's beating. At the end of the story, or shortly after four men died near their loud speakers, she collapsed.
In New Britain, Conn., Harry Blews looked forward to 52 Sundays in church. He had bet his Sunday mornings for a year on Dempsey against the Rev. Samuel Sutcliffe, whose stake was a promise to buy at least five-cents worth of sweets for 365 days, in Blew's ice cream store.
"Good evening, Ladies & Gentlemen of the radio audience" has become almost a trademarked phrase to the listening world. It means Graham McNamee. A letter with no other address than that was delivered by the postal service to WEAF, headquarters studio of the National Broadcasting Co. Inc., Mr. McNamee's employer.
Four years ago Graham McNamee walked into WEAF, asked for a job, took a voice test, got the job.
As a boy, Mr. McNamee sang soprano. Now 34, he has long since lost his high notes but still sings in concert as a baritone, always including in his program "The Fields O' Ballydare," simple Irish ballad. But he has little time for concerts. Things happen fast in the U. S., and, wherever in the U. S. anything nationally important is happening, Graham McNamee sits there telling the world.
From the relatively simple process of announcing bedroom story-tellers and weather reports on the regular studio program, Announcer McNamee has assumed a position of national prominence. Inevitably, he has had much criticism. Sports experts grumble that he does not know the sport he is describing. Radio executives answer that neither do most of the listeners; that colorful, general reports are more satisfying to the masses than accurate technical descriptions. Sports experts, particularly fight listeners, agree that with seeing many fights and football games his knowledge is increasing.
His first fight was the Greb-Wilson bout for the middle-weight championship (1524). His prominence extended with World's Series baseball. His first great national, non-sporting events were the Demo-cratic and Republican Conventions of 1924; his most famed, the Lindbergh receptions this summer. At the Radio World Fair in 1925, he won a solid gold cup (in the form of a microphone) as most popular announcer in the U. S., receiving 189,470 votes out of 1,161,659. He receives a huge "fan" mail, including marriage proposals. He is married to Josephine Garrett, concert and church soprano. His next discourse that will reach the ears of millions will be the World's Series Baseball games, beginning Oct. 5. He is the recipient of many a gift. "Every day is a birthday with Graham."
Another voice is often confused by loudspeaker addicts for that of Mr. McNamee. The voice is Phillips Carlin's and it is this very similarity that prompts WEAF to assign them together. One broadcaster cannot talk ceaselessly; when he is resting it is less confusing to have a substitute voice of close resemblance. Mr. Carlin was a boyhood orator in Manhattan public schools. He entered the silk business. He went to war. He joined WEAF as an announcer and is now manager of the Manhattan key station.