the somewhat mundane years we lived in Spunky Flat the few bright spots seemed
all the more glorious. We had the only radio for miles and people would come from
all over to listen to the National Barn Dance out of Chicago on Saturday nights.|
we came in from the fields for lunch (we called it dinner) we all listened to
“The Lightcrust Doughboys”. Some of our neighbors, not being familiar with the
way radios worked, would drop in at all hours of the day and ask us to tune in
“The Lightcrust Doughboys” as if they were standing by waiting for our beck and
call. Other programs we savored were Jack Benny, The Bing Crosby Program, Fred
Allen, Fibber McGee and Mollie and Burns and Allen. When a championship fight
was broadcast the house overflowed and the neighbors spilled out onto the porch
and into the front yard to listen. There was the daily serial “Jack Armstrong,
All American Boy” and others I can’t recall but my brother and I preferred above
all the “Little Orphan Annie” show each day after school. This was no sissy program.
There was plenty of exciting, rip roaring action Sam and I ordered their “secret
decoder badge”. Each day they would send coded messages that could be solved with
this magic device. Considering the fact that we had a three and a half mile walk
home we knew we had to hustle to make it time. No matter how much we scurried
we could never quite make it for the opening theme. Even taking the shortest route
with a final sprint through a cotton patch, the strains of “Who’s the little chatter
box?” etc. would waft faintly across the field before we reached the house. However,
we arrived in time to hear the episode of the day.
Some of my fondest memories
are of our family gathered around that wondrous box that took us into a different
world. Young people ask, “What did you look at while you listened to the radio”.
Actually, we didn’t look at anything. The room disappeared entirely and we were
transported to the scenes described on the radio.