John Dunning > Quotes

“The camera would miss it all. A magnificent picture is never worth a thousand perfect words. Ansel Adams can be a great artist, but he can never be Shakespeare. His tools are too literal.”
― John Dunning, The Bookman's Wake

“The world was getting dangerously crowded with crazy people.”
― John Dunning, The Bookman's Wake

“What's that old cowboy saying? Never was a horse that couldn't be rode, never was a man who couldn't be throwed.”
― John Dunning, The Bookwoman's Last Fling

“Carol would not be a bad one to [settle down] with. She's pretty and bright, and maybe this is what love is. She's good company: her interests broaden almost every day. She reads three books to my one, and I read a lot. We talk far into the night. She still doesn't understand the first edition game: Hemingway, she says, reads just as well in a two-bit paperback as he does in a $500 first printing. I can still hear myself lecturing her the first time she said that. Only a fool would read a first edition. Simply having such a book makes life in general and Hemingway in particular go better when you do break out the reading copies. I listened to myself and thought, This woman must think I'm a government-inspected horse's ass. Then I showed her my Faulkners, one with a signature, and I saw her shiver with an almost sexual pleasure as she touched the paper where he signed. Faulkner was her most recent god[.]”
― John Dunning, Booked to Die

“We're all running away. Some of us just don't get very far.”
― John Dunning, The Bookman's Wake

“Based on the Robert A. Heinlein novel Space Cadet, the series followed the adventures of Solar Guards trainees 400 years hence (as in the TV show, the exact correlating date was used, so the radio series was set in 2352).”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“His death nearly occurred at the microphone: on a People’s Platform discussion of Hitlerism, Jan. 23, 1943, he collapsed in the studio while the program continued uninterrupted. Woollcott died about four hours later, a victim of a heart attack that developed into a cerebral hemorrhage”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“The big-name, big-budget film stars fell away with the last Autolite show, and from 1955 on, the leads were largely carried by radio people. Suspense is the happiest of stories for the confirmed audiophile. Of the 945 shows broadcast, at least 900 are available, most in superior sound, many in full fidelity. The first two years contain shows that may strike the ear of a modern listener as contrived or stilted. Things look up with the arrival of Roma Wines and a budget. The celebrated Sorry, Wrong Number is here in all its versions, though this listener joins those who find it rather boring: the remarkable performance by Agnes Moorehead is lost in its unbelievable premise. So much better were The Diary of Sophronia Winters, The Most Dangerous Game, August Heat, The House in Cypress Canyon, and the marvelous Mission Completed, which cast James Stewart as a paralyzed war veteran driven to murder by the sight of a man who resembles his former Japanese torturer.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“Orson Welles, Bill Johnstone, and Bret Morrison were the best-known voices of the Shadow. Welles was a 22–year-old unknown, a regular toiling in anonymity on The March of Time, when he won the role in audition. His salary, $185 a week, seemed a fortune for a half-hour weekly job that required no rehearsal. His agreement with Blue Coal allowed him to go on without as much as a prior peek at his script: thus, as he told film director Peter Bogdanovich, when he was thrown into a snake pit, he didn’t know how he’d get out till the show ended.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“The arrival of Anton M. Leader as director in 1948 caused few changes. Leader discontinued the veritable rep company (Cathy Lewis, Lurene Tuttle, Joseph Kearns, Wally Maher, etc.) that Spier had used for supporting roles: now there would be open auditions.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“A notorious broadcast occurred on St. Patrick’s Day, March 17, 1949, when an attempt was made to do a remote from the Shamrock Hotel in Houston. As Taylor recalled, reservations were oversold, and when the doors opened, some 1,600 people “were in near-mortal combat for the possession of 1,000 seats.” The bedlam extended to the booth and became critical when guests began shortcutting across the soundstage. Again, from Taylor’s recollection: “One hefty matron grabbed a microphone and, before I could intervene, announced, ‘I don’t give a goddamn about your broadcast—I want my dinnertable seat!’” In a moment of despair, an NBC engineer uttered the most-dreaded four-letter expletive, which was carried coast-to-coast before the show was cut off the air. A transcription survives at SPERDVAC, the radio historical society of Southern California.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“Vallee spent much of the following year conducting the 11th Naval District Coast Guard Band, known as one of the best military units in the nation. He returned to civilian life, and to radio, in 1944.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“but nothing serious happened until July 28, 1942, when Jones went into the studio to record an amusing anti-Nazi war ditty, Der Fuehrer’s Face. Originally intended for the Walt Disney cartoon, Donald Duck in Axis Land, this became in Jones’s hands a musical riot, rocketing the group to national stardom in less than a month. It demolished Hitler’s claims to genetic superiority and established the raspberry as a respectable part of American radio.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“the 1980s he was easily accessible to his fans, his name listed in the Los Angeles telephone directory. One fan who called it was delighted when Vallee answered and chatted pleasantly for more than an hour. In an interview with this writer, Vallee was talkative and witty and courteous while controlling the flow of the talk, acknowledging his contributions as a talent hunter while laughing off the suggestion that posterity was at all enriched by the preservation of his old shows. He died July 3, 1986.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“I am the Whistler, and I know many things, for I walk by night. I know many strange tales, many secrets hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak…”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“The classic example was the story Brief Pause for Murder. A newscaster had decided to kill his wife. His alibi was perfect: he had cut a recording of his 10 o’clock newscast and had blackmailed a felon working at the station into playing it on the air at the exact moment of the murder. The chief of police would be listening; Roger had made sure of that. And with his wife’s body still warm on the floor, the news came on as scheduled, in his own voice. It all worked out so perfectly, didn’t it, Roger?… until the needle hit a flaw, and repeated … and repeated … and repeated …”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“As creator Gibson tells it, the character evolved almost by accident. In 1930, Street and Smith—prolific producers of pulp fiction magazines—decided to try the new medium, radio, in an effort to boost circulation. Once a week a drama would be adapted from an upcoming issue of Detective Story. Adapter Harry Engman Charlot added the gimmick of the mysterious host, called him the Shadow, and left the link to the magazine somewhat tenuous. “Apparently,” wrote Gibson in his Shadow Scrapbook, “some listeners didn’t get this message clearly, because instead of asking about Detective Story Magazine, they wanted the magazine that told about the Shadow.” The answer was obvious—a new magazine, with the Shadow as its nucleus. Gibson, then a hustling freelancer whose acquaintances included magicians Houdini and Blackstone, was called in to help develop the character and get the new publication off the ground.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“He always leaves us alone.” This was true even in controversy. The April 17, 1949 show, Tennessee Williams’s Summer and Smoke, touched off a storm of protest when it depicted a young girl turning to prostitution. “It was bad timing,” Marshall conceded: it had been scheduled on Easter Sunday, and thereafter the fare on that day was confined to classics and comedies.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“Speed Gibson told of a 15–year-old pilot on the worldwide trail of a master criminal, “the Octopus,” and his ruthless gang of henchmen. The chase, with the fate of the world at stake, led to Africa and the Orient. Speed’s membership in ISP was secured by his uncle, crack agent Clint Barlow. Their semi-comical sidekick was Barney Dunlap; his interminable catchphrase was “Suffering whangdoodles!” This trio flew to Tibet in the airship Flying China Clipper, to keep after the Octopus gang. The opening signature brought in the sound of a droning aircraft and the urgent voice of an air trafficker: “Ceiling zero! … ceiling zero! … ceiling zero!” The entire serial (178 chapters) is available on tape, a fine example of mid-1930s juvenile radio.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“His unofficial headquarters was a table at the Stork Club, where he could be seen in conversation with all types of tipsters and newsmakers. He became friends with J. Edgar Hoover and had his car fitted with a police radio, a siren, and a flashing red light. Sometimes he beat the police to holdup scenes.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“Rogers’s closing signature, encompassing his Christian ideals and his belief in the Golden Rule, became a radio classic: “Goodbye, good luck, and may the good Lord take a likin’ to ya.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“But he began to lampoon the rise of Hitler, and soon his life was entangled in global politics. He was playing an engagement in Stockholm when the Nazis invaded Denmark in April 1940, and, believing himself to be on Hitler’s “extermination list,” he escaped to New York with his wife. He arrived in the United States with no personal belongings and ignorant of American customs and speech.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“that people in general had fresher minds and were more open to serious topics at the beginning of the day. “Most people are liberals when they drink their morning coffee and conservatives after a hard day’s work,”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“Gibson stepped onto a relentless treadmill, writing a full novel for each issue. Working under the pseudonym Maxwell Grant, he became one of the busiest practitioners of the pulp era. By 1932, buoyed by success, the magazine had become bimonthly, and Gibson was writing a novel every two weeks. Ultimately, he would do more than 280 Shadow books.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“This Is Your FBI was inevitably compared to The FBI in Peace and War in the G-Man thriller parade. Radio Life concluded that both were worthy and there was little to distinguish one from the other. This Is was privy to official Bureau files, while Peace and War was mainly fiction. But Peace and War sounded authentic: its author, Frederick L. Collins, had received Bureau cooperation in his research, though the radio version of his subsequent book remained unsanctioned.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“Throughout his career, he was a champion of old songs: often he claimed that, in all his years on the air, he never introduced a new tune. He didn’t croon, he said: he just sang ‘em. His favorites were such as Dark-town Strutters’ Ball and Every Cloud Must Have a Silver Lining. Frankel died June 13, 1948, but shows he had already transcribed were continued.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“THE SAINT, detective drama, based on the novels by Leslie Charteris.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“Tales of the Texas Rangers, starring Joel McCrea as Ranger Pearson!
Texas!… More than 260,000 square miles!
And 50 men who make up the most famous and oldest law enforcement body in North America!”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“The early shows had the breath of Victorian melodrama: the music had a tingling quality, of time running out or fate closing in. The narration enhanced it: … the hushed voice and the prowling step … the stir of nerves at the ticking of the clock … the rescue that might be too late, or the murderer who might get away … we invite you to enjoy stories that keep you in … Suspense”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio

“Richard Diamond was also seen on TV (1957–60), but the role as played by David Janssen bore little resemblance to the Powell original. The most notable gimmick of the TV series was the addition of a secretary, Sam, who was seen only as a pair of gorgeous legs (which belonged to Mary Tyler Moore). The radio show was charming, though peppered with moments of genuine silliness. A solid run is available on tape. Powell, though at ease with the microphone, did tend to fluff.”
― John Dunning, On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio