La Feria’s Bijou Theater was the only local source of commercial entertainment
I recall, but kids could attend any attraction, for movies of that day were
clean in both theme and language.
Family attractions played Sundays through Fridays; Saturday afternoons
were for kids, featuring serials, cartoons, and westerns; each serial ended
with “Continued next week,” a teaser to bring viewers back. Never addicted to the silver screen, I
seldom went to either Saturday matinees or weeknight features; my viewing was
limited to movies such as “Men with Wings,” which dealt with man’s attempts to
fly and the development of winged aircraft.
The
subject of movies reminds me again of Betty Lou Armstrong, the
skater whom I mentioned in a previous segment.
Betty Lou’s mother loved movies, and saw most that came to the
Bijou. She thought Twila and I were
deprived children, because we “weren’t permitted to go to the movies.” Mrs. Armstrong was never told that our
failure to attend movies wasn’t that we were prohibited from going, but that we
had better things to do with our allowance money.
I probably
saw one or two movies per year in La Feria.
I saw several “big” movies in Harlingen, because top attractions didn’t
always come to the Bijou (e.g., my dad took me to Harlingen to see “The Pride
of the Yankees;” he wasn’t a Yankee fan, but liked baseball, and was an admirer
of Lou Gehrig).
Special
attractions were sometimes promoted at school.
I saw “Snow White” and a 3-D production in Harlingen because of school
promotions. The special glasses needed
to view the 3-D movie were passed out at school, if I remember correctly; they
were probably inexpensive, and generated more business than would have occurred
otherwise, for they definitely made us want to go use them.
Generally speaking, our family wasn’t a movie-going bunch. My mother went to the Bijou only once during
our five Valley years, if I remember correctly; she took Twila and me to see
“The Alamo,” because it was based on Texas history. I don’t think my dad ever went to the Bijou.
My parents bought an inexpensive little
radio about the time school started in 1938 (our second year in La Feria); they
later purchased a large Philco table model with preset tuning for eighteen
stations. Those radios provided much of
our family entertainment.
KRGV-Weslaco, the strongest
Valley station, carried both local and network programming. Its weekday format included early morning
music, morning news, Don McNeill’s Breakfast Club, mid-morning music, noon
news, soap operas in the early afternoon, programming for children and youth in
late afternoon, suppertime news, all-purpose shows (e.g., situation comedies,
mysteries, and detective shows) in the evening, then late news. KRGV was the only English-language station
we received clearly at all times (XEAW, a Spanish-language station in Mexico,
also came in well). At night, when
distant AM signals bounced off the lowered ionosphere, we could hear
transmissions from WOAI 1200 in San Antonio, and occasionally picked up
WBAP/WFAA 820, the twin 50,000-watt Fort Worth/Dallas stations. WLW and other powerful out-of-state stations
could also be picked up at night.
I may have spent as much time listening to radio when I was a teenager
as today’s kids spend at TV; I enjoyed radio entertainment then as much as or
more than I enjoy TV today, for it was always good, clean fun.
·
I hadn’t been exposed to popular (swing, or big band) music
before moving to the Valley, but I liked KRGV’s morning music show. The first song to impress itself on my
memory was “Sunrise Serenade,” a tune I still like.
Novelty
songs (e.g., “Three Little Fishies,” “Mairzy Doats,” and “The Hut-Sut Song”)
were interspersed with “golden oldies.”
(As I write this, I have before me a set of two CDs, upon which are
recorded forty-four “Wacky Hits” of that era; the three I named are included
among the forty-four.)
Bonnie
Baker’s “Oh Johnny” was a big 1939 hit, and “Deep in the Heart of Texas” became so popular The Valley Morning Star
published reader-devised “DITHOTs” (acronym for “Deep in
the Heart of Texas”). Some reader
submissions were hilarious; all followed the pattern of the official version:
The
stars at night are big and bright/Deep in the heart of Texas,
The
prairie sky is wide and high/Deep in the heart of Texas.
The
sage in bloom is like perfume/Deep in the heart of Texas,
Reminds
me of the one I love/Deep in the heart of Texas.
The
coyotes wail along the trail/Deep in the heart of Texas,
The
rabbits rush around the brush/Deep in the heart of Texas.
The
cowboys cry, “Ki-Yippee-Yi-Yi!”/Deep in the heart of Texas.
The
dogies bawl, and bawl, and bawl/Deep in the heart of Texas.
My mother
paid little attention to pop music, but “DITHOTs” caught her attention; she
also noticed “Don’t Fence Me In” and “I’m Gonna Build a Big Fence Around Texas”
when they were popular, but melded them into “Don’t Build a Fence Around
Me.” We had a big laugh when she used
her homogenized song title in a family conversation.
·
Mother listened to “The Breakfast Club,” broadcast
nationally from Chicago, with Don McNeil as host; we kids could listen only
during summer months, for it was broadcast during school hours. The “Breakfast Club” was much like Art
Linkletter’s “House Party” on television years later.
·
None of our family listened to afternoon soap operas.
·
KRGV’s late afternoon lineup included shows like “The Lone
Ranger” and “Jack Armstrong;” I can still hear (in my head) the promo line run
on the latter, “Jack Armstrong! Jack Armstrong! The All-American Boy.”
Jack, his sister Betty, and friends did wondrous deeds.
·
I listened to Chesterfield’s “Fred Waring and the
Pennsylvanians” on summer afternoons, because the day’s professional baseball
scores were read during that fifteen-minute period; I liked the music, too.
·
Kids liked “Mr. District Attorney,” “The Green Hornet,”
“Batman and Robin,” “Inner Sanctum,” and “The Shadow,” all interesting
detective and mystery stories broadcast weekly during early evening hours.
·
Our whole family listened to weekly comedy shows (e.g.,
Fred Allen, Jack Benny, Bob Hope, “Fibber McGee and Molly,” and “The Great
Gildersleeve”). I particularly liked
one line by “Digger” O’Dell, Fibber McGee’s undertaker buddy: “I’ll be your friend to the end; I’ll be the
last to let you down.”
·
KRGV’s Saturday mornings included programs such as “Lincoln
Highway,” “Sky King,” “Northwest Mounted Police,” and “Grand Central
Station.” “Lincoln Highway” was similar
to TV’s “Route 66” of later years, but it followed a route further north;
portions of today’s Interstate 80 follow the route of the old Lincoln Highway.
·
Autumn Saturday afternoon radio featured college
football. I became aware of big-time
football in 1938, when TCU, with Davey O’Brien as quarterback, won the national
championship, but I don’t remember hearing broadcasts until the next year, as I
listened to Cy Leland describe the feats of Jack Crain (the “Nocona Nugget”), a
star Longhorn running back, and “Jarrin’ John” Kimbrough, the
All-American fullback at Texas A & M.
During a 19-game winning streak in 1939-40, the Aggies won the 1939
national championship and stayed undefeated until losing to the Longhorns on
Thanksgiving Day, 1940, when the only score of the game occurred on the
Longhorns’ first possession, set up by a 55-yard third-down pass to the Aggies
one-yard line; Pete Layden scored on the next play.
I didn’t
realize (as I listened to college football broadcasts and heard the names of
stars like Crain and Kimbrough) that I had a relative, J.W. “Red” Goodwin,” playing
for the University of Texas; J.W., a first cousin of my dad, lettered in 1939
and 1940, and was center and captain of the team. (A P-47 pilot during WWII, J.W. was killed in action over
Germany.)
Cy Leland,
a star running back on TCU’s undefeated team of 1929, was a leading announcer of
Southwest Conference football games in the late ‘30’s and early ‘40s. A bit later (in the mid-‘40s), Kern Tips, a Houston advertising
executive, became (for thirty-two seasons) the premier SWC broadcaster; he
described football games better than anyone I’ve ever heard. His career was overlapped by that of Ves Box of Dallas’ KRLD 1080, who I remember best as a Love Field flight
announcer (e.g., “Passengers for American flight 81 will be boarding at gate
12, on the red concourse; all aboard, please.”).
[The names
Cy Leland, Kern Tips, and Ves Box sound like stage names, but they were
real. Equally real were unusual,
ear-catching names of other SWC football personalities of the ‘30s and ‘40s. Dana X. Bible coached at the University of Texas; Matty
Bell was at SMU; Dutch Meyer coached the TCU team from 1934-1953, producing stars with names
such as Sammy Baugh, Ki Aldrich, and Davey O’Brien.]
An
outstanding play I remember from those years of “radio football” occurred
during a game between Baylor and SMU, when Preston Johnson, an SMU
running back and kicker in 1939 and 1940, was credited with a 98-yard punt, the
maximum possible net yardage; the play began on SMU’S one-yard line, and
Preston’s punt went out of bounds on the Baylor one-yard line. I listened to the game in my pastor’s car as
we traveled homeward from a BTU Convention (where Twila and I had participated
in state Sword Drill competition).
·
KRGV carried broadcasts of professional baseball’s All-Star
and World Series games. I listened to
All-Star and weekend World Series games at home and heard portions of weekday
Series games (when students could listen, during study hall periods, to a radio
in the LFHS library science classroom).
[Joe DiMaggio, a young star during my
years at LFHS, known as the Yankee Clipper (he hit safely in 56 consecutive
games in 1941), participated in the 1939 and 1941 World Series, and was the
subject of a pop song including the line, “Joe! Joe! DiMaggio! We want you on our side!”]
·
Brad Smith was KRGV’s primary newscaster; he always signed
off with “That’s 30 for now.” I’ve
forgotten the specific meaning of the “30,” but I think it had something to do
with telegraph or newswire practices; “30” apparently signified the end.
·
Twila says Jack Elliott (“Toots” Elliott’s older brother),
a few years older than we, was an announcer at KRGV. I don’t remember him as a radio personality, but he became a
local celebrity (in absentia) early in World War II when he escaped safely from
a sinking aircraft carrier.
·
Most kids noted (and sang) radio’s commercial jingles; I
quoted a Pepsi Cola jingle earlier, in the “DOWN IN THE VALLEY” segment
of these writings. Toothpaste purveyors
also promoted their products musically:
If it’s
kissing you are missing/We can give you good advice.
Buy a tube
of Colgate’s toothpaste/Cleans your teeth and makes breath nice.
- or -
You’ll
wonder where the yellow went,
When you
brush your teeth with Pepsodent.
We kids
perverted the first line of the Pepsodent jingle to, “You’ll wonder where your
fellow went.” As we guys got older we
learned that Pepsodent didn’t rid us of all tooth stains, and that willing girls
who liked us were more important than Colgate’s toothpaste.
Listening to evening radio entertainment
was our most common family activity at home (other than eating), but my mother
and dad sometimes played board games with Twila and me.
Our most regular joint activity away from
home (other than church participation) was a Sunday afternoon or holiday
drive. Sometimes we went to see new
houses in which my dad was installing tile; other drives might have no specific
destination. I particularly enjoyed any
outing during which I was allowed behind the wheel; I was underage, thus had no
license, but my parents sometimes let me drive on back roads.
I recall Sunday afternoon drives to
Brownsville to see specific attractions, such as (1) a plush new airplane going
into passenger service on routes to Latin America and (2) a submarine at the
seaport. We boarded the plane, but the
line waiting to board the submarine was too long, so we had to leave to reach
home in time for BTU and evening worship.
On holidays we sometimes went to Boca Chica or fished from the jetties at the mouth of the Brownsville ship
channel. We enjoyed watching the
porpoises play, and fish could be caught easily from the jetties; I don’t know
what kind they were, but we never kept any.
◊◊◊
We visited Harlingen occasionally for cultural, educational, or
religious events. I enjoyed
technological shows at the Valley Mid-Winter Fair (e.g., a General Electric
presentation); we saw nylon for the first time at the fair; Twila says we saw a
demonstration of television at one of the shows, but I don’t recall that
event. We also viewed at least one
travelogue.
We went to Harlingen’s First Baptist Church for special events on
several occasions. I remember “sermons”
by a chalk talk artist; another speaker used a flannel board for illustrative
purposes.
◊◊◊
We never attended sports events as a family; Mother wasn’t
interested. My dad liked baseball
(because he had played as a boy and young man), but the Valley had no baseball
teams; I recall his taking me to Harlingen to see the San Antonio Missions play
a spring exhibition game against the Toledo Mudhens. I remember no other time when he attended a team game of any
sort.
He took me to midget auto races at Harlingen; I enjoyed them, but they
were tame compared to races one can view on television nowadays. He also took Twila and me to wrestling
matches in Harlingen (in those days the competitors actually wrestled, using
standard holds for which we knew the names – wrestling wasn’t the wild show
television has made of it).
◊◊◊
My dad had enjoyed hunting rabbits and squirrels as a boy and young man
(we ate the results of his efforts from time to time while living at Acton), but
he didn’t hunt in the Valley; he no longer had family land to hunt on. Twila recalls his taking us to a gar-filled
settling basin south of La Feria for target practice with his “22” rifle, but
he did no real hunting.
[He
received his “22,” a Remington Model 570 pump action rifle, on his 9th
birthday, in 1913. His hunting partner as he was growing up was his dog,
“Snoozer.” I have several pictures of the
dog; on the back of one of those pictures is a notation by my dad, “Snoozer the
Great – 265 rabbits and squirrels in one year through combined
endeavor.” He also took pride in, and
care of, the gun; one couldn’t have guessed its age from its appearance. (I had that rifle from soon after my dad’s
death until it was stolen during a break-in and burglary in early fall, 2000;
to preserve its memory, I have purchased a used rifle of the same model, though
probably not quite as old.)]
I went to the same settling basin occasionally with friends, to shoot
at alligator gars and mud hens; however, I only had my air rifle, not a “22,”
when I was with the boys, so didn’t hurt anything.
◊◊◊
All our family members enjoyed reading –
newspapers, magazines, and books. My
dad read the newspaper each day, but had little time for other reading – except
in preparation for teaching Sunday School lessons. My mother also read the newspaper, and on most afternoons would
lie down on her bed with a magazine, then put it aside when she got drowsy.
Mother
would lie perfectly still (whether awake or asleep), but Twila and I knew she
was awake until her toes stopped wiggling; we knew not to bother her
after all toe movement ceased.
Twila and I read newspapers, kids’ magazines, and books; we received
books as gifts from time to time, but much of our recreational reading material
came from the school library. Twila
says she checked out lots of books from the city library; I don’t even remember
a city library, so I must never have utilized its services.