Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1931-01-04
vGrahan

/ have begun to wonder If there aren't
at least a couple of poets at every
crossroads in the country.
On the other hand, maybe it's only
Jessica. She must be getting 40 or so
poems a week, dedicated to her, and
inspired by her singing over the air. A
surprisingly lot of of it is good enough
to be taken seriously. But can you get
Jessica to tell any one about it? You
cannot; she treats it all as private cor
respondence-and answers all the poets
(and her other correspondents, too,)
herself.
I don't remember that the fact was
ever announced over the air, but Jes-
sica is a poetry-lover. She reads a
great deal of it, and will sometimes adj
nit that she writes it. Only a few of
her most intimate friends have seen
any of it. None of the poems will ever
be published she says, at least as long
as she is before the public. Later she
might consider it.
She is one of the few people behind
the microphone who probably fit rather
closely, the mental pictures listeners
have drawn of them. JesSica is tiny
just a wisp-with taffy-colored hair
and big blue eyes. Well that sounds
like a little Dresden doll, but there's
nothing vapid about, her Her eyes
seem to be looking for lark, but she's
remarkably dignihed for her size
| Sometimes she's also described as
ethereal, but it's not enough to hurt her.
| She can still get peeved enough if any
one tries to interfere with her work.
i In spite of the fact that she made
a hit on Broadway, she leads an ex-
tremely quiet life. She has the trouper's
attitude toward her work, and she
doesn't need any one to advise her in
her own affairs, but people who meet
| her for the first time think she must
have been graduated from her convent
school only yesterday. She likes radio
because there isn't any fuss about it."
And she says that at the end of
four-hour rehearsal.
"PLEASE, Mamma, just 5 minutes
morel"
It might have been a 10-year-old
asking his mother for a few more
moments of grace at the toy counter,
but as a matter of fact it was Prof.
Albert Einstein, the great mathemati-
clan, asking his wife to let him remain
at the broadcasting studios long enough
to survey more completely the intricate
layout of apparatus necessary for shoot
ing programs out through the country.
Our engineers had expected that the
noted visitor might like to take a look
at the technical side of things when
he came to broadcast, but they had no
idea he'd be so delighted. Frau Elm
stein Is extremely careful Of her hus-
bands health, and when he had come
off the air that Saturday afternoon she
felt he really ought to rest. And she
had her way about It,
Both the EinSteins are the simplest
people in the world. They can't see
why Americans make so much fuss
about them, but they put up with it
good naturedly. At the studios, al
though attempts were made to keep
them from being mobbed, they shook
hands with dozens of admirers, and
signed more autograph books han
Nancy Carroll or Ramon Novarro,
which, let me assure you, was plenty.
On their tour through the studios
they came upon a room where a group
Of children were rehearsing. The pro-
fessor stopped, grinned from ear To
ear, and waved heartily. The young
sters came running over, and in q
moment Frau Einstein had both arms
full of gigglers. They all got kisses,
including Howard Merrill, who's well
into his teens and is inclined TO blush
at such things.
While discussing international broad
casting with several radio engineers
who speak German, Prof. Einstein said
it was really too bad the world is so
small, apparently feeling that with such
resource as international short wave
rebroadcasting available there ought to
be more material for feeding it than
one small earth could contain.
And although he hates crowds, and
finds our national curiosity about him
rather amusing, Einstein intimated that
he really had a lot of fun out of his
stay in New York
PACK AT THE time when Jack
- Smart was playing in stock in
Buffalo there weren't very many
radio announcers. There werens,
in fact, very many stations, but
as luck would have it, radio an
nouncer became one of Jacks very best
friends. The announcer was Ken
Pickett.
Jack is now the Joe" of Joe and
vi" and it's all Ficketts fault. In The
intervening years Smart had played
whole lot more stock, had managed
some of the companies, and had had
six weeks of vaudeville in and around
New York.
A year and a half or so ago Jack
was pounding the pavements again in
New York Officially he was resting"
but you know how that is. One day he
looked up F1ckeJC, VINO was Dy C0aC
time announcing at our studios in New
York. Ken suggested Smart Should try
out for a part in a new dramatic pro-
gram based on underworld life-"Whis-
pering Tables it was called.
Smart hadn't seen any underworlds,
but he'd try anything once.
His voice fitted the part exactly and
they made bum out of him. From
that part he went on from one thing to
another and finally ended up as Joe"
where he seems permanently estab-
lished.
Jacks rotund kind of chap, rather
dark, and with a mustache that sug-
gests waxing. Sometimes people take
him for bond salesman, and some
times for a musician. Once an adver-
Using man mistook him for his boot
logger and tried to buy case.
He'd much prefer, however, to be
taken for an artist. He got thrown out
of school and several jobs for drawing
caricatures unwisely well, and once he
wrote sports and drew cartoons for a
paper in New England. Nowadays he
tries his hand at portraits in oil, when
he isn't working before the mike. AS
an ex-stock company manager, one of
his faYorite amusements is standing in
front of big New York theater trying
to guess that nights receipts.
He was nearly fired from his first
radio job; he brought pocketful of
peanuts which he ate ftIrtivelv Tn