Dan's Papers - October 3, 2008 - Stanley Rubenstein, North Fork Radio Man

The radio, the telephone and the movies that we know may just be passing fancies and in time may go. That's what a Gershwin guy wrote a number of years back.

But ask Stanley Rubenstein about that. He may live in Cutchogue but you'll hear him all over the North Fork as he sings the praises of radio, its intimacy and its longevity. Matter of fact, Stan does more than just talk radio, he's the guy who has old radio tapes and will travel to play them to audiences.

Travel he does. To civic meetings, historical association meetings, clubs - with a kind of lecture/tapes/question and answer presentation. I recently caught Stan and one of those presentations at Cutchogue United Methodist Church. It was a couple of hours of fun, let me tell you. So much so, I didn't even leave my seat to get coffee and cake available in bountiful supply.

Stan tailors his presentations to meet a North Fork audience interest. You want to hear early radio and comedy? Stan and Jack Benny keep you laughing. Or you want radio and music? There's Glenn Miller way back when. I attended Radio Broadcasting in World War II. Of course I don't look it, but World War II was not before my time.

You know, I'd never thought about it but early radio had no such thing as 24-hour news. According to Stan, news was insignificant in early radio. Comedy and soap opera were the big guns. And there weren't even any newscasters back in the '20s and '30s.

Stan began his presentation with the granddaddy of U.S. news broadcasters, Edward R. Murrow. Only in his twenties, Murrow was hired by CBS and sent to England in 1938. He'd have time to get ready to broadcast England at war and then the entry of the U.S. into World War II in 194l. Murrow used BBC facilities to broadcast live on a frequency that came first to the north shore of Long Island and was then beamed to New York City. The North Fork audience beamed pride at this.

Though they looked uncomfortable as Stan played Murrow's London rooftop broadcasts of the Blitz - bombs were screaming down in the background and we heard them. By the way, the BBC didn't want Murrow out on London's rooftops - too dangerous. So Murrow took it upon himself to ask permission of Winston Churchill. The British Bulldog said yes. Again, North Fork approval. A broadcaster with grit.

Stan asked if we recalled the names of other WWII broadcasters. Of course we did. Southold's Vallaire Tarulli remembered Eric Sevareid. And Claire Foos from Cutchogue reminded us of Charles Collingwood. Peter Schmidt, also of Cutchogue, added Gabriel Heater and H. V. Kaltenborn to the WWII broadcaster list. North Forkers were on a roll and Stan was impressed.

There was a name not one of us seemed to know. Stan said Mary Breckinridge was the first female radio news broadcaster hired by CBS in WWII. We've come a long way, baby. Ask Katie and Robin and Meredith.

Back to Eric Sevareid for a minute. In August 1940, Sevareid broadcast from a London dance hall - during an air raid. All 1,500 people kept on dancing and we could hear the band playing on and on. Guess that's why there'll always be an England.

By the time 1942 rolled around, WWII radio began using, said Stan, some techniques still popular today. The corner interview, for example. Stationed in North Africa, Charles Collingwood interviewed a few American GIs on a street in Algiers. One soldier said he was impressed by the city but what he really wanted to do was "Kick Rommel in the pants." North Forkers could relate to that.

Stan emphasized the objectivity of WWII reporting. In those days, news broadcasters were not commentators. Folks got the news straight. And then Stan, who'd gotten lots of laughs, left on a somber note. He played Murrow's April 1945 tape of American troops entering Buchenwald. Murrow was with those troops and heard the applause of the prisoners. "Like the handclapping of babies" from men too weak to get up.

And then it was over. WWII and Stan Rubenstein's gift of memory to the North Fork. As the broadcaster said, "Good night and good luck."