Sunday, September 20, 2009

WHY WE WERE THE WAY WE WERE

WHY WE WERE THE WAY WE WERE

Many of you have heard of Mercedes McCambridge, Clayton Collyer and Theodore Goetz. But chances are you haven't heard of Ralph Cummings, Lesley Woods and Jane Webb. They were all involved in the early years of America's longest-running radio/tv soap opera: The Guiding Light. And at one time or another they were all friends of mine. However, it's not the friendship, but the history I'm thinking of here...!

This and other soaps helped shape American social history. Especially during their radio hay-days in the 30s, 40s and 50s. Soaps then were a unique American invention which soaked up the moral values of the recently demised Victorian Age, then squeezed them out five-days-a-week from sea to shining sea. Whether written by Irna Phillips or the team of Carl Bixby and Don Becker, whether on NBC or CBS, whether late mornings or early afternoons -- these relentless 15-minute ethical epics were there to remind young housewives of the enduring American truths: Work, honor, family, commitment and especially love!

Admittedly, these truths got wrenched and wrangled a bit by the time the scripts reached television. By the 60s, 70s and beyond, housewives were looking for something steamier than Minister John Ruthledge's homilies first starting on that January 25, 1937 at 3:15 PM on WMAQ. Mom remembered him well, for he was forever guiding his Five Points congregation during her afternoon dinner preparations. Some of which I remember helping her with. All the while listening with her to the good pastor, Mary, Ned and Papa Bauer.

The Guiding Light is gone now. So will be other soaps soon. But in those years of 20th century struggle (Depression, War II, Cold War) the program sought, along with its companion soaps, to energize the women who energized the families who energized the nation. No small task. What's more, each new episode helped those sturdy, aproned echelons keep their clothes and dishes sparkling clean. A win-win situation for performers, networks, sponsors and Mom alike.

They just don't make radio like that anymore, do they? Nor do they television, for that matter. Among the diminishing ranks of stay-at-homes today, such homey Victorian sentimentality has little currency. All a matter of national awakening, say some. A matter of national loss, say others. It is what it is.

Were Mercedes or Theo still here today, they might well see themselves as I did (and do). A fleeting force for good. Their sudsy monologues and stirring reflections helped keep stressed, stay-at-home wives and mothers feel the steadying ground of unchanging moral principles under them. These casts and crews were in effect reassuring Mom and millions of other moms that -- despite the economic hardships, personal losses, and strange new public behaviors around them -- they were right to stay at home! to stay by their man! to fuss over their children! and to be proud to be a woman!

Sociologists and feminists don't always share that judgment; but then they weren't there. I'm not entirely persuaded that all the mothers, sisters and aunts I knew have lived to regret their times. We all look at our world through our own window.

In her later years, Mercedes (a graduate of Mundelein College here in Chicago) had soap opera battles of her own with alcohol. Theo fought the wages of advancing age by working to the very end (including some teleplays of mine in New York). They were pros who started early, lasted long, and remained passionate in their craft.
There were literally thousands of actors, writers, producers and tech crews who like them plunged their young lives into this once mesmerizing art form. Both here and in New York. Both in front of the microphone and later the camera. However, if you could ask Mercedes and Theo today if they were bestowing moral values on millions of fans, they might simply smile. Like the celebrated band singer Helen O'Connell who was once asked what it was like to be "part of an era," these radio artists might have agreed with her answer. "Gee, if I had known I was part of an era, I might have enjoyed it more!"

1 comment:

  1. I never thought about it this way before. Hmmmm?

    ReplyDelete