"BOSTON  COMMONS"

It was Christmas Eve in Boston Commons, 1944. 

A stage was filled with a choir, singing Christmas carols.  We were two cadets from the U. S. Maritime Service Radio School at Gallups Island,  in Boston Harbor.   We were on Christmas liberty, and it was our first Christmas away from home in East Texas. 

A Navy Lieutenant and two young ladies, stood next to us.  As the concert came to a close, the Lieutenant introduced himself as "Jack", then asked if we would like to go with him and his sisters to a club.  We were a bit hesitant, knowing that we only had enough money to cover our weekend expenses.  Jack seemed to sense this, and quickly said that the tab would be his.  We quickly agreed, and they escorted us to a  nice hotel, to a club called "The Circus Room".   I don't know why I can recall the name of the club, and not the name of the hotel.  There was dancing, a floor show and drinks.  I expect it was the Circus motif in the club's decor that helped me remember the name of the club.  We didn't have places like this back home.  Jack made a big impression on us, when he simply signed the bill as we left.  We were then invited to attend Midnight Mass at a Catholic church nearby.  We walked to the church and enjoyed a beautiful service.  My friend and I were already signed in at the Newsboy's club for bunks. Our hosts said they lived near there, and walked back through Boston Commons to the Statehouse.  We said goodnight in front of the Capitol, as they explained that their residence was just around the corner. We proceeded to the Newsboy's Club, where we spent the night.

While attending Radio School at Gallups Island, we experienced the hospitality of Bostonians on several weekends during our five month enrollment.  But that Christmas Eve in 1944, remains in my memory. And, I can't avoid the obvious question.   Lieutenant Jack  "WHO".  ????

 

Webmaster note:  Al wrote the next saying in upper case….. Reason??? Al still thinks he is writing broadcast copy!! Most of us announcers were so dumb we couldn’t punctuate properly, nor capitalize in proper place, so all copy was written in the upper case.  We did figure out the end of a sentence.  Usually the writer put …….’s for a pause, and underline for emphasis. 

 

   AGGIE GIG        

 

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE 1941 TCU-A&M GAME WAS CLEAR AND VERY COLD, WITH A RED HOT POKER GAME IN A FIRST FLOOR DORM ROOM.  THE HALLS WERE HUMMING AS RESIDENTS OF CLARK HALL WERE ARRIVING FROM A NIGHT IN DOWNTOWNFT. WORTH.  THEY HAD RETURNED TO CAMPUS ON THE FINAL BUS RUN OF THE NIGHT.   

A FEW STUDENTS STOPPED BY THE  POKER GAME, AND ALL WERE AGITATED ABOUT A LARGE BANNER STRUNG ACROSS THE LOBBY OF THE TEXAS HOTEL.  THEY WERE REALLY MAD ABOUT THE HUGE BANNER SHOWING AN AGGIE CADET STOMPING HIS SHINY BOOT ON THE CROWN OF OUR BELOVED HORNED FROG.

AT MIDNIGHT THE POKER GAME WAS BREAKING UP, AND MY ROOMMATE AND I DECIDED WE NEEDED TO REMOVE THAT EYESORE FROM THE TEXAS HOTEL LOBBY.  WE HAD TO HAVE TRANSPORTATION.   FINALLY, WE FOUND A FELLOW POKER PLAYER, THE ONE WHO HAD TAKEN OUR MONEY.   HE AGREED TO TAKE US IN HIS CAR TO THE TEXAS HOTEL, AND DRIVE THE GETAWAY CAR.HE PARKED AROUND THE CORNER, A BLOCK NORTH OF THE TEXAS HOTEL, AND PROMISED TO LEAVE THE MOTOR RUNNING.

"ROOMIE" AND I WENT INTO THE HOTEL BY THE KITCHEN ENTRANCE,  A FEW OF THE KITCHEN CREW WAS STILL AT WORK, AND WE FELT WE'D BETTER LET THE SUPERVISOR KNOW OUR PLAN.   THE MAN WAS PURPLE TO THE BONE, AGREEING TO HELP.  HE DIRECTED US TO TAKE A SMALL STAIRWAY UP TO THE MEZZANINE.   "ROOMIE" TOOK A DEEP BREATH AND SAID, "LET'S GET IT DONE''.   1942 STYLE PEER PRESSURE. 

ON THE MEZZANINE, IT WAS A WALL TO WALL AGGIE SLUMBER PARTY.  THANKFULLY, ALL WERE SLEEPING SOUNDLY.   JUST BELOW, IN THE LOBBY, SAME SCENE.   AGGIES SLEEPING ALL OVER THE PLACE.  MY ACCOMPLICE SLIPPED OVER TO THE FAR SIDE OF THE MEZZANINE, CUT THE CORD ANCHORING THE BANNER, AND I CUT MINE AND HAULED IT IN.   AGGIES IN THE LOBBY WERE BEGINNING TO ROUSE AS WE HAULED AND ROLLED THE ''BIGGER THAN WE THOUGHT'' BANNER.  WE HAD A BIG LOAD TO CARRY, AND PEOPLE WERE BEGINNING TO COME TO AND CHECK US OUT.   WE FLASHED THROUGH THE DOOR AND DOWN THE STAIRWELL TO THE KITCHEN, DOING OUR BEST TO KEEP THE SIGN IN OUR GRASP.   IN THE KITCHEN, WE DECIDED THAT AGGIES WERE IN HOT PURSUIT.   WE DRUG OUR PRIZE BEHIND A BANK OF LARGE COOKING RANGES, AND COLLAPSED ON IT.  AGGIES WERE NOW SWARMING THROUGH THE KITCHEN LIKE KILLER BEES, RIGHT PAST OUR HIDING PLACE, AND OUT THE KITCHEN DOOR TO THE STREET.  IT WAS THEN THAT I NOTICED MY ROOMMATE WAS TREMBLING.   THEN I REALIZED I, TOO, HAD THE SHAKES.   WE COWERED THERE, WITH OUR NEWLY ACQUIRED ART WORK, FOR  FORTY FIVE MINUTES.  IT WAS SO COLD THAT NIGHT, I'M SURE THIS INFLUENCED THE CADET COMMANDO FORCE TO RETURN TO THEIR SNUG QUARTERS IN THE HOTEL.  THEN, OUR KITCHEN SUPERVISOR HERO GAVE US THE "ALL CLEAR". WE CARRIED, OR DRUG, OUR HEAVY LOAD OUT THE DOOR, DOWN THE STREET, AND AROUND THE CORNER, TO OUR GETAWAY CAR.    OUR FORMER FRIEND HAD MADE HIS HIGH SPEED GETAWAY, WHEN HE SAW THE AGGIE SWARM.  WE WERE   STRANDED.  REMEMBER, THE LAST BUS RAN BEFORE MIDNIGHT. WE THOUGHT ABOUT CUTTING THE BANNER IN HALF, BUT THIS HAD BECOME OUR FLAG, AND WE WERE NOT GOING TO CAUSE DAMAGE TO IT.  WE LAID IT OUT ON THE SEVENTH STREET SIDEWALK AND MADE IT A SMALL ENOUGH ROLL FOR TWO MEN.  WE BEGAN OUR MARATHON BACK TO CAMPUS AT 2:30 A.M.   WE HEADED OUT SEVENTH STREET, AND ANYONE  CAN TELL YOU, THERE IS NO TAILWIND WALKING WEST ON  SEVENTH.   WE TOILED WITH OUR LOAD AND FINALLY BEGAN OUR WALK SOUTH THROUGH FOREST PARK.  WE WERE READY TO BE ARRESTED.  WE NOT ONLY DESERVED IT, BUT WE THOUGHT OF THE FT. WORTH JAIL ONLY AS A PLACE TO GET WARM. AND IF YOU ARE THINKING, WHY WE DIDN'T TAKE A CAB,  DON'T GO THERE.   ALL THROUGH SCHOOL, NEITHER OF US HAD LEFT A POKER GAME WITH MORE THAT A DOLLAR BETWEEN US.  WE STAGGERED BACK TO THE CAMPUS AT 6:30 A.M., AND HAD A GREAT AUDIENCE AS WE REACHED THE DORM WITH OUR VICTORY FLAG.   EVERYONE WAS UP FOR BREAKFAST, SINCE IT WAS THE DAY OF THE BIG GAME.   A GROUP OF STUDENTS CAME TO HELP US, AND SPREAD THE BANNER FOR ALL TO SEE.  AN HOUR LATER IT WAS PUT ON DISPLAY ON THE SECOND FLOOR BALCONY AND REMAINED THERE THE REST OF THE DAY.  IT WAS NEARLY 30 FEET LONG AND MORE THAN A YARD WIDE.   THE GAME WAS THE USUAL 1940'S BATTLE, BUT SADLY ENDED  A&M 14, TCU 0. 

AS THE GAME CAME TO AN END, A BAND OF UNIFORMED FELONS MADE A CIRCLE AROUND THE BASE OF THE TCU FLAG POLE AT THE NORTH END OF THE FIELD.  A RATHER SMALL CADET FLEW UP THE POLE, LIKE A COCONUT HARVESTER, AND GRABBED THE HORNED FROG FLAG.  AS HE DESCENDED, FIGHTS BROKE OUT BETWEEN FROG AND AGGIE FANS.  AN OLIVE DRAB A&M SOUND TRUCK PULLED UP TO THE OTHER END OF THE FIELD AND BEGAN PLEADING WITH CADETS TO RETURN TO THE STANDS.  EVEN THE THREAT OF DISCIPLINARY ACTION HAD LITTLE EFFECT.   SEVERAL STUDENTS WERE INJURED IN THE MELEE, AND WERE TREATED IN THE TCU INFIRMARY.  SOME PEOPLE JUST LIKE TO CAUSE TROUBLE.  "ROOMIE" AND I TOOK NO PART IN THIS DISGUSTING ATTEMPT TO GET EVEN.  WE HAD GROWN UP OVERNIGHT.  

IN THE SCHOOL YEARBOOK, A DESCRIPTION OF THE GAME SAID, "WHEN THE GAME ENDING WHISTLE SOUNDED, IT FOUND THE FROGS DIGGING IN ON THEIR OWN 23-YARD LINE, AND AN AGGIE UP THE FLAG POLE.''       

Broadcaster Incarcerated  In Aggieland
Or
Aggies Finally Get Their Revenge

   It was a cold, cold morning, when I left my home in Palestine, enroute to College Station, Texas. This was a great day in the history of Palestine athletics. The Wildcats had earned the chance to play in  the state championship game that afternoon. And, while that story has been told over and over, my small part in that memorable event, went untold. Until now. Every bridge was iced over, and I was really taking care. Made it safely into College Station by nine a.m.. Whipped on over to the stadium at A & M to set up broadcast equipment in the press box assigned to Radio Station KNET.  A luncheon was scheduled for noon on the Aggie campus, and I had plenty of time to get equipment installed and checked out with the telephone company.  I had been asked to introduce the Palestine team members at the luncheon, so time was not a concern.

   The A & M press box is one of those high in the sky layouts...two or three stories above the grandstand. To reach our perch, required an elevator ride in a small elevator. I gathered my equipment, boarded the elevator and rode to the upper level. When I reached the top, found the door open to the floor I reached. A chair had been placed to hold open the spring loaded door. I entered the booth assigned and put the equipment in order. I used the microphone and headphone to talk to the telephone technician, who was waiting on the line to check me out at nine thirty.  Fifteen minutes later, the process was complete. We had a good line, and all we had to do was wait for gametime. Plenty of time for coffee and donuts, and then make the noon banquet.

   Returning to the elevator, the spring loaded door was closed. The chair had skidded away from the door. The door had no handle, and I had nothing I could use for a pry bar. Anyway, when the door closed, the elevator had returned to the ground floor. No problem, I would just pick up a phone in the booth, and call for assistance. The telephones had not been installed. The handsets would come in closer to gametime. Well, there was a stairwell behind me, I would just walk down. Not on your life, the Aggie engineers had put a door halfway down the stairs. And it was locked.

   I saw a wall phone mounted on the back wall. It, so help me, had a crank on the side of the phone. You lifted the receiver and cranked away. This was a field phone, and no one answered. I cranked this state-of-the-aggie-art, time and again that morning. I said ugly things to that phone and the more I cranked, the crankier I became.

   Trying to be calm, I decided that other broadcasters, ground keepers or stadium employees would surface at any minute. I made a trail back and forth to that elevator door, trying to open it, as if that would help. I spent a lot of time at the huge windows overlooking the field. Not a soul in sight.

   A little after eleven, I saw some action. The Palestine team was coming out of the field house to walk over the field. There they were, way down below on the field. I waved like a windmill. They didn't see me in my high rise cell. The north wind was howling, as the players checked every corner of the playing surface. I was howling from my tower, and no one could hear. I pounded on the glass windows, till I was afraid they would shatter. I looked like Dustin Hoffman pounding on the glass of the church balcony  in "The Graduate".

   Throughout the morning, I got on my microphone, turned on my amplifier, and called and called to anyone that might be on the telephone line we had hooked up to Palestine. After the telephone company checked the line at nine thirty that morning, they tagged it, and forgot it. KNET,  back in Palestine, wasn't due to come back on the line till a few minutes before broadcast time. I was the thirteenth man in Aggie Stadium.

   Forget the banquet, it was past noon. I watched the window, checked the elevator, tried picking the lock on the stairwell door, called again and again on the broadcast line, and cranked and cranked that field phone. Then  a distant voice came on the field phone. It was 12:30, and I did my level best to explain my plight to the man who had finally answered the field house phone. He said, after much pleading from me, "I don't know where you are calling from, Senor." Can you imagine what inner panic I enjoyed at that moment? It was only a few minutes later when someone rang back. He said he knew where I was. I knew that. Ten minutes  later, I was free at last.

   Palestine won the Championship that afternoon, and that made it all worthwhile. But for some unknown reason, I wasn't able to enjoy the victory for several days. I never did get to meet the gentleman who answered the fieldhouse phone, but I will always be grateful to you "Senor".