Sam Hearn et al

[Yhtapmys]

This piece appeared in the August 6, 1936 edition of the Burlington Daily News and was copyrighted by EveryWeek Magazine. I'm putting the whole thing here because it deals not only with Schleppermen, but so many familiar characters of radio.
Teddy Bergmann, for the uninitiated, also used the name Alan Reed on radio, and you probably know him best as the voice of Fred Flintstone.

THEY MURDER THE KING'S ENGLISH
THERE'S a heavy accent riding the air today. Dialecticians are taking liberties with the English language. They are murdering the English alphabet for the price of a laugh.
These men are in demand on the radio today, not because of what they say, but how they say it. In the roll call are such fellows as Louis Sorin, Teddy Bergman, Burt Gordon, Harry Einstein, Sam Hearn, Lionel Stander,
Jack Smart. Of course, you may know them by the names of the characters they represent.
You may be surprised to know that they are so expert with vowels and consonants that likely as not they have never been in the country which provides the basis of their dialect.
It is part of their stunt to sound real.
Take Harry Einstein, for example, whom you know as Mr. Parkyakarkus, Eddie Cantor's Greek friend. He happens to be an American Jew who used to be a Boston advertising man. Five years ago he discovered that Greek dialect was a good investment.
"My father had a food importing business in Boston," he says, "I learned the Greek dialect in the markets when I was six years old. I've been practicing it for 25 years. A lot of Greeks think I'm a Greek.
"But I can talk half a dozen other dialects just as well—Jewish, Chinese, Irish and others. It is like playing music by ear. You carry the sounds around in your head."
For instance, Parkyakarkus always pronounces "b" as if it were "v"—vasevall for baseball; a Chinaman makes "r" sound like "l"—as in Amelican.
TO Einstein there is nothing funny about dialect. It's the gag that it puts over that brings the laughs. Merely distorting language isn't inherently comic, he says.
Parkyakarkus has become so interested in his adopted dialect that he has cultivated a little Greek—enough to move around in. He has studied Greek history, ancient and modern, and admits that he knows more about Greece and her philosophers and Golden Years than most of the gentlemen from the southern land who conduct ice cream parlors and restaurants in America today.
He has no desire, however, to practice ridicule. He admires the race and wants to be a credit to it. The fact that the Greek percentage of radio audiences likes him is proof that he has a convincing dialect.
Another dialectician, much newer to radio, but also responsible to Eddie Cantor for his spot before the microphone, is Burt Gordon, who has become a sensation as The Mad Russian.
His radio debut was quite an accident. For 27 years he had been doing dialects in vaudeville. Probably you've seen his act—"Burt Gordon and Co." It was a mad, cock-eyed type of comedy.
After vaudeville grew difficult, Gordon moved to Hollywood and played in a number of films, but he had a series of tough breaks. One day, however, he was standing in front of a Hollywood restaurant when he saw Eddie Cantor and his daughters enter the eating place. Gordon began to reminisce.
Once upon a time Cantor, a spindly-legged, big-eyed kid, had come to him for a job when Gordon was playing the Grand Street Theater on the East Side. The kid had said that he wanted to be a comedian, but Gordon already had all the comics he could use. The two men had last met 10 years before, but they remembered each other. They had lunch together while they talked.
Gordon said: "You know, Eddie, you're a great straight man. If I could find a man like you to play straight for me—"
Cantor snapped back: "Can you do a Russian?"
Gordon answered: "Sure I can do a Russian." He had never done one in his life but he had no doubt that he could learn.
"Give me a ring and I'll put you in the show," Cantor promised and asked for the luncheon check.
GORDON went home and started practicing Russian exercises before the mirror.
The character of the Mad Russian was born that day. However, he plays the Russian as mad only half of the time.
"The rest of the time he's a sweet guy," Gordon explains. "It would grow too monotonous if he were mad all the time."
Gordon's theory is that the thing that gives dialect its kick is to tie it up with some incongruous character. He always has done that.
One of the favorite characters which he played in vaudeville was a cowboy in chaps and sombrero who had an East Side accent. If people grow tired of his Russian act on the Cantor show, he wants to do a Mexican with an East Side accent.
Another successful dialectician is little Sam Hearn, who began his radio
career twisting his tongue around the idiom as "Schlepperman" on Jack
Benny's hour. That was two years ago. Today he is starring on two programs besides the Benny hour.
Back in 1932 he was doing rube and yokel characters in the Winter Garden and Hammerstein shows on Broadway. He believed that the public wanted hayseed humor and refused to deviate from his chosen path. Then he took part in a Friars Frolic. He impersonated an East Side characler in one of the skits. Jack Benny was in the audience and laughed
as much as anybody. A week later he signed Hearn up for his show and has made him an important feature. He has made - "Hello, stranger" and "Jake sent me" nationally popular as a salutation and alibi.
Hearn takes his work as dialectician seriously. He pictures his character, Schlepperman, as a typical Bronx go-getter trying to get ahead. He makes him a meek, shy, small, good-natured person who is determined and aggressive withal. Hearn knows his character so well he won't use lines in his script that are not true to the man. He relies on Schlepperman's underlying philosophy to help him get across.
Hearn is also author and star of the Gigantic Pictures program and he plays the role of J. Pierpont Fox, the building superintendent in the Pent House Party programs. These programs have made famous such sayings as"You're dun tooten'" and "Good evening, anybody."
Louis Sorin, who is famous for such roles as MacGillicuddy, MacRappaport, Perlmutter, Abie the Fishman and many others, is one
of the air's best-known laugh-makers. For 15 years he has been playing Jewish dialect parts on the stage, in the movies and on the air.
THREE years ago his radio career began, Fannie Brice gave him the part of Mr. Cohen with her in a skit called "Mr. and Mrs. Cohen" in which she played Mrs. Cohen. One day after that he dropped into an advertising
agency to see a friend who was employed there. The friend took him around to see Walter O'Keefe, who was rehearsing a new show. O'Keefe put him alone in a room with a microphone and told him to say something
funny.
Sorin looked at the microphone and wondered what would be funny. Nothing seemed humorous so he said: "Hello, hello, hello. Mr. O'Keefie!" but he said it with such laughter provocation that he got a job and has held it ever since. He still gives the triple greeting to Mr. O'Keefe in the show. However, if anyone else tried to get a laugh out of these five words the result would be fatal. It's dialed —Sorin's brand—that does it.
Sorin was born and brought up in the Bronx and understands the vernacular of the people in the Jewish boroughs.
"There is just as much harmony in dialed as there is in music," he says. "If it is overdone you hear discordant notes."
Sorin's lines are written for the most part by O'Keefe, but Sorin often transposes as he goes along, changing the pronunciation and substituting
a word here and there. He does pretty much as he pleases so long as he does not change the "feed line." The laugh must come as planned.
The "feed line" is the one that paves the way for the gag. Suppose the woman in the act says: "I ought to have a wrapper around the house." You say: "How big is the house?" In that case "wrapper" is the "feed line."
GAGS last only a week. When the novelty is gone they are discarded. "Lines to the ear" bear repetition, though. Sometimes usage makes them even better. As J. Isadore MacGillicuddy, Sorin has popularized the expressions, "Sweetie Pie" and "I'm tickled into pieces."
He is the only actor in his family. When he chose his profession his father said: "If there are enough crazy people to pay $3.30 to see him act, it is O. K. with me."
O'Keefe, with whom Sorin works, is Irish. Sorin gives five reasons for the successful manner in which Jews and Irishmen work together.
"We are both emotional, we both have been persecuted, both have a sense of humor, both are tolerant, and both can take a joke on ourselves."
Teddy Bergman, who has played more than 1000 roles in 22 different dialects, in his seven years as a dialectician in radio, made his debut on the Columbia network in 1928. He became a favorite at once. His natural
flair for dialect was recognized almost immediately.
He began to mingle with people of all nations in order to master their way of speaking. He ate in Chinese restaurants where he could overhear conversations, went down to the waterfront and talked with the deckhands and chefs of many lands, walked the streets, eavesdropping shamelessly. He didn't care what people were saying but he wanted to know how they said it.

[Yhtapmys]

Hearn Says It's Not 'Hello Stranger'
By JACK BURROUGHS
You can't believe everything you think you hear.
Especially in radio.
There is, for example, the saying made famous by Sam ("Schleppernan") Hearn on the Jack Benny programs.
Ninety-nine persons out of a hundred will tell you it is "Hello Stranger," and you will probably agree with this overwhelming majority.
But this is one case where the majority is dead wrong.
Sam Hearn set me right in this matter in a backstage chat at the Roosevelt, where he brings his local engagement to a close tomorrow night.
What "Schlep" really says is not "Hello, Stranger," but "Hello Stranzer."
A bit of a long shot, that letter "z," for it consistently trails the field in the alphabetical handicap. But in this case you can play it on the nose, for it marks the difference between the ordinary dialectician and a top flight artist like Sam Hearn.
In his dressing room at the Roosevelt the creator of one of the most famous characters in radio entertained local scribes for the better part of yesterday afternoon with reminiscences out of a busy and colorful past. I shall not attempt to do justice to the interview here. In the near future I shall devote a Sunday page to Sam Hearn and his intensely human story.
-Oakland Tribune, Jan. 15, 1938

Alas, I can't find the follow-up article in question.

[Roman]

I may be wrong about this, but I think Harry Einstein is the father of Albery Brooks, the comedian and director. I remember reading once that Albert Brooks had changed his name from Einstein to Brooks because he felt it would be hard to make a career in comedy with the name Albert Einstein.

[Jhammes]

This would be Albert Brooks theory of relativity?

[Gerry O.]

What has always impressed me about many of those "old school" radio actors and dialecticians is the dedicated seriousness in which they took their craft.

These people weren't content to stand up there and perform what they THOUGHT a certain dialect would sound like.....they took the time and extra-effort to research the way of speaking, and to listen closely to the actual people of the certain nationality that they were imitating.

[TheSportsmenQuartet]

I may be wrong about this, but I think Harry Einstein is the father of Albery Brooks, the comedian and director. I remember reading once that Albert Brooks had changed his name from Einstein to Brooks because he felt it would be hard to make a career in comedy with the name Albert Einstein.

Harry Einstein and Albert Brooks are Father and Son. "Super Dave Osborne" is Harry's son as well.

I don't know if this posted elsewhere on this board but there is a famous story about Harry Einstein. He was performing at a Friar's Club Roast. He finished to great applause and sat down. Almost immediately he slumped over with his head in Milton Berle's lap...dead. Berle shouted, "Is there a Doctor in the house?" That brought a huge laugh. So Milton directed Tony Martin to sing, attempting to distract the audience. Martin's unfortunate song choice was "There's No Tomorrow."

[Mister Kitzel]

What has always impressed me about many of those "old school" radio actors and dialecticians is the dedicated seriousness in which they took their craft.

These people weren't content to stand up there and perform what they THOUGHT a certain dialect would sound like.....they took the time and extra-effort to research the way of speaking, and to listen closely to the actual people of the certain nationality that they were imitating.

Maybe, maybe not. In the book, The Adventures of Amos and Andy: A Social History of an American Phenomenon it was mentioned that Freeman Gosden and Charles Correll had press stories about them spending time with many black people in order to bring authenticity to their portrayal of negro life. The book points out they were so busy that they had very little time to do that. It could be that the dialecticians from vaudeville and radio were also too busy to do more than a quick study in dialects when preparing for a role.

[Maxwell]

Perhaps they listened to the dialects as they were growing up. Perhaps they listened to them as they were preparing their acts. I'd imagine that once you pick up on a dialect or accent, it's yours.

[Mister Kitzel]

Mel Blanc said something to that effect in his autobiography.

[LLeff]

Maybe, maybe not. In the book, The Adventures of Amos and Andy: A Social History of an American Phenomenon it was mentioned that Freeman Gosden and Charles Correll had press stories about them spending time with many black people in order to bring authenticity to their portrayal of negro life. The book points out they were so busy that they had very little time to do that..

Actually, not true. Check out http://www.midcoast.com/~lizmcl/aa.html "The Original Amos n Andy" by Elizabeth McLeod and you'll find an extraordinarily well-research (but what else would we expect from Elizabeth?) discussion of the show and how Gosden and Correll did spend a lot of time developing their dialects based on real, natural speech patterns.

[Mister Kitzel]

Without having read the book you suggest I want to disagree that Gosden and Correll spent a great time researching anything. In the book I mentioned above it is pointed out that press releases and newspaper stories were released to make it appear that Gosden and Correll spent time with black people to research speech patterns. At the time Amos and Andy was on radio it was common to fabricate stories for publicity.

With a cast that had more black actors and actresses than white performers, why would Gosden and Correll need to venture further than their rehearsal studio or a visit with a cast member's family?

[Roman]

I'm not sure I understand Mister Kitzel's point. Gosden and Correll said they spent time listening to people to perfect their accents. Do we have any reason to doubt the truth of this? I'm sure they were busy men but that doesn't mean they didn't do as they said. History and modern enlightened views may not be wholly kind to Amos and Andy but that doesn't mean Gosden and Correll were liars about this. The fact that the audiences of the day, black and white, thought that Gosden and Correll were indeed black is a testament to their talent and skill as actors.

[Mister Kitzel]

What I am saying is that according to the book I read, Gosden and Correll did not spend as much time and effort researching black dialects as the press releases and newspaper stories implied. They were too busy.

[Yhtapmys]

Without having read the book you suggest

Don't confuse me with the facts.

Yhtapmys

[Maxwell]

What I am saying is that according to the book I read, Gosden and Correll did not spend as much time and effort researching black dialects as the press releases and newspaper stories implied. They were too busy.

I have no idea whether or not Correll and Gosden did as much research as you implied, but you are making an utterly false assumption, or at least implication, and that is you seem to be saying that they were too busy with (what?) their radio show(?) to research dialects. I read excerpts from the same piece LL mentioned, and the story is that they did that research long before they ever went on the radio. They developed the dialects before they even entered show business, iirc.

They might have worked long and hard on those dialects before they even dreamed of becoming Sam and Henry, and they might have had plenty of time to do so, perhaps as they were growing up. What you seem to be saying is similar to saying that Bix Beiderbecke couldn't have learned jazz by listening to those African-American musicians because he was too busy playing with Jean Goldkette and Paul Whiteman.