There’s an exchange on the December 15, 1940 broadcast that goes as follows. Jack’s ad-libbing around Mary’s line:
Jack: Wasn’t he a different doctor than what we had the first show? (audience laughs) You know, folks, that’s what I like about radio. If your doctor gets sick, you can always use one of your writers.
Mary: Imagine that guy coming all the way from Los Angeles.
Jack: He was here, Mary, he didn’t come from Los Angeles, believe me. I see him every day.
Laura’s indispensable ’39 Forever’ makes no reference to this. But the Milwaukee Journal’s radio column of December 20, 1940 does. Here it is.
I’ve left in the rest of the column as it involves Jack, too.
Jack Benny Struggles to Broadcast Under Difficulties
It’s tough to make a network show sound well polished, even under normal conditions, and Jack Benny was working under conditions far from normal last Sunday.
At 6 o’clock Saturday night, 24 hours before air time, Benny was sure he’d never have a show to offer the public. Everything was going wrong, turmoil reigned supreme and his hair was turning grayer at a fast clip. As “on the air” was signaled, feverish script writing was still going on and actors were being rehearsed for last minute assignments.
When rehearsals began Saturday Jack was afraid he might have to do an entire show by himself, and most of it ad lib. Two actors whom Jack had imported from Hollywood to play important roles were down with bad colds. They were Mary Kelly, who plays “The Blue Fairy,” and Frank Nelson, the “Doctor.” Don Wilson and two other members of the cast were grounded in Texas by bad flying weather, Rochester was still shooting a picture in Hollywood and unable to get away. (That’s why he was supposedly lost in Harlem according to the script.)
Mayor Bide Tallcott of Waukegan, Ill., Jack’s old school chum, wired that he could not leave home until midnight. With so many unknown quantities, the writers hardly knew what to write about and turned up with half a script.
Things improved and then got worse. Wilson and the mayor arrived Sunday morning. But Mary Kelly’s cold was worse and she definitely was out, which called for a substantial change in the script. So the show went on, with Frank Nelson in his customary role, but right after the early broadcast he collapsed. So at the repeat program for the west coast, Writer Eddie Beloin filled in for him.
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No Sting in ‘Bee’
Schubert never could have dreamt, when he wrote “The Bee,” that two comedians, trying to drum up interest on the radio, would give a struggling young violinist $1,000 in 1940 for playing his number on a broadcast. That’s what happened to Stuart Kanin, now 14. Master Kanin was responsible for the now famous feud between Jack Benny and Fred Allen. . . . The whole thing started four years ago this month, when Stuart showed up on the Fred Allen program, played “The Bee: successfully, and was rewarded by hearing Fred say he had done it better than a certain Waukegan fiddler ever could. That remark started the air feud, which resulted in Benny’s playing of “The Bee” some months later. It raged on until Paramount heard of it and hired Benny and Allen to put the battle on film in “Love Thy Neighbor.” . . . The stunt was such a hit, and meant so much to the two comedians, that Master Kanin was brought back on the Allen program last Wednesday night to do “The Bee” once more. This time he was given a check for $1,000 when he finished—the gift of Benny and Allen so he could continue his study of the violin and, perhaps, one day, be famous as a concert violinist. . . . It was a grand gesture for the two comedians, made even better because no advance publicity was sent out by their agencies in an attempt to cash in on Mr. Kanin’s good fortune. In fact, it has been ignored so completely by the advertising agencies concerned that there can be no question of the sincerity of Allen and Benny in making the reward.
transcribed by yhtapmys