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About Herald and news. (Klamath Falls, Or.) 1942-current | View Entire Issue (June 22, 1958)
The Man Who Came to Breakfast tj cms by Alfred Balk When the depression made laughter at any hour difficult, a young man in Chicago set out to make sleepy radio listeners chuckle over their morning coffee. Few sponsors or anyone else thought he could do it But Don McNeill got laughs and listeners and sponsors on long-term contracts. So many, in fact, that on Monday the American Broadcasting Company will salute the silver anniversary of Don McNeill's Breakfast Club the oldest daytime show in broadcasting. In that time, McNeill, 50, has hardly changed his recipe of corn, droll Americana, and touches of plain-folk senti ment and religious inspiration. Skits, interviews, music, verse, gags, human interest Don and his cast use them all and will do anything, if it's clean, for a laugh. Paunchy, sad-eyed Sam Cowling, McNeill's chief heckler, has been around for 20 years. He will dress in a nightshirt, dive against a drum, sit on women's laps, or pretend to shave with a hand mike. Almost every day, a highlight of the show is a trumpet blare announcing "Fact and Fiction from Sam's Almanac." Such as: "Fifty per cent of the married people in Denver are women." Or, "The distance from the head of a fox to its tail is a fur piece." Another veteran is Fran Allison (of Kukla, Fran, and Ollie fame) who carries on as the homespun spinster, Aunt Fanny. The largely daffy atmosphere of the Breakfast Club Don conducts interview with nimble inverted gymnast. McNeill presents gifts from his many listeners to Salvation Army colonel. Portrait of the emcee as a young man: Don made many smile in 1933. it fs Another veteran who has contributed to the perennial success of the B 'akfast Club is Sam Cowling, who'll do anything for a gag. McNeill with a side-kick of many a fun-provoking program over the years Fran Allison in her role as Aunt Fanny. draws about two million listeners each week-day morning. Among them, in addition to the housewife in Davenport, la., are Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas, FBI chief J. Edgar Hoover, and Texas oilman Glenn McCarthy. This vast listening audience has made the program the most valuable daytime property in radio, good for $5 mil lion annually in advertising revenue. Over the years McNeill and his show have put many per formers on the road to stardom. Among them have been Fibber McGee and Molly, Bill Thompson (Mr. Wimple), the Merry Macs, the Songfellows, and Homer and Jethro. Though the Breakfast Club preserves a high degree of spontaneity, some of it is plotted in advance. The studio audience turns in information cards, which are sifted for odd occupations, strange requests, or other unusual items by producer Cliff Peterson and writer Eddie McKean. When McNeill arrives in Chicago's Loop from suburban Winnetka, he selects several of the most promising cards, and when the show is ready to go on the air, he knows whom he'll call for interviews and has already mack up a few gags about them. The program has its serious moments, such as "Memory Time," a two-minute segment of homay verse want in fey a listener; or a "Sunshine Shower," in which McMoIll suggests sending cards and leMtrs to varioa rant-hno residents or hospital patients. But the feature with the most impact probably ia th "Moment of Silent Prayer." Begun as an inter-faith pryer fConlinned on page 14) 4 Family Wrrklv. June 21. 1951