Transcript
Lindsey Graham (0:00)
There are more ways than ever to listen to History Daily ad free. Listen with Wondry plus in the Wondery app as a member of Noiser plus at noiser.com or in Apple Podcasts. Or you can get all of History Daily plus other fantastic history podcasts@intohristory.com A listener note this episode contains references to sudden infant death. It may not be suitable for all audience It's December 24, 1938, at the La Quinta Resort in Palm Springs, 120 miles east of Los Angeles, California. Irving Berlin makes his way along the side of one of the luxury hotel's numerous pools. A lone swimmer cuts through the water with long, powerful strokes, and if the 50 year old Irving takes a closer look, you'll see the woman is a prominent Hollywood star. But Irving's not all that interested in celebrities. He knows plenty already. So Irving heads away from the pool, weaving through the immaculate gardens of sweet smelling fruit trees toward his room. He opens the door and flips on the light. Irving's room is cool and spacious, its decor both glamorous and understated at the same time. But one thing stands out among the muted whites and delicately luxurious fabrics. Gleaming darkly in the corner is a piano. Irving heads right for it. Irving is one of the most sought after songwriters in America, and for the past few weeks he's been working on a new Hollywood movie. But its tight production schedule means that he must spend Christmas working here in La Quinta. His family is on the opposite side of the country, in New York, and Irving misses them terribly. Irving sits down and his fingers drift aimlessly across the piano keys. He's struggling to focus, thinking about what his young family must be doing right now, playing in the New York snow or back home by the fire in the shadow of their Christmas tree. Irving's wife always gets carried away and spends far too much. Every year there'll be presents and decorations and food and drink everywhere. Meanwhile, Irving is here on the other side of the country, on his own, working. But as he strokes the piano keys, words and images start to form in his mind. Irving grabs a sheet of paper from a pile he keeps beside the piano and scribbles down fragments of lyrics about sleigh bells and glistening snow and the longing for home that he feels aching inside. Then, at the top of the page, he writes a two word title, White Christmas. Over the rest of that night before Christmas, Irving Berlin pens the lyrics to a new festive song. It'll be years before he's entirely happy with the composition, but White Christmas will eventually become the best selling record of all time, a spectacular success that will begin when the song is first performed live on the radio on December 25, 1941.
Bing Crosby (3:01)
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