← History That Doesn't Suck
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Visit ixllearning.com audio to get the most effective learning program out there at the best price. Hey, Ryan Reynolds here from Mint Mobile. Now I don't know if you've heard, but Mint's premium wireless is $15 a month. But I'd like to offer one other perk. We have no stores. That means no small talk. Crazy weather we're having. No it's not. It's just weather. It is an introvert's dream. Give it a try@mintmobile.com Switch upfront payment of $45 per three month plan $15 per month equivalent required New customer offer first three months only, then full price plan options available, taxes and fees extra. See mintmobile.com history that doesn't Suck is driven by a simple mission to make learning legit. Seriously researched history more accessible through entertaining stories. If you'd like to support the work we do and receive ad free episodes, bonus content and other exclusive perks, we invite you to join our membership program. Sign up today for a seven day free trial at htdspodcast.com membership or click the link in the episode notes. It's about 8:40 in the evening, October 30th, 1938. John and Estelle Paltz are spending the evening at home in their apartment at 8 East 15th street in New York City. This small brick apartment is just a block east from Union Square and above some small shops like the Stampin Album Company of America and Bartochini General Contractors. It's not a particularly rich neighborhood, as the Federal Writers Project Guide to New York puts it. Union Square District Belongs to the working people of New York. And that certainly describes John and Estelle. Theirs is a tenement Life. They have $6 to their name. Yeah, the Great Depression isn't over. Definitely not for the pulses. That's why they've decided to stay in tonight and enjoy a cozy fire and some music on the radio. While John gets comfy, Estelle turns on the set. It's already tuned to the local CBS station. I wonder, did they listen to something this afternoon? Perhaps they caught the musical stylings of the Texas Rangers, now helping to make country music a distinct genre. Maybe they caught a performance by the New York Philharmonic. Well, whatever it was before, it's time to enjoy some more free broadcast entertainment tonight. But then the music stops. A news broadcaster, it seems, cuts in. He's talking about a strange object that crashed in New Jersey. That's not very far from me. The Garden State is just across the Hudson. Estelle asks. What is it? John answers, a news broadcast. Surely. They listen closely, and it only grows more horrific as they hear more. As Estelle later recounts, my blood seemed to coagulate and stop as one horrible thing after another happened right before us. New Jersey was in danger. Raymond Boulevard, Newark. A few blocks from my sister's home and her baby's was filling with black smoke. The horror of it. John darts to the apartment roof to look for the black smoke while Estelle is frozen in front of the radio. Even though John can't see any black smoke or any evidence of what this broadcast has described as an invasion, Estelle is robbed of her reason, as she puts it. Only one thing remained to do. Run. Fly. Get on the fastest thing on wheels and go as far and as quickly as our last of $6 would take us. The couple flees into the streets, only stopping to warn a stranger of the coming invasion. As they dash toward Penn Station on 34th street, they buy tickets to take them to Hartford, hoping that getting out into the open country might buy them some temporary safety quota. Stout anywhere but wait to get trapped in downtown Manhattan and choked to death like rats. Once aboard the train, they can finally collapse. Hand in hand, the terrified couple scans the car. No one seems to be in a panic. They must not have heard yet. Just imagine the panicked mobs. Once word breaks out, John and Estelle decide to keep their secret to themselves. No need to, but wait. What's going on? The train is stopping. Did word just arrive about the invasion? Has it spread out of New Jersey already? Oh, God. They're trapped again. John finds two young college students and asks them what's going on. But as he does, he can't help himself. He must explain his and Estelle's panic. New Jersey has been invaded and it's in ruins. They heard it on the radio. Just as Estelle feared, a crowd is gathering around her and John. Someone runs to ask the conductor why they've stopped and returns saying that some woman needed an ambulance. But no, that can't be. Someone shouts. He's just saying that to keep us calm. The panic is growing. Some say that Estelle and John are lying, or that they're mad. But with everything going on in the world, invasions in Europe, invasions in Asia. Could they be right? An invasion here in America? Suddenly, John shouts to Estelle, who is Orson Welles? Estelle stops. She knows that name. She's listened to many of the radio plays that Orson wrote and starred in. She shouts out, find a paper. Finding an old trampled issue of the New York Tribunal, the panicked train car tears through the paper until they find it written in plain ink. 8pm Orson Welles near Cree Theater War of the Worlds welcome to history that doesn't suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and I'd like to tell you a story. Happy Halloween everyone and welcome to our fifth annual Halloween Special. As you likely have noticed, I generally prefer to find a spooky topic that aligns with where HTDS is in the story of America. And given where we are currently, it just makes good sense to bring you the story of the famous, or perhaps infamous War the Worlds Radio broadcast. If you're not familiar with it, by all means, let me fill you in. Performed by the Mercury Theater on the Air, this Orson Welles retelling in 1938 of the classic turn of the century Martian invasion fiction originally by H.G. wells. Side note, no relation is probably one of the most famous examples of mass hysteria, or at least reported mass hysteria in US History. As the story goes, many Americans had happily tuned in to hear the popular Chase and Sanborn Hour featuring the ventriloquist antics of Edgar Bergen and his puppet Charlie McCarthy. But some switched away when a less than stellar music act came on, landing them on the War of the Worlds broadcast. The already started broadcast Having missed CBS's opening disclaimer that clearly stated the program was a work of fiction. These unsuspecting listeners, thoughtless dial twisting, you know, the radio equivalent of channel surfing on a TV or mindlessly scrolling through social media, stumbled into a shockingly realistic news style radio drama. And just in time too. The Martians had landed in New Jersey. The State militia was being wiped out and and New Yorkers were choking on clouds of poison gas released by the alien war machines. The day after the broadcast the New York Times headline declared radio listeners in panic Taking war drama as fact. Yep, our friends John and Estelle Paulse weren't alone in thinking that the broadcast was a real news report. Tales abound of such confused and terrified people, including 63 year old William Dock of the New Jersey who took to the streets with his shotgun searching for the Martians invading his home state. Now after the broadcast there are studies about the panic and studies about those studies. Some say that America experienced widespread hysteria. Others say that the panic never happened and was made up out of whole cloth by newspapers exaggerating the matter. As we often find the truth is in the middle. To quote historian Abrad Schwartz, the vast majority of listeners understood the broadcast correctly. And those few who were frightened did not passively accept what came to them over the airwaves. But exaggerated. Panic or not, the aftermath and reaction to the supposed panic was real. As the War of the Worlds broadcast concluded at 9 o' clock on that fateful night, October 30, 1938, Mischief Night, as some call this Halloween Eve. Police and reporters swarmed Orson Welles and the producers at cbs. They faced an investigation by the Federal Communications Commission and this led to a press conference at which Orson put on the most contrite performance of his career, telling reporters, of course we are deeply shocked and deeply regretful of the results of last night's broadcast. While we won't hear that story today, the only consequence that this gifted storyteller saw was was a brilliant Hollywood career which included directing Citizen Kane and playing Harry Lyne in the Third Man. Yes, our tale is Orson's brilliant broadcast of the War of the Worlds. That's what I would like to recreate for you today. But before we join Orson and the Mercury Theater for their scripted alien invasion, let's take just a moment to get a touch more context and to help us understand why so many people were fooled and to get a brief biography of Today's guest storyteller, Mr. Orson Welles. Once that's done, we'll then tune into the CBS broadcast, or at least a shortened HTDS version of it. The power of the radio in early to mid 20th century America is truly incredible. Of course we know this from past episodes. We witnessed the technology spread with the nation's growing electric infrastructure in episode 156 and watch it bring entertainment and the world into people's living rooms. In a way never previously imaginable. Speaking of entering people's living rooms, we also know that's the MO Behind President Franklin D. Roosevelt's fireside chats. Across several episodes, we've seen how FDR speaks to the average American in a way that no president ever has before, thereby making the seemingly distant and inaccessible executive of the nation feel like an intimate friend. Add to that music programs and ball games, and these radios, which are cheap to buy and free to use, minus the electricity, a true selling point in the midst of the Great Depression, are nothing less than a godsend and true marvel of modern technology. But it's not just prearranged speeches and entertainment. Radio brings an option for news that neither newspapers nor film reels can even come close to live reporting. Back in March 1932, when audiences found themselves desperate for updates about the kidnapping of the baby of the national aviation hero Charles Lucky Lindbergh, they turned to their radios for the most up to date info. And when the child's remains were found that May, the whole nation mourned together as the news came over the radio waves. Okay, so the radio breaks news. But where is the line between news and reenactments? That blurs a touch with news shows like the March of Time. This and other Programs in the 1930s broadcast both live and recreated events. Americans can hardly tell the difference. Sometimes this happens not only with recreations of the Lindbergh kidnapping trials, but with but also with Herbert Morrison's emotional, riveting coverage of the 1937 Hindenburg crash. Remember that tragedy from episode 188? Well, Herbert records it on site live, but it doesn't air live, it's broadcast later as a recording. Meanwhile, Americans are also used to breaking news interrupting their sports and other entertainment programs, especially as we've seen in our last few episodes, with military invasions becoming commonplace around the world. In fact, it was just a month before Orson Welles Martian invasion of October 1938 that Americans heard about the Munich Agreement appeasing Adolf Hitler by giving him the Sudetenland, an event I trust you recall from episode 187. It's also interesting to note that just 10 months after the War of the Worlds, the Nazis used a falsifying radio broadcast to justify their impending invasion of Poland. You might recall that event from episode 187 as well. There's no evidence Orson Welles work inspired them, of course, but it does show how, even on opposite sides of the globe, radio has become a powerful tool, not just for entertainment and real information, but even Manipulation. In short, this is a time when radio is king. When news broadcasts are taken very seriously, even if the line between reenactment and live news can get blurry. And when entertainment programs regularly get interrupted for breaking news. And that is the perfect recipe to lead some Americans, particularly those who tuned in late, thereby missing the this is fiction preface to take Orson Welles scientific sounding talk of a Martian invasion as the gospel truth. And now that we have our radio situation sorted out, ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce our creative broadcaster, the one and only Orson Welles. Born in 1915 to a concert pianist mother and a father who had made a fortune from inventing a popular bicycle lamp, George Orson Welles spent his earliest years in Wisconsin. But that changed when his father's alcoholism led to his parents separation. Orson moved with his mother to Chicago, but that too ended abruptly when she died of hepatitis shortly after his ninth birthday. Returning to live with his wealthy but less than responsible father, Orson reached 11 years of age and was then enrolled at the prestigious Todd School for Boys in Woodstock, Illinois. There, under the mentorship of his teacher Roger Hill, Orson found the inspiration to pursue performance. Taking to the stage and even experimenting with radioacting. But alas, just after Christmas in 1930, 15 year old Orson suffered the loss of his only remaining parent. Kidney failure took his father. After finishing school the following year, he took his inheritance on a tour of Europe. In Dublin, he boldly walked into the Gate Theater claiming to be a famous Broadway actor. Whether they believed him or not, he soon found himself performing, performing on stage. Returning to the States. It's during a performance of Romeo and Juliet that Orson caught the eye of John Houseman, who worked with the Federal Theater Project's Negro Theater unit in New York. Ah yes, you may recall the WPA's many arts related projects back in episode 175. Well, Orson blew the top off New York's theater scene with an adaptation of Macbeth featuring a black cast and replacing Scottish witchcraft with Haitian voodoo. By 1937 he and his company had acquired their own stage and named it the Mercury Theater after a magazine that happened to be in the room at the time. Meanwhile, Orson made a pretty penny on the radio with shows like the March of Time and as the voice of noir detective the Shadow. If you don't know the answer yourself, ask an older relative sometime who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men. Without missing a beat, they'll probably respond, the Shadow knows. Combining theater and radio, Orson then made a deal to produce radio dramas for CBS under the Mercury Theater banner. Adapting classic literature into one hour radio plays. Ah, that brings us to our tale. It's under these circumstances that Howard Koch ends up with the task of adapting H.G. wells War of the Worlds about a Martian invasion in early 20th century England into a radio play about a Martian invasion in New Jersey and New York in 1938. After a week of sleepless nights, struggling with the script and working with Jack Houseman and others from Mercury, Howard finally manages to land a script that meets Orson's strict expectations for drama. With a finished script, several rehearsals under their belt, and no real hopes for their Halloween broadcast, the Mercury Theater was ready to bring Martians to Earth. Little did they know the outsized impact their creative work would have nationwide. So without further ado, let's go back to the start of this night. And this time, rather than listen with John and Estelle Pulse, let's go into the studio to watch the performance. And remember what you're about to witness is a broadcast of fiction. It's seconds before 8pm October 30, 1938. We're in Studio One on the 20th floor of the Columbia Broadcasting System's 24 story white brick skyscraper at 485 Madison Avenue in New York City. Choking down a glass of pineapple juice, the Evening Star, the 23 year old handsome and haggard actor Orson Welles steps up to his podium and dons his headphones. In less than a minute he'll be doing what he was born to do. Perform. With the sleeves rolled up on his sweat soaked dress shirt, his eyes dart across the script on his music stand one last time, the crew runs cables around the microphones facing the 10 Mercury Theater actors below Orson, they warm their voices and ready their sound effects right next to the music conductor, Bernard Herman. As he warms up his 27 piece orchestra. With the countdown beginning, Orson signals to their announcer Dan Seymour to start. He steps up to the large black microphone marked cbs, takes a deep breath and kicks off this radio drama.
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The Columbia Broadcasting System and its affiliated stations present Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre on the air in the War of the Worlds by H.G. wells. Ladies and gentlemen, the director of the Mercury Theater and star of these broadcasts, Orson Welles. We know now that in the early years of the 20th century, this world was being watched closely by intelligences greater than man's and yet as mortal as his own. We know now that as human beings busied themselves about their various concerns, they were scrutinized and studied. Yet across an immense ethereal gulf, minds that are to our minds as Ours are to the beasts in the jungle, intellects vast, cool and unsympathetic regarded this earth with envious eyes and slowly and surely drew their plans against us. We take you now to the Meridian Room in the Hotel Park Plaza in downtown New York, where you will be entertained by the music of Raymon Raquello and his orchestra. Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt our program of dance music to bring you a special bulletin from the Intercontinental radio news. At 20 minutes before 8 Central Time, Professor Farrell of the Mount Jennings Observatory, Chicago, Illinois, reports observing several explosions of incandescent gas occurring at regular intervals on the planet Mars. The spectroscope indicates the gas to be hydrogen and moving toward the Earth with enormous velocity. We now return you to the music of Ramon Raquello playing for you in the Meridian Room of the Park Plaza Hotel, situated in downtown New York.
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The radio drama continues in this way. A short piece of music plays until it's interrupted by a special news bulletin announcing the discovery of astronomical disturbances on Mars. And, oh, is it realistic. It's easy to see how a listener not really paying attention, or perhaps someone just coming to the program while mindlessly doing some dial twisting, could mistake this for a typical music program getting interrupted by real breaking news. The radio drama carries on as the newsmen introduce two characters with more information coming in about the explosions on Mars. The first of these live radio reporters is Carl Phillips, who's sent to Princeton, New Jersey, to interview eminent astronomer Professor Richard Pearson. While Professor Pearson is happy to explain that there is no life on Mars, the two are suddenly interrupted by more news that a large meteorite has crashed at the nearby town of Grovers Mill, New Jersey. The two men are able to travel the 11 miles in the space of a music break where they are ready to investigate this odd occurrence further.
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We take you now to Grover's Mill, New Jersey. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Carl Phillips again out at the Wilmer Farm, Grovers Mill, NJ. I wish I could convey the atmosphere, the background of this fantastic scene. Hundreds of cars are parked in a field in back of us, and the police are trying to rope off the roadway leading into the farm. But it's no use. They're breaking right through. Cars headlights throw an enormous spotlight on the pit where the object's half buried. Something's happening, ladies and gentlemen, this is terrific. This end of the thing is beginning to flake off. The top is beginning to rotate like a screw. And this thing must be hollow. He's moving those idiots back off the top floor. Go. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the most terrifying thing I. I've ever witnessed. Wait a minute. Someone's calling someone. Something I can see hearing out of that black hole. Two luminous discs for the eyes. It might be a face. Might be. OMN. We are bringing you an eyewitness account of what's happening on the Wilmeth Farm, Grovers Mill, New Jersey. We now return you to Carl Phillips at Grover's Mill. Ladies and gentlemen. Marion. Ladies and gentlemen. Ladies and gentlemen, here I am. Back of a stone wall that adjoins Mr. Wilmer's garden. From here, I get a sweep of the whole scene. I'll give you every detail as long as I can talk and as long as I can see. More state police have arrived. They're drawing up a cordon in front of the pit. About 30 of them. No need to push the crowd back now. They're willing to keep their distance. The captain's conferring with someone. Captain and two policemen advance with something in their hands. I can see it now. It's a white hacks if tied to a pole. Flag of truce. Those creatures. Know what that means? What anything means. Wait a minute. Something's happening. Humped shape is rising out of the pit. I can make out a small beam of light against a mirror. What's that? There's a jet of flame springing from the mirror. And it leaps right at the advancing men. It strikes him head on. Lords are turning into flames. He's caught up by the woods of the gas tank tanks of the automobiles spreading everywhere. Coming this way now, about 20 yards to my right.
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The whole studio sits in silence as Orson's pregnant paws commands attention, letting the airwaves go deadly, shockingly silent. While listeners across the nation, like Estelle Paltz, are certain they've heard Carl Phillips's last words. Orson continues to hold silence for a full six seconds before letting the actor, Carl Frank, continue the tale. And oh, do his words leave listeners in suspense.
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Ladies and gentlemen, due to circumstances beyond our control, we are unable to continue the broadcast from Grover's Mill. Evidently the there's some difficulty with our field transmission. However, we will return to that point at the earliest opportunity. You are listening to a CBS presentation of Orson Welles and the Mercury Theater on the air in an original dramatization of the War of the Worlds by H.G. wells Performance will continue after a brief intermission. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.
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The holidays have arrived at the Home Depot and we're here to help bring the excitement with decor for every part of your home. Check out our wide assortment of easy to assemble pre lit trees so you can spend less time setting up and more time celebrating. And bring your holiday spirit outdoors with unique decor like one of our Santa inflatables. Whatever your style, find the right pieces.
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At the right prices this holiday season.
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At the Home Depot. At New Balance, we believe if you run, you're a runner, however you choose to do it. Because when you're not worried about doing things the right way, you're free to discover your way.
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And that's what running is all about.
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Run your way@newbalance.com Running well, I was down on my last dollar than I.
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Started saving because the bank said fiscal.
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Restraint is what you're craving.
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So I put my earnings in a high yield account, let the savings compound and the interest mount. I'm optimizing cash flow, putting debt in check. Now time is my friend and not a pain in the neck. And we've got a little cash to rebuild the old deck.
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Boring money moves make kind of lame songs, but they sound pretty sweet to your wallet. PNC bank brilliantly boring since 1865 it's no surprise that listeners nationwide are reeling from the apparent death of Carl Phillips. The actor who plays the radio newsman Frank Reddick had prepared for his role by listening to a recording of the actual broadcast of the crashing of the Hindenburg zeppelin, which also happened in New Jersey just a year ago in 1937. But now in studio one, actor Carl Frank brings the audience back from the most terrifying piano interlude of their lives. In his role as an unnamed newsman, he announces the death of on the ground reporter Carl Phillips. He then shares news that the state militia is launching a counter strike. And then as Captain Lansing of the Signal Corps attacks with 7,000 men, the radio audience listens with rapt attention as this the sign cylinder suddenly grows taller than the trees. Captain Lansing responds by calling for a spotlight. But then it's nothing but silence. And at this point our in studio newsman returns with horrible news.
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Ladies and gentlemen, I have a grave announcement to make. Incredible as it may seem, both the observations of science and the evidence of our eyes lead to the inescapable assumption that those small, strange beings who landed in the Jersey farmlands tonight are the vanguard of an invading army from the planet Mars. The battle which took place tonight at Grover Mills has ended in one of the most startling defeats ever suffered by an army in modern times. 7,000 men armed with rifles and machine guns pitted against a single fighting machine. Of the invaders from Mars, 120 known survivors, the rest strewn over the battle area from Grover's Mill to Plainsboro. Crushed and trampled to death under the metal feet of the monster or burned to cinders by its heat ray, martial law prevails throughout New Jersey and eastern Pennsylvania. At this time, we take you to Washington for a special broadcast on the national emergency. The Secretary of the Interior, citizens of the nation, I shall not try to conceal the gravity of the situation that confronts the country, nor the concern of your government in protecting the lives and property of its people. However, I wish to impress upon you private citizens and public officials, all of you, the urgent need of calm and resourceful action. Placing our faith in God, we must continue the performance of our duties, each and every one of us, so that we may confront this destructive adversary. With a nation united, courageous and consecrated to the preservation of human supremacy on this earth. I thank you.
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The military responds to the advancing Martians with an artillery attack. Listening in, audiences Here at the 22nd Field Artillery score a direct hit, only to have the Martians switch to spreading a thick, choking black smoke that even with their gas masks leaves the artillerymen coughing until they just go quiet. From the top of the broadcasting building in New York City, our unnamed newsman reports on the approaching Martians as New York evacuates the hopeless situation. As he reports, no more defenses.
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Our army is wiped out. Artillery, air force, everything wiped out.
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As more reports come in across the country of additional cylinders falling, smoke spreads across the Big Apple, killing everyone in its path as it comes. For our reporter, there's no one left to cut to. The only sounds are those of people in terror. A ham radio breaks the silence hopelessly. A voice asks across the quiet airwaves.
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Isn'T there anyone on the air? Isn't there anyone?
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We then get another reminder that this is just a play, not a real story. Some hear this message, others are already on the run. Whether they're listening or not, the rest of the radio drama belongs to Orson. Coming back to the role of Professor Richard Pearson, the astronomer who managed to survive the attack at Grover's Mill and now relates his experience through a diary.
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As I set down these notes on paper, I'm obsessed by the thought that I may be the last living man on Earth. I've been hiding in this empty house near Grover's Mill, a small island of daylight cut off by the black smoke from the rest of the world. All that happened before the arrival of these monstrous creatures in the world now seems part of another life. My wife, my colleagues, my students, my books, my observatory, my. My world. Where are you Writing down my daily life, I tell myself I shall preserve human history between the dark covers of this little book that was meant to record the movements of the stars. But to write I must live. And to live I must eat. Presently, with an odd feeling of being watched, I caught sight of something crouching in a doorway. I made a step towards it, rose up and became a man. A man armed with a large knife. Stop. Where do you come from? I come from many places. A long time ago. From Princeton. Princeton, huh? That's near Grover's Mill. Yes, Grover's Mill. There's no food here. This is my country. All this end of town, down the river, there's only food for one. Where were you? You're in a uniform. Yeah, what's left of it. I was in the militia. National Guard. That's good. There wasn't any war any more than there's war between men and ants. Yes, but we're eatable ants. What is there left? Life. That's what I want to live. And so do you. We're not gonna be exterminated. And I don't mean to be caught either. Tamed and fattened and bred like an ox. What are you gonna do? I got it all figured out. We live underground. I've been thinking about the sewers under New York. There are miles and miles of them. The main ones, they're big enough for anybody. And there's cellars, vaults, underground storerooms, railway tunnels, subways. You begin to see, huh? We'll get a bunch of strong men together, no weakness. That rubbish out. We gotta make safe places for us to stay in, see? Get all the books we can. Science books. That's where men like you come in, see? We raid the museums. We'll even spy on the marshes. May not be so much we have to learn before. Just imagine this. Four or five of their own fighting machines suddenly start off. Heat rays right and left. Not a Martian in them. Not a Martian in them, see? But men, men who've learned the way how, may even be in our time. Gee, imagine having one of them lovely things with a feat ray wide and free. We'd turn it on Martians. We'd turn it on men. We'd bring everybody down on their knees. That's your plan? You? Me own the world. I see. Hey, hey, what's the matter? Where you going? Not to your world. Bye, stranger. Well, after parting with the artilleryman, I came at last to the Holland Tunnel. Entered that silent tube, anxious to know the fate of the great city on the other side of The Hudson. Cautiously, I came out of the tunnel and made my way up Canal Street. Suddenly, my eyes were attracted to the immense flock of black birds that. And there before my eyes, stark and silent, lay the Martians with the hungry birds pecking and tearing brown shreds of flesh from their dead bodies. Later, when their bodies were examined in laboratories, it was found that they were killed by the putrefactive and disease bacteria against which their systems were unprepared. Plain after all, man's defenses had failed by the humblest thing that God as wisdom has put upon this earth. Maybe that the destruction of the Martians is only a reprieve to them and not to us. The future ordained. Perhaps.
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While Orson isn't fully aware of what his broadcast has done, he's got an idea. CBS executive Davidson Taylor has already tried to pull the plug on the broadcast after learning that their switchboards have been overwhelmed with phone calls to the studio and hearing tales of the mass hysteria in reaction to the broadcast. Nonetheless, show producer Jack Houseman managed to fend off the executives, allowing the show to finish. But neither the Mercury Theater actors nor its crew are ready for the restless night and weeks that await them. Similarly, Americans as a whole are not ready for the restless years that await them. They don't yet know that the terrors of war that they just experienced in a science fiction radio drama will soon return in the years ahead, when they'll listen to reports of real American soldiers, sailors, pilots and Marines fighting in the largest, most technologically advanced war the world has ever seen. Not a war of the worlds, but certainly a world war. But that, of course, is a story, or rather, the story to come in following episodes. So for now, I'll defer to our brilliant guest storyteller, Orson Wellesley, as he signs off from our Halloween broadcast. Take it away, Orson.
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This is Orson Welles, ladies and gentlemen, out of character to assure you that the War of the Worlds has no further significance than as the holiday offering it was intended to be. The Mercury Theater's own radio version of dressing up in a sheet and jumping out of a bush and saying, boo. So goodbye, everybody. And remember, please, for the next day or so, the terrible lesson you learned tonight. That grinning, glowing, globular invader of your living room is an inhabitant of the pumpkin patch. And if your doorbell rings and nobody's there, that was no Martian. It's Halloween.
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History that Doesn't Suck is created and hosted by me, Greg Jackson, with guest performances by Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre episode, researched and written by Greg. Not a Marshall Jackson and human scum Will King. War of the Worlds Script written by Howard Koch and based on the novel H.G. wells production by Airship Sound design by Molly Bach Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzade Theme music composed by Greg Jackson Arrangement and additional composition by Lindsey Graham of Aerschief. Her bibliography of all primary and secondary sources consulted in writing this episode. Visit htdspodcast.com HTDS is supported by fans@HTDSpodcast.com Membership My gratitude to you kind souls providing the funding that helps us keep going. Thank you. And a special thanks to our patrons whose monthly gift puts them at producer status. Ahmad Chapman, Andrew Nissan, Anthony Pope, Art Lane, Bob Stinnell, Bonnie Brooks, Brian Goodson, Bruce Hibbert, Charles Clanden, Charlie Mages, Christopher Merchant, Christopher Pullman, Cindy Rosenthal, Colleen Martin, Dan Gee, David Rifkin, Durante Spencer, Donald Moore, Elizabeth Chris Jansen, Ellen Stewart, Ernie Lomaster G2303 Jeffrey Nelson, George J. Sherwood, Gareth Griffin, Henry Brunges, Holly Hamilton, Jake Gilbreth, James Bledsoe, James Blue, James Schlender, Jarrett Zangora, Jeffrey Moots, Jennifer Ruth, Jeremy Wells, Jessica Poppett, Joe Dovis, John Boovie, John Frugal, Dougal John Hubbard, John Keller, John Messmer, John Oliveros, John Rudlevich, Jonathan Sheff, Jordan Corbett, Josh Wood, Joshua Steiner, JP Brooks, Justin May, Justin Spriggs, Karen Bartholomew, Carl and Elizabeth Sally Carl Friedman, Carl Hindle, Ken Colbert, Kim R. Kristen Pratt, Kyle Decker, L. Paul Goringer, Laura Norman, Lawrence Neubauer, Linda Cunningham, Mark Ellis, Marcia Smith, Matt Siegel, Nate Seckinder, Mick Catherill, Noah Hoff, Owen W. Sedlak, Patrick Day, Reese Humphries, Wadsworth, Rick Brown, Rob Drazovich, Sam Holtzman, Sarah Trailer, Sharon Thiesen, Sean Baines, Stacy Ritter, Steve Williams the Creepy Girl Thomas Churchill Thomas Matthew Edwards, Thomas Sabbath, Tyn and Sarah Turner Todd Curran, Tomba Stafka, Wesley McKee, Zach Green, Zach Jackson join me in two weeks where I'd like to tell you a story.