TRANSCO, THE SYNDICATION BOOM, AND THE CINNAMON BEAR
by Harlan Zinck
In the late 1920s, Freeman Gosden and Charles Correll began distributing their
popular "Amos 'n' Andy" series of radio programs via a process they called a
"chainless chain" - the practice of prerecording shows for upcoming weeks, then
pressing the recordings onto 78-RPM 12" shellac discs and sending them all over
the country for broadcast on local stations. In an era when phone lines could be
notoriously unreliable - not to mention exceedingly expensive - this allowed
each and every episode of "Amos 'n' Andy" to be heard on stations nationwide on
the same day and at the same time. Even Gosden and Correll's live broadcasts of
the shows, emanating from WGN Chicago, were timed to coincide with the recorded
broadcasts.
This simple but effective method of distribution allowed "Amos 'n' Andy" to
become to single most popular show in the country - and it also resulted in the
sale of millions of new radio sets, as the "Amos 'n' Andy" craze quickly spread
throughout the nation.
In addition to selling radios, filling the coffers of radio stations, and
putting more than a few bucks into the pockets of Gosden and Correll, the
success of their "chainless chain" caused a lot of radio people to sit up and
take notice - particularly those who spent their days trying to talk clients
into spending their money on radio advertising.
The reasoning was simple: radio was a gaping maw, a time sink, a force that
constantly consumed as much comedy, drama, music, news, and other programming as could be created for
it -- and was always demanding more. Even the smallest of stations had a need
for enough programming to fill anywhere from four to twenty-four hours each and
every day, usually seven days a week. It was clear that the tenors, sopranos,
piano soloists, farm reports, and orchestral concerts that filled the schedules
of stations earlier in the decade would not be sufficient or competitive enough
to meet the demands of this new era -- especially with network radio shows
getting better every day.
Enter the syndicator.
Using the "Amos 'n' Andy" system of prerecording shows, then selling them on a
subscription basis to local stations, syndicators began creating programs of all
types with the sole purpose of selling them to as many stations in as many
broadcast markets as possible. Thanks to the improvements in recording
technology that had been developed when the movies converted to sound, it was
now possible to prerecord shows of any length onto 12" or 16" records, revolving
at 33 1/3-RPM, and "bicycle" them from station to station. By any standards, the
fidelity of the recordings was more than acceptable, giving the listener at home
the same enjoyable listening experience - and the same high quality
entertainment - as they would receive from any big-time network show.
And, best of all, once a station contracted to air a particular series, they
could turn around and contract with local advertisers to sponsor the show -- and
keep the after-cost profits for themselves. Thus, a department store in Peoria
could afford to sponsor a high-class musical show and a local station without a
network affiliation could present programming just as impressive as its network
rivals -- and both could make a profit in the process.
Not surprisingly, syndication soon became big business - and, in April of 1931,
a company destined to become one of the biggest producers in the industry opened
for business.
The Radio Transcription Company of America, Ltd., based at 1509 North Vine
Street in Hollywood, entered the market by specializing in the production of
recorded programming "in the Hollywood style." Using the smooth and
sophisticated style of Los Angeles-based radio stations as their role model,
TRANSCO specialized in musical "band remote" programs by the likes of Tom
Coakley, Anson Weeks, Phil Harris, Gus Arnheim and Jimmy Grier - popular West
Coast bandleaders who quickly found their fame increasing with their regular
radio appearances. These shows were an immediate hit, bringing some of the style
and glamour of the movie colony into homes all over the country.
It helped, of course, that these programs offered some of the best-recorded
syndicated material on the market. Leasing the studios of Freeman-Lang for their
recording sessions, these early shows were designed to give the listener the
impression that they were hearing a band, live and in person, playing for
dancing at a posh nightspot like the Peacock Court of the Mark Hopkins Hotel or
the famed Cocoanut Grove at the Ambassador Hotel. Sponsors were thrilled with
the opportunity to be associated with such high-quality product and TRANSCO was
on its way.
In 1932, TRANSCO began to diversify, presenting a wide range of recorded comedy,
variety, and dramatic programs to supplement their ongoing musical shows. Among
the productions in these early years were human interest shows like "Strange
Adventures in Strange Lands," nondenominational religious programs like "The
Country Church Of Hollywood," light collegiate musical comedy fare such as "The
Calibama Co-eds," and "The Laff Parade," a fifteen-minute variety show with host
Ken Niles that was a virtual carbon copy of similar shows heard weekly on the
networks. TRANSCO even produced a multi-part adaptation of James Fennimore
Cooper's "The Deerslayer" and an old west musical/adventure program titled
"Pinto Pete in Arizona."
Talent for the majority of these shows came most often from the KHJ stock
company, a group of diverse and talented actors and musicians who could
seemingly do anything on demand and for a reasonable fee. (It helped, of course,
that KHJ's dramatic director Lindsay MacHarrie also served as TRANSCO's
production manager.)
From the start, and throughout its history, TRANSCO was simply a production and
sales company. They owned no studios of their own - their Hollywood and Chicago
offices were simply distribution facilities - and the pressing of the discs
themselves was generally done by the American Record Corporation's Hollywood
plant, which was Columbia Records former West Coast factory. By the time "The
Cinnamon Bear" was recorded, TRANSCO was renting recording time at Radio
Recorders, one of the newer studios that was quickly becoming known for its
outstanding technical staff.
The decision to produce "The Cinnamon Bear" was a good one. Most of the recorded
programs produced by syndicators would be aired only once at any given station,
after which the programs might be sold to a succession of smaller and smaller
stations and eventually consigned to the vaults. A seasonal, limited-run series
like "The Cinnamon Bear," however, allowed a station to establish a tradition: a
series around which a department store could build a promotion that could be
repeated year after year - clearly a brilliant move on the part of TRANSCO.
But, alas, the success of "The Cinnamon Bear" wasn't enough to save the company.
By the early 1940s, there was a serious glut of syndicated programming on the
market. Even networks like NBC had got into the business, pressuring its
affiliates to carry its own syndicated programming just as they broadcast their
live network shows. Whether this caused a downturn in TRANSCO's fortunes, or if
they simply chose to close their doors and explore other pursuits, we just don't
know. But what we do know is that, by 1942, all of TRANSCO's programming -
thousands of hours of prerecorded shows in a warehouse full of 16" shellac and
vinyl discs - was sold to Broadcasters Program Syndicate, under the direction of
Bruce Eells & Associates, Hollywood.
Broadcasters Program Syndicate, under what they called their "Cooperative
Syndication Plan," proceeded to re-release much of TRANSCO's product to a series
of progressively smaller stations at cut-rate prices. For the most part, no new copies of the discs
were made; Eells' company simply glued new labels onto the original TRANSCO/ARC
pressings and "bicycled" them from station to station, meaning that the
increasingly dated shows also grew increasingly worn out. Distribution of
TRANSCO product continued into the 1950s, meaning that some small town listeners
were actually hearing shows that were fifteen to twenty years old. Given the
tremendous advances in radio production techniques, not to mention changing
public tastes in music and entertainment, it's hard to imagine someone in 1952
believing they were hearing a live band remote from the Cocoanut Grove in
Hollywood -- especially when Gus Arnheim played "Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?"
By the end of the decade, most of the TRANSCO product was simply played out.
Television had long established itself as the dominant medium and, aside from a
few stations that still ran "The Cinnamon Bear" out of sheer tradition, programs
produced by the once-mighty Radio Transcription Company of America, Ltd. were
heard no more.
* * *
Now, let's fast forward thirty-five years or so. It's 1977 and "The Cinnamon
Bear" has largely been consigned to memory, though there are old time radio
enthusiasts who have come across copies of the discs, transferred them to tape,
and traded them with others. In a large building in Toronto, Ontario, Canada,
the former recording library of G. N. MacKenzie is being housed in a variety of
closets and rooms and basements. MacKenzie, along with S. W. Caldwell, had been
the two halves of All-Canada, Ltd., one of the country's largest syndication
conglomerates, and had originally contracted with TRANSCO to air "The Cinnamon
Bear" throughout Canada as early as 1937.
The building that housed the library of discs was also being used as the
broadcast facility of two of Toronto's largest radio stations. Every time space
was needed for something else, such as another studio or an office, someone
would give a heads-up call to David Lennick. Lennick, who worked at one of the
stations in the building, was a former CBC radio personality, record collector,
and transfer technician - and, luckily, he had ample storage space and a truck
at his disposal.
On August 16, 1977, Lennick responded to such a call - and among the piles of
discs he loaded into the back of his pickup that day was three complete sets of
"The Cinnamon Bear" plus two copies of the original audition program - one in
its original promotional sleeve. As he finished loading, he got behind the wheel
and turned on the radio to hear that, that day, Elvis Presley had died. An ironic commentary on fame and changing tastes in popular music.
* * *
We fast forward again to early in 2004. David Lennick is now one of the most
respected transfer technicians in the world, as well as a producer of a series
of compact discs offering digitally restored versions of older recordings to new
and enthusiastic audiences. Over the years, he's carefully stored the recordings
for "The Cinnamon Bear" and, after negotiating with Radio
Archives, he agrees to do fresh digital transfers of the discs. In the
intervening years, he's also acquired a set of 78-RPM discs containing musical
tracks from the series, which he agrees to share with the Archives as well.
By this time, the 1995 cassette tape release of the series is out of print. Though of
excellent quality for its time, technology has advanced tremendously, which allows Radio Archives to do a far better and more exacting job of
restoring the audio for a new generation of listeners. First applying CEDAR
processing - a state-of-the-art system which removes the majority of audio
defects without compromising any of the quality of the original recording - Radio Archives proceeds to analyze the recordings and repair any remaining defects
with the use of restoration software. All of the original fidelity is retained
and no augmenting or "improvements" are made; what listeners will hear are 1937
recordings with all of the warmth and quality that the technicians of that era
could apply.
The resulting series, featured in this collection, is the product of our labors - and,
especially, the talents of David Lennick and Tom Brown, the Director of Radio Archives.
Without their work, "The Complete Cinnamon Bear" would not exist; it's thanks to
them that
"The Cinnamon Bear" can be heard and enjoyed by a whole new generation of
listeners.
(Our thanks to David Lennick and radio historian Elizabeth McLeod for their
contributions to this article.)
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