Refocusing on Bob Crane: A Friend Shares His Opinion of 'Auto Focus'

By Carol Ford

I know I have not posted in quite awhile - I wish there were more hours in the day! However, it has not been without good reason. I have been concentrating all of my writing efforts on Bob Crane's biography, and I'm happy to report that it is moving along well. I absolutely cannot wait for it to be written and published so that Bob's full and complete story can finally, after all these decades, be known. 

One individual whom Linda Groundwater and I interviewed for Bob Crane's biography was Bob's good friend and neighbor, Harvey Geller, who had been Vice President and Editor of Cash Box Magazine (West Coast), as well as a feature writer, columnist, reviewer, and sales executive for Billboard and Variety magazines. Mr. Geller had known Bob in Bridgeport, Connecticut, at WICC, and later, after both men had relocated on the West Coast, they reconnected while Bob was at KNX in Hollywood. He provided Linda and me with an interview rich with anecdotes and insights and fascinating history about Bob, information that has never before been shared and will be included in the book. Sadly, Mr. Geller passed away in March 2009.

In October 2002, Harvey Geller wrote a Letter to the Editor that was published in the Los Angeles Times. He had a very strong opinion about the film Auto Focus, which had just been released in theaters. We agree whole-heartedly with his opinion on the film, and although we have shared the link to the article many times, I am also sharing it again here. Mr. Geller sums up in a succinct letter exactly how damaging Auto Focus is and the reason why a new, serious biography about Bob Crane is so desperately necessary.

Source: Los Angeles Times / October 13, 2002
Refocusing on Crane - Harvey Geller discusses his friend Bob Crane
of Hogan's Heroes and his dissatisfaction with the film Auto Focus.

Now...Back to writing.

Jonathan Winters on The Bob Crane Show / KNX-CBS Radio (c. 1960)

We've included this clip before as part of another post, but we wanted to highlight it today in memory of Jonathan Winters, who passed away on Thursday, April 11, 2013, of natural causes at his home in Montecito, California. During his 87 years of life, the great comedian and entertainer had inspired countless individuals, many of them young, aspiring actors and comedians. One such peron was Bob Crane.

Jonathan Winters was a regular guest on The Bob Crane Show over KNX-CBS Radio in Hollywood (1956-1965). "Another great one was Jonathan Winters," Bob explained in a 1964 interview with Associated Press reporter Bob Thomas. "He held back the first time he was on because he didn't realize how far I went. Then he asked to come back again, and he was out of this world."

In fact, Jonathan Winters was so out of this world that he managed to do something that the majority of guests on Bob Crane's show were unable to do: get one up on the fast-talking radio personality. Most guests came on Bob's show fully aware that he would roast them a bit. In fact, although there were a few exceptions, the great majority of them enjoyed it and had just as much fun as Bob did on the air. But in an ad-libbed skit between Jonathan and Bob during one interview, Jonathan takes the upper hand and catches Bob off-guard, eventually rendering him speechless - a rare feat for any guest on Bob's show.

That clip is presented here in memory of both Bob Crane and Jonathan Winters, two of the best comedians this world has ever known.

The Bob Crane Show / KNX-CBS Radio

Bob Crane interviews Jonathan Winters / Ad-libbed routine

Circa 1960

The Bob Crane Show - The Wildest, Funniest Morning Program in Radio

Sometimes, it is best to let something speak for itself…

Flyer from KNX-CBS Radio (circa 1960) promoting Bob Crane
and his morning radio show.

Happy Easter, Happy Passover, and Do Unto Others...

By Carol Ford

Bob Crane as Colonel Robert Hogan
in Hogan's Heroes.

I have been extremely busy lately, diligently writing Bob Crane's biography. So deeply involved am I in telling his life story that every so often, I have to go put on the TV or drop onto Facebook to bring myself out of the past and into the present. The telling of Bob's life story, as well as overseeing the cause for his induction into the National Radio Hall of Fame and Hollywood Walk of Fame, is fascinating and rewarding. It is also challenging. 

Thanks to Paul Schrader's "biopic" film AutoFocus, a lot of people who watched the film pride themselves on believing they know Bob Crane. They make grand, sweeping statements about him that they believe to be true. For every positive comment and supportive email I receive, I also get some rather heated notes from people who did not know Bob Crane but who have seen the film and/or read the book, and thus, felt compelled to write. "Haven't you seen AutoFocus?" they ask, wondering why I'm wasting my time and devoting such energy on a story that has already been told, and according to them, about a man who is not worth talking about except to ridicule.

I don't blame anyone for voicing his or her opinion. After all, if it's in the film and the earlier published book, it must be all-inclusive and accurate. Right?

Wrong. From the nearly 200 people Linda Groundwater and I interviewed, from close family to dear friends as far back as grade school to colleagues in radio, television, theatre, and film to the man who was helping Bob Crane overcome his addiction, the overflowing of sentiment and positive remarks was phenomenal. Most people used the phrase "balance the scales" as they shared their recollections of the man who they say was much different than the one depicted in AutoFocus.

As I write Bob Crane's biography, I will be accurate. I will be thorough. I will share his entire life without forgetting that yes, he was human, and no, he was not perfect. Not one person on this earth is. The book will be vetted as well as reviewed by original sources for accuracy prior to publication. Those who have been interviewed are not just contributors, they are active participants in the accurate telling of Bob Crane's life.

I will cover the parts of Bob's life that have been grossly overlooked. How, while working in radio, he became one of the most important figures in radio history, developing a technique that opened up radio like never before and interviewing close to 3,000 people - most of them Hollywood's most glamorous and important celebrities of the day. How, as a husband and a father, he was devoted and loving. How, as someone battling an addiction, was courageous enough to admit it as such and sought professional help. How, as an actor, he took his acting seriously and turned down offers to host television talk shows in favor of acting jobs so he could hone his craft. How, as a philanthropist, he gave back to the community and to charity, and usually for either nothing or for a nominal fee to cover transportation costs (if traveling out of town). How, as a victim of a brutal murder, his memory has received little or no respect in the decades that followed.

Recently, I discovered a similar situation regarding legendary actor and comedian John Belushi. Published two years after Belushi's death, Wired: The Short Life and Fast Times of John Belushi was authored by acclaimed journalist Bob Woodward. With Woodward's impressive resume and credentials, one would think Wired would be the Holy Grail about John Belushi. 

However, Wired missed its mark. Although interviewed at length by Woodward, Belushi's family and friends were terribly disappointed with the book after its publication, and they denounced it, claiming it did not do any justice to the man they knew. In 2004, John Belushi's widow, Judy, hired writer Tanner Colby to co-author a new book with her, this one entitled Belushi: A Biography, which was published in November 2005.

* * *

You be the judge. Here is an excerpt from Colby's article, "The Troubling Things I Learned When I Re-Reported Bob Woodward's Book on John Belushi," published on March 12, 2013. (Click here to read the entire article.)

One of the things that was so spectacular to watch during the filming was the incredible connection that [Belushi] and Landis had. During the scene on the cafeteria line, Landis was talking to Belushi all the way through it, and Belushi was just taking it one step further. What started out as Landis saying, “Okay, now grab the sandwich,” became, in John’s hands, taking the sandwich, squeezing and bending it until it popped out of the cellophane, sucking it into his mouth, and then putting half the sandwich back. He would just go a little further each time.

Co-star Tim Matheson remembered that John "did the entire cafeteria line scene in one take. I just stood by the camera, mesmerized." Other witnesses agree. Every person who recounted that incident to me [Colby] used it as an example of Belushi's virtuoso talent and his great relationship with his director. Landis could whisper suggestions to Belushi on the fly, and he'd spin it into comedy gold. 

Now here it is as Woodward presents it:

Landis quickly discovered that John could be lazy and undisciplined. They were rehearsing a cafeteria scene, a perfect vehicle to set up Bluto's insatiable cravings. Landis wanted John to walk down the cafeteria line and load his tray until it was a physical burden. As the camera started, Landis stood to one side shouting: "Take that! Put that in your pocket! Pile that on the tray! Eat that now, right there!"

John followed each order, loading his pockets and tray, stuffing his mouth with a plate of Jello in one motion. 

* * *

It should make one pause and reconsider. This is why, from the outset, that the research on Bob Crane's life and times for his new biography is an open book to all who participated. This telling will be accurate and not gloss over his life or minimize anything in it.

To apply this same exercise with Bob Crane's biography (as done with Belushi above), here is what Robert Graysmith says about Bob's school days in The Murder of Bob Crane (later retitled AutoFocus). It is the entire extent to which he covers Bob's school days:

Bob attended high school in Stamford, another manufacturing town. He was a good Catholic boy, but his grades were mediocre. The New York State line is only eleven miles from Stamford, and it was in New York City that the boy felt his future lay.

When Bob was fifteen he determined to become a musician; it was the swing era, and percussion was his passion. His favorite drummer was Gene Krupa. Bob loved his ear, his control, his sensitivity and intensity. Krupa, it was said, "did everything but skate on the ceiling," and Crane, as part of his rocking, foot-stomping audience, heard him whenever he could.

A favorite and recurrent dream of Crane's was instant success. "I wanted to be a drummer," he said, "like Gene Krupa..." His eyes would grow wistful as he continued, "I would have this fantasy. I would be at the Paramount Theatre in New York in Times Square, and Louis Prima's drummer would fall sick.

"The theater managers asked, 'Is there a drummer in the house?' I would run up on the stage and play--instant fame!" He sighed. "I never made it, though I never stopped practicing on the skins."

Bob dropped out of high school; he would feel insecure about it for the rest of his life.

Now, here's what Bob's school friends and classmates have told me about Bob for his new biography (and this is just a handful):

Bob had a way about him that could brighten the darkest day. He made others feel good about themselves with a generosity of spirit rare in a teenager or anyone. And we, the remainder of the Class of ’46, have remembered our Drummer Boy fondly throughout the years. We could use some of his sunshine now!

Bob was always in the limelight. Everyone knew who he was, even though we didn’t know him personally. He always had a smile. He most always had drumsticks in his hands. He would tap on lockers, bannisters, or whatever was around as he passed from class to class. Most students knew his name. We were proud to say he made it.

I remember Bob Crane sitting in back of me in school with his "sticks" (fifth grade). He became the "leader of the band" throughout our Stamford High School years. The best are never forgotten.

The school newspaper featured Bob in the April 1946 issue, stating, “His twinkling brown eyes and boyish smile have won him many friends among his classmates. His 5-foot, 11-inch frame is a familiar sight around SHS.” 

Notes: Bob Crane graduated from Stamford High School in 1946. Click here for program listing Bob's name.

Bob also sat in and drummed with many of the classic Big Bands later in life, including the Stan Kenton Orchestra, the Harry James Orchestra, and Rob Morris and the Band, among others. He also interviewed Gene Krupa over KNX, at which time, the two drummers challenged each other in one of Krupa's infamous drum battles.

* * *

As I have sat and talked at length with Bob Crane's family, his dearest friends, and his most trusted colleagues, and they so vehemently denounce AutoFocus, to the point of tears in some cases, how can that be ignored? They say to me, "I watched AutoFocus through parted fingers, as if watching a train wreck," or they just shake their heads and say, "No, no, no! This was not Bob Crane!" Instead, they say repeatedly he was kind, driven, compassionate, and talented beyond measure, and use words like "genius," "sunny personality," "joy," "funny," "smart," and "ray of sunshine" when describing him. This cannot be ignored.

Today is Easter Sunday, and Passover is drawing to a close. It is, for many, the most religious and spiritual time of year. Whatever your spiritual beliefs, however, I ask you to look at others with a bit more kindness. It's a pretty safe bet that you do not know their whole story.

"The best are never forgotten."

Bob Crane on 'The Donna Reed Show' - 1963-1965

Today marks the 50th anniversary of Bob Crane's acting debut on The Donna Reed Show. After seven tremendous years on the air over KNX-CBS Radio in Los Angeles, a hilarious guest appearance on The Dick Van Dyke Show on December 26, 1962, and several other small acting roles, Bob was eager for more. Donna Reed had been a guest on Bob's KNX radio show, and she was enamored with the bright radio star and his on-screen potential. She offered him a guest role in the episode "The Two Doctors Stone," which originally aired over ABC on March 14, 1963. Having successfully won over Donna Reed, her husband and series producer Tony Owen, and audiences, Bob Crane was offered a permanent role on The Donna Reed Show, as next-door neighbor and friend of the Stones, Dr. Dave Kelsey.

Donna Reed, Carl Betz, and Bob Crane (as Dr. Dave Blevins)
in the episode, "The Two Doctors Stone."

It is often misreported that Bob Crane portrayed Dr. Kelsey right from the beginning of his work on The Donna Reed Show; however, he did not. In his first episode, "The Two Doctors Stone," he is credited as Dr. Dave Blevins, a friend and medical colleague of Alex Stone. In this episode, the pair of doctors spend most of the time convincing Donna that she cannot possibly be able to predict Trisha's (Patty Petersen, younger sister of Paul Petersen) cold by the inordinate amount of bananas she is consuming and trying to convince her to take a vacation with Alex. "I could always tell when Jeff was getting sick. He'd eat lots of bananas," she insists as Trisha gobbles up banana after banana. Donna is insulted when Alex pokes fun at her theory, and he tries to make amends. The episode concludes with neither Donna nor Alex being correct; Trisha does not get sick, but Jeff does, canceling any hope for their vacation.

(L-R) Donna Reed, Bob Crane, Ann McCrea, and Carl Betz
The Donna Reed Show

Bob's work on this episode was impressive, and it led to Donna Reed and Tony Owen offering him the regular role of Dr. Dave Kelsey opposite Ann McCrea as his wife Midge. His first episode as Dr. Kelsey, "Friends and Neighbors," originally aired on April 4, 1963. The plot introduces the young Kelseys as they move in next door to the Stones. 

For the next two years, Bob Crane would add an unprecedented amount of spice to the usually sweet family television show. While working on The Donna Reed Show, Bob also held down his regular morning radio show aired over KNX Monday through Friday. He had also been performing a Saturday radio program over KNX, which he stopped doing in 1964. In addition to working on The Donna Reed Show and at KNX, Bob also continued to make public appearances and host celebrity events. It was a grueling schedule, to say the least.

Bob Crane and Ann McCrea as Dave and Midge Kelsey

on "The Donna Reed Show"

"I did The Donna Reed Show for two years," said Bob in a 1976 interview. "I did radio at the same time, and at 10:00 in the morning, I used to finish the radio show, run across the street, and do The Donna Reed Show...I used to get my make-up on during the 9:00 CBS News at Columbia Studios, across the street from CBS Radio. Then I'd run across the street and do the last hour of my radio show, which I had guests on."

Bob Crane in his KNX booth getting a make up
touch-up for The Donna Reed Show
by Rudy Horvatich, head of make-up for ABC.

In the spring of 1965, a new situation comedy set in an Allied prisoner of war camp in World War II Germany was under development. Bob was cast as the lead in the pilot episode of Hogan's Heroes, and after CBS picked up the series for its Fall 1965 lineup, Bob was offered the role. 

Of course, Bob accepted the part of Colonel Hogan, and the rest is history. Wanting to devote his full attention to Hogan's Heroes, and because of his already-intense schedule juggling both radio and television, he decided to leave his long-time job in radio at KNX as well as his role as Dr. Kelsey on The Donna Reed Show. Bob's final appearance as Dr. Kelsey was on April 8, 1965, in the episode, "Indoor Outing." 

The Donna Reed Show was one of the most successful television programs ever produced, and it continues to entertain audiences 50 to 60 years after its debut. Bob Crane had been seeking such an opportunity ever since coming to Los Angeles from the East Coast in August 1956. His work on The Donna Reed Show as Dr. Dave Kelsey made it possible for him to transition completely from radio into acting, and from there, he would go on to excel in the role many believe he was born to play, that of Colonel Robert Hogan on Hogan's Heroes.

Remembering Charlie

By Carol Ford

February 13, 2010. I slid down into the comfy seat as I had done so many times before. My overnight bag rested on the luggage rack above me. Two precious contents—a small CVS bag filled with Valentine’s Day chocolates and a simply framed 8x10 photograph—were wrapped carefully in plastic bubble wrap to protect them for the nearly three-hour ride. My oversized purse, containing all the basic travel necessities of life—photo ID, some cash, iPod, Kindle, and Blackberry—was on the floor, stuffed between my left leg and the metal wall of the train. As Amtrak’s Northeast Regional Express pulled out of Bridgeport, Connecticut, at 6:12 p.m. on the dot, I already had my earbuds in, the music attempting to lull me into a temporary refuge from the events of not only the past week, but of the past few years. 

As the train chugged and rocked its way south through the Connecticut countryside toward Philadelphia, I gazed out the window at the blackness of night, unable to see anything but my reflection and tiny specks of light from street lamps and headlights. I draped my long, black, wool coat over me like a blanket, warding off the wintry chill that managed to force itself inside the heated compartment. How different from all of my other trips to Connecticut. How very different, indeed.

* * * 

Carol Ford with Charlie Zito
August 14, 2008

During the course of the last decade, I have met some wonderful people as the direct result of my involvement in researching Bob Crane's life and now writing his biography. I could never have predicted how many truly beautiful people I would meet and get to know—people who had known Bob either from school or radio or television or theatre or as a family member or even just in passing. Several have touched my heart and have become like family to me, and not the least of which was Bob's best friend from school, Charlie Zito. Born on February 16, 1928, Charlie had been in the same graduating class as Bob at Stamford High School. He and Bob had been "like brothers," and of their friendship. Charlie once told me: "Bob—what a guy. We were close. Really close friends. You know, he never gossiped or talked bad about anybody. Not if he thought it would hurt that person. He was a good guy. We would confide a lot in each other. I knew I could talk to him because I knew it wouldn't go any furhter. He would keep a confidence."

I first talked with Charlie in July 2008, and after careful consideration, he agreed to be interviewed for Bob's biography. Shortly after Charlie's interview, on August 14, 2008, I ventured to Stamford, Connecticut, to meet him. On that day, Charlie took me all around town, showing me his Stamford, as he had remembered it growing up in the 1930s and 1940s—during his and Bob's teenage years. On the tour were distinct landmarks—where they, as kids, used to play baseball and football in Belltown Park; the houses they each grew up in; where they went to school; where they had marched in parades; where they used to hang out at the drugstore for a soda fountain; where they went to church and later were married; where they held their wedding receptions, and later, class reunions. Charlie's white 1980s Ford LTD with the bent antennae became a time machine—a present-day Tardis or DeLorean—that traveled back to a time long ago, to when Charlie and Bob were young and had their whole lives ahead of them.

Charlie in Belltown Park, Stamford, CT.
April 2009

I will never forget that first meeting. It had been a hot summer day, and I had taken the early morning train from Philadelphia's 30th Street Station up to Stamford. After arriving in town, I took a cab over to Charlie's house, and by the time I arrived, I looked like I had just run the marathon because of the blistering heat. Yet, Charlie did not seem to notice. Instead, he focused on my being so very tall, and he joked about our very opposite heights!

"You made it!" he said as I entered his home.

"I did. The train was right on time, my cabbie knew where he was going, and now I'm here. How are you?"

"Not nearly as tall as you!" Charlie gazed up at me in awe, as though looking up at the Washington Monument. "How tall are you?"

"Six-feet even. But I think I'm shrinking."

"I used to be five-ten. Do you believe it? I'll show you my driver's license if you don't."

Charlie and I became fast friends right from the start. After that first day of touring Stamford and seeing it like I had never seen it before, a lasting friendship was born. It was as if we had known each other our entire lives. We talked on the phone several times a week for hours on end. He would tell me of his Sicilian heritage and his wife's French heritage, of his school days, of growing up during the Great Depression and the effect World War II had on him personally and on his generation as a whole, of his kids from the time they were born until the present day and how incredibly proud he was of all of them. Confidences were shared. Advice was offered. Serious discussions about life-changing events merged with light chatter about everyday things. There was never a lull in the conversation; there was always something to say.

Captain Zito after docking his boat, "The Coyote."
September 2008

When I ventured to Connecticut, I would always spend a full day with Charlie, whether it was just driving around town in his "time machine," cruising up and down Long Island Sound on his boat, having lunch at the diner, walking around Home Goods, shopping at United House Wrecking, Co.—one of the best antique stores I've ever been in—and laughing at "the ugly room," enjoying coffee and Linzer tarts at DiMare Pastry Shop (which makes Sicilian, not Italian patries, didn't you know); and most importantly, having ice cream from Cold Stone Creamery—even on the coldest, rainiest day in November.

On February 4, 2010, Charlie and I talked on the phone until about 11:00 that night. We made plans for my visit later in the month. One of the very last things he said to me on that call was, "Write the book," meaning Bob's biography. It meant the world to him to know his good friend was finally going to have his true story told. 

The next day, on February 5, 2010, I received an unexpected call from Charlie's daughter while I was at work. Charlie had suffered a heart attack and died suddenly that morning. I was stunned. Just like that, Charlie was gone. And when he left this world, he took a piece of me with him.

I attended Charlie's funeral, which was held on February 13, 2010, and afterward, his family gave me a little CVS bag containing a chocolate candy heart, which Charlie had bought in anticipation of my next visit, and it broke my own heart. They also gave me the framed photo of Charlie that had been placed in the sanctuary during the service. These precious treasures came home with me that night, resting comfortably in my travel bag on board the train.

Cruising on Long Island Sound with Charlie.
June 2009.

I still miss Charlie, and I will always miss Charlie. I knew him for eighteen months—such a short period of time in the grand scheme of things—and yet, it was a lifetime. Most people do not understand the friendship Charlie and I had. Charlie was 81 years of age when he passed away and would be 85 this year. I am half his age, coming up on my 44th birthday. Charlie used to say to me, "I don't know how to put into words what our friendship is. I don't think there is a word in the English language for it." He was right, and while there may not be a specific word or phrase for our unique friendship, there is a movie that comes pretty close—Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont. It is the best way I think I can explain it.

This blog and all of the "Vote For Bob Crane" Internet presence exist as an awareness vehicle so people can learn about Bob Crane and his work. It is an extension of what his full biography will be, and it is a place where people can hear his radio work and see him in various productions other than Hogan's Heroes. However, without people like Charlie Zito, many stories about Bob's life would have been lost forever. Charlie's testimonies are some of the most poignant and heart-warming I have ever heard, not only about Bob, but about people and life in general.

Today, I want the world to know Charlie. He was much more than "Bob Crane's best friend from school," as he will be described in Bob's biography. Charlie was many wonderful things—a devoted husband, father, brother, grandfather, and uncle; a hard worker and skilled dental technician who owned his own business; a fantastic cook; a knowledgable and entertaining boat captain; a tremendous pianist and musician; a gifted conversationalist; a humble man full of laughter, life, and love; and a very dear friend. He is greatly missed and remembered fondly by many.

Charlie used to tell me that he hated to see a person cry—that if a person cried in his presence, he just could not bear it. Somehow, even knowing that, it does not change the number of tears I have shed over his loss. And somehow, I also know that he would be scowling at each and every one of those tears, and that thought does, indeed, make me smile.

Remembering Charlie. 

Charlie Zito was truly one of the best, and it has been my absolute honor and privilege to have known him and called him one of "my favorite people in the whole universe."

Bob Crane and Mel Blanc - Two Men, Each of a Thousand Voices

By Carol Ford

When I was a kid growing up during the 1970s through the mid-1980s, I - along with most every other kid in America - relished in Saturday morning cartoons. At the time, I was an aspiring artist, drawing everything around me, and even making up my own comic books, complete with their own stories. I even attempted to make my own live-action cartoons by drawing in the corners of notebooks and flipping the pages to make my creations move. I had toyed with going to art school, but instead, obtained my English/Liberal Arts degree and then went on to pursue a career in writing and publishing.

Far and away, my favorite Saturday morning cartoons were Looney Tunes, produced by Warner Brothers, with the voice talents of the late, legendary Mel Blanc. Bugs Bunny was my favorite, but not far behind were the Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote, Daffy Duck, Elmer Fudd, Yosemite Sam, Foghorn Leghorn, Porky Pig, Sylvester and Tweety, Speedy Gonzales, Pepe Le Pew, the Tasmanian Devil, and Melvin the Martian.

Mel Blanc, of course, was the genius voice talent behind Looney Tunes as well as many other cartoon characters, such as Mr. Spacely in The Jetsons and Dino the Dinosaur and Barney Rubble in The Flintstones. At one time, he was providing 90% of the voices for cartoons produced by Warner Brothers, and thus, he became known as the "Man of a Thousand Voices." He had also worked as a regular on The Jack Benny Program, and further, had his own radio program, The Mel Blanc Show, which ran from September 3, 1946, through June 24, 1947. Mel Blanc died at the age of 81 on July 10, 1989. His epitaph on his headstone is simple: "That's All Folks," and beneath his name is inscribed, "Man of 1000 Voices."

During his tenure at KNX, Bob Crane provided countless voices and sound effects as part of his radio program - a technique and skill he had perfected since his childhood and his earliest radio days at WLEA in Hornell, New York, in 1950. Because of his extraordinary skill at being able to change his voice and impersonate just about anyone and anything, Bob had been dubbed radio's "Man of a Thousand Voices."

The other day, I was going through a collection of audio tape recordings lent to me by Bob Crane's son, Robert Scott Crane, which I have been transferring to digital files for preservation. Most of the recordings are Bob's airchecks from KMPC in Los Angeles and KAYO in Seattle. One recording contains a series of voice impersonations, sound effects, and interview clips that Bob had simply labeled, "Bob's Best." And on this tape is a short clip of an interview Bob had done with Mel Blanc, which most likely aired during Bob's KNX show. The clip with Mel Blanc is not long, barely a minute at most, and leads into Frank Sinatra's "When Somebody Loves You" (lyrics by Sammy Cahn). But the real treasure here is not the interview itself, but the 10-seconds where Mel Blanc introduces Bob Crane's show in the voice of Porky Pig.

This 10-second clip of Porky Pig stuttering and stammering his way through the introduction to The Bob Crane Show and then giving up, calling it the Sammy Cahn Show, while short, is one of my favorite discoveries in any of Bob's airchecks. Two men, each with a thousand voices and geniuses in their own right, sharing air time together. 

Simply fantastic.