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Great Days In Dayton
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“Great Days in Dayton

Reproduced on these pages is the full script of a “Great Days in Dayton” broadcast.  All music and sound effect “cues” are indicated just as they appear on the working scripts used by the cast.  The sponsor hopes that you will find interesting these dramatized episodes from the life story of your city.


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[Theme.  Starts fortissimo, then fades behind…]

ANNOUNCER:  “Great Days in Dayton!”



ANNOUNCER:  The Dayton Power and Light Company presents “Home of Aviation,” another chapter in the history of our city.  In the weeks that have passed we have lived through many great days in Dayton…days that shaped great movements in the history of our community.  But in the midst of recreating the scenes that were, let us not forget that other great days lie in the Dayton of TODAY, as well as in the DAYTON OF THE FUTURE.  These even greater days are safeguarded and assured by the vision, progressiveness, and united civic loyalty of Daytonians.  The Dayton Power and Light Company, as a part of this community, is happy to share with its citizens this vision of the future—and happy, too, to play a part in accomplishing that vision.  (PAUSE.)  And so, let us relive some of the great days of Dayton’s past—the not too distant past that is still fresh in the memories of many.  (PAUSE.)  Sometimes men dream dreams.  Sometimes those dreams come true.  Since the days when dreams began, the eyes of men have lingered on far horizons, followed with envious stare the clean, sweeping strokes of feathered wings bent in soaring flight.  Since the days when dreams began, there has burned in the hearts of men the secret compelling urge to FLY.  And at last, in the early years of the 20th century, that desire was realized.  On December 17, 1903, Wilbur and Orville Wright made the first power flight in the history of the world at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina.  Man’s age-old dream of flight had at last come true.  (LONG PAUSE.)  And now, here is your narrator, Mr. Charles McLean, who will introduce today’s drama.



NARRATOR:  Nineteen hundred and three! That was the year the Panama Canal was begun and Doctor Curie announced the discovery of radium.  That was the year Dan Patch broke the world pacing record at Memphis—when Jack London’s “Call of the Wild” and John Fox’s “Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come” were best sellers.  Nineteen three…nineteen ten…nineteen fifteen—how the memories crowd back from those years before the war!  Leg O’ Mutton sleeves—bicycles—nickelodeons—big sailor hats –feather boas and parasols—the San Francisco earthquake—high button shoes for the ladies—barber shop quartets’ singing “Sweet Adeline”—band concerts in the park.  (PAUSE.)  And a scant six years after a coughing little motor took Orville Wright into the air in the first power flight that lasted a matter of seconds, headlines announced to the world new records in flying—the measures of new scientific achievements made with startling swiftness once man had taken to wings.  Louis Bleriot crossed the English Channel for the first time by plane in 1909; two years later Glenn Curtis made the first take-off from water in aviation history in San Diego Harbor—and the first airmail… a matter of a few miles…was carried in the fall of the same year.  Quickly the years moved on to 1915 and in Europe nations echoed to the tramp of marching feet and the boom of big guns.  Papers in this country were filled with headlines, talk of neutrality, pacifism and preparedness.  [Fades.]



   [Fades in hollow boom of cannon—hold—fade out.]

DaCOSTA:  And then came the sixth day of April, nineteen hundred and seventeen…[Fading.]

Newsboy [Fading in.]:  EXTRA!  EXTRA!  WAR DECLARED!  EXTRA!  EXTRA!  Read President Wilson’s Proclamation!  EXTRA!  EXTRA!  United States [fading] at war!  Read about it.  EXTRA!  [Fade out and in.]



MR. COOPER:  So we’re finally going in!

MR. HART:  Yes, this is it.  [Slowly.]  You have a boy, haven’t you, Jim?

MR. COOPER:  Two of them.  And you?

MR. HART:  One…just one.  (PAUSE.)  But he’ll go.  Yes…he’ll go.

MR. COOPER:  So will mine…both of them.

MR. HART:  It’s sort of tough, isn’t it, Jim?

MR. COOPER:  Yes, it is, tougher than I’ve thought it would be, and I’ve done a lot of thinking this last year or two.

MR. HART:  It seems a crime, sending our boys away like this and not knowing---

MR. COOPER:  Yes, that’s the worst of it---not knowing.  I wish it was me instead.

MR. HART:  And yet…well, it seems to me that it’s a job that’s simply go to be done.

MR. COOPER:  Guess it has.

MR. HART:  It’ll be the same old thing…only worse, I suppose, because there are more of them init than ever before.

MR. COOPER:  Charley, this war isn’t going to be like any other war that’s ever been fought in history of the world!

MR. HART:  No?


MR. HART:  How do you figure that?  War’s war, the way I look at it.  And I guess I have some reason to know.  I was at San Juan Hill.

MR. COOPER:  You remember seeing any airplanes at San Juan?

MR. HART:  How’s that?

MR. COOPER:  Charley, this is the 20th century and wars are fought with 20th Century weapons.  More and more they’re fighting this war with planes…planes…planes…until the sky is full of them.  Think of it—a machine that can fly a mile over your head and drop a hundred pounds of dynamite in your back yard.

MR. HART:  Yes, that’s true; I’ve been reading about those air battles.

MR. COOPER:  Mark my words; if this war’s to make the world safe for democracy, it’ll have to make it safe by way of the air.  This country is in the war now and it’ll have to build airplanes that’ll win the war.  [Fade out and in.]


DaCOSTA:  Build airplanes!  Airplanes will win the war!  Airplanes will make the world safe for democracy!  [Fade out and in.]



VOICE ONE:  But where are the factories?

VOICE TWO:  Where are the skilled workmen?

VOICE THREE:  Where the airplane mechanics and engineers?

VOICE FOUR:  And where the necessary experience in mass production?

DaCOSTA:  Build airplanes! Airplanes will win the war!

VOICE ONE:  The need was clear!  But who would answer that need?

VOICE THREE:  Who more fitted to answer than Dayton, Ohio, the birthplace of man-made wings!  [Fade out and in.]



NARRATOR:  In a downtown office building a group of officials of the newly formed Dayton Wright Airplane Company meet to formulate Dayton’s answer to the country’s need.  Foremost in the group are Orville Wright, H. E. Talbott, H. E. Talbott, Jr., Charles F. Kettering, Thomas P. Gaddis, George Mead, Carl Sherer, and G. M. Williams.  The chairman is speaking… [Fade out and in.]

CHAIRMAN:  We surveyed this part of the country for suitable facilities for manufacturing airplanes, gentlemen, and have found that the Domestic Engineering Company, which manufactures the Delco Light, as you all know, may have the answer to our problem.

TALBOTT:  You mean they have a building big enough to turn into an airplane factory?

CHAIRMAN:  It’s being built—almost finished.

GADDIS:  Where is it?

CHAIRMAN:  Just a few miles south of town—at Moraine.

MEAD:  Well, that’s part of greater Dayton.  [Laughter.]

SHERER:  How large is this plant they’re building?

CHAIRMAN:  According to my information it’s a thousand feet long and not far from two hundred feet wide.  [Ad lib.expressions of amazement.]

CHAIRMAN:  It’s to be the largest structure of its kind in Ohio.

TALBOTT:  And this plant could be taken over and used for airplane manufacture, you think?

CHAIRMAN:  In the face of the national emergency, certainly.

KETTERING:  Yes, but I question whether even a building of that size would be large enough.   After all, it’s our job not merely to put out cozens of planes a month, but hundreds!

TALBOTT:  It’s something to start with, at any rate.  How big a structure do you think we would need?

KETTERING:  I would say around 2,500 feet long and at least 200 feet wide. And we need more buildings than one!

MEAD:  Well, if this one isn’t finished, why not take it over and have it extended to our dimensions?  We could add more building units right away or later.  [Ad lib. Expressions of approval.]

VOICE:  Mr. Chairman, may I say a word?

CHAIRMAN:  Certainly.

VOICE:  I’ve been sitting here listening to you gentlemen go your optimistic way in planning to take over a building a thousand feet long, build other structures, and embark on a frenzied program of aircraft production.  But now I’d like to ask a few questions.  Where are you going to get linen for wings?  Where’s the spruce for struts and wing frames coming from?  Where are you going to find engineers and skilled mechanics?  [Ad lib. protests.]  What’s the matter?  Aren’t my questions in order?  Or do you gentlemen believe that the age of miracles is upon us?

KETTERING:  Let me answer that question. Mr. Chairman.

CHAIRMAN:  All right, Mr. Kettering.

KETTERING:  I’d say we are in the age of miracles, or, if we aren’t we’d better get there over night.  No one in this room is any more conscious of production troubles than I am.  But this job has GOT to be done.  Of course, we have to find wing fabric and spruce and engines…and a hundred other things we haven’t even thought of yet.  And the point is, we’ve got to find them right away.  If you men think you’ve seen production speed before, wait until you see what we’ll have to do at Moraine.  [Pause.]  The need is great; if it takes miracle to supply that need, then I say that these are times when we must PERFORM miracles!  Miracle or not, we must build airplanes!  Airplanes will win this war!  [Applause and fade.]

DaCOSTA:  Build airplanes!  Airplanes will win the war!

VOICE ONE:  Where was the linen for the wings?  It came.

VOICE TWO:  Where was the oil for lubrication?  It came.

VOICE THREE:  Where was the spruce for the frameworks?  It came.

VOICE FOUR:  Where the engineers…the mechanics and technicians? They came—seven thousand of them!

DaCOSTA:  And the city of Dayton saw a miracle—the miracle of organization!  [Industry noises fade in and behind following.]

VOICE ONE:  July 1917, The Dayton Wright Airplane Company is incorporated.

VOICE TWO:  March, 1918; five hundred training ships roll from the assembly lines.

VOICE THREE:  July, 1918; one thousand battle planes are produced!

VOICE FOUR:  October, 1918; production rate is set at a thousand battle planes per month.  [Industry sound fades out.]

DaCOSTA:  And now another need arose.  A thousand planes a month pouring from the assembly lines.  But where were new designs, new improvements, new planes to be tested?  [Sound:  Fade in crickets.]



WRIGHT:  This is the tract of land I told you about, Mr. Kettering.  It’s west of the Troy Pike and East of the Miami river and level enough to make an excellent experimental field.

KETTERING:  Who owns it, Mr. Wright?

WRIGHT:  The heirs to the Anson McCook estate.

KETTERING:  You think they’d sell?

WRIGHT:  Yes. [Slowly.]  But I don’t know that the City of Dayton would be in a position to buy it.

KETTERING:  If a private individual were to buy it—and lease it to the city—do you think it might work?

WRIGHT:  Yes—but who would?

KETTERING:  I would, and I think Colonel Deeds would.  If that’s all it takes, we’ll have the government experimental field right here in Dayton.  [Fade out and in.]



NARRATOR:  And so in the heat of war McCook Field was born.  Hangars were built, office buildings, shops and laboratories erected, and a tall fence put up around the more than 120 acres.  And behind this fence around Dayton’s McCook Field were concentrated the finest scientific minds of the country working in that country’s defense.  Then came a day in November, 1918…    [Bells, whistles, cheers.]



NEWSBOY:  [Fading in.]  Extra!  Extra!  Armistice is signed…the war’s over.  [All sound fades out.]



DaCOSTA:  The war was over! And a grateful nation, mourning those whom it had lost, turned to the hard-won fruits and uses of peace. What would that peace mean…in business and industry as well as private interests?  What would it mean to the development of the airplane?  With the pressure of war relieved, would public interest support further expenditures for aircraft experimentation?  Said Dayton’s Orville Wright—

WRIGHT:  When we entered the war we did not have in America a real fighting airplane.  Individuals could not afford to develop airplanes at their own expense and the United States, before the war, was spending comparatively nothing for that purpose.  We were fortunate in having the Allies to help us in getting designs for our first planes.  In another war we may not find an ally.  Development work cannot be done in the hubbub of actual warfare.  The expenditure of ten million dollars before the last war would have saved the hundreds of millions that had to be spent to accomplish the same result after the war had begun.  Economy demands that we keep abreast of the world in aeronautical research.

DaCOSTA:  Said J. H. Patterson of the National Cash Register Company—

PATTERSON:  Industry progress in proportion to the research work done.  Private industries cannot afford to carry on extensive research work because of the small market for airplanes.  The remarkable progress that has been made in aviation should be continued.

DaCOSTA:  Said the man on the street in Dayton—

MR. COOPER:  What do you make of all this talk about Congress appropriating more money for airplane development?  We can’t use fighting planes now.  It looks sort of wasteful to me after the six hundred million dollars we spent during the war.  That’s a lot of money.

MR. HART:  It sure is.  But this country should lead the whole world in air experiments, and if we don’t spend the necessary money we may find ourselves trailing everyone else instead.  Congress should be talking about appropriating more money—not less.

MR COOPER:  More?  Do you think they’ll appropriate any?

MR. HART:  Some—sure—but not enough.  What I’m mainly worried about, though, is keeping the center of future aviation development in Dayton.

MR. COOPER:  It’s here now—right out at McCook Field.

MR. HART:  But it won’t stay there.  McCook Field is too small; too small for the bigger ships that will have to be flown and for the rest of the experimental work.   It will take a big field—a really big one—not just an overgrown pasture like McCook.

MR. COOPER:  All right—if congress appropriates the money, they can build a bigger field here, can’t they?  There’s lots of level ground around here.

MR. HART:  There’s lots of level ground in other places besides Dayton.  And if some other city raises money to pay part of the cost of a field, that will cut a lot of ice in Washington.

MR. COOPER:  I don’t know.  What with the cost of the conservancy dams, and all, I think it would be pretty hard to raise money for a gift of land to the government.

MR. HART:  Sure, it will be hard, but maybe not as hard as you think.  In the end, Dayton has always raised money for things that were really worthwhile.  [Fade out and in.]



NARRATOR:  The appropriation in Congress was passed—four million, two hundred and forty thousand dollars—and to the city of Dayton once again came a challenge—could it supply a new field which could be dedicated to the cause of experimental flying?  Would the city meet this test of civic loyalty and national pride?



VOICE ONE:  The answer was—yes!  And today Wright field stands as a living monument to the civic spirit and vision of Daytonians.  Wright Field—foremost in aeronautical research in the entire world!

VOICE TWO:  The roster of those civic leaders in the movement that led to the creation of Wright Field is long—it includes such names as Frederick B. Patterson, Frederick H. Rike, Ezra M. Kuhns, W. M. Brock, W. R. Craven, Valentine Winters, H. H. Darst.  I. G. Kumler, Col. Frank T. Huffman, Col. E. A. Deeds, G. W. Shroyer, F. J. Ach, J. C. Haswell. H. W. Karr, Edward Wuichet, George B. smith, H. D. Wehrley, John F. Ahlers, C. E. Comer—and many, many others.



NARRATOR:  It was truly a great day in Dayton when it was learned at the final count of contributions to the fund that the subscriptions had gone over the top.  In the words of F.B. Patterson, telegraphed to Major-General Mason M. Patrick, Chief of the United States air Service:  [Telegraph key in background of next speech only.]

VOICE:  [Reading telegram.]  Our public-spirited citizens today subscribed sufficient money to buy the new site for the government’s aviation experimental field on the eastern boundary of Dayton.  Enough money was raised to pay for the five thousand acres in the proposed gift and a sufficient amount to be used as a nucleus for a memorial to the Wright Brothers. The spirit which dominated the campaign will ever mark the attitude of Dayton toward the United States Air Service.  Our citizens will always extend a hearty hand of fellowship to its members.  [Telegraph sound out.]



NARRATOR:  And only last year the memorial mentioned in the telegram was finished.  It stands on a high ridge close to Wright Field, looking down on the site of the original wooden hangar used by the Wright Brothers in their early experiments.



VOICE ONE:  And so the experimental activity of the United States Air Service did find its home in Dayton—the home of aviation itself.  And then began the years of experimentation—of young Americans daring the skies to make wings safer for all men—and each year brought new triumphs to the new science of flight.  One of the most amazing of these exploits of the air took place one pleasant day in 1919.  Master Sergeant Bottriell was walking across the wide landing field toward a plane whose motor was idling.  [Sound of idling motor.]  On his back, like a large knapsack, was a thick bundle securely fastened with wide straps—

MECHANIC:  You’re sure everything is okay now, Sergeant?  Maybe I better check it again.

BOTTRIELL:  Forget it, Frank.  You’ve checked it a dozen times already.

MECHANIC:  I know, Sergeant, but this ain’t no picnic you’re going on.  Jumping out of a plane—falling free of it without knowing whether that chute will open—giving yourself time to fall away from the plane—and then pulling that cord—it would be bad enough if it had been done thousands of times before.  But doing it for the first time!

BOTTRIELL:  You got nerves, Frank.  This chute is bound to work.  You’ve seen it work on dummies.  Are you trying to tell me that I’m not as smart as a dummy?  I’ve packed the chute myself and I know it will work.  [Motor idle up.]  Hyah, George!  She all warmed up?  Okay, Frank—give me a boost.  This chute pack makes a man heavy on his feet.  [Motor gunned once or twice.]

BOTTRIELL:  [Off.]  So long, Frank.  Watch me make a three-point landing, without a plane!  [Motor guns—plane roars down field—fades to drone and holds for long moment.]

MECHANIC:  Gee, I wish this was over.  Seems like that plane will never get the altitude he wants.

VOICE:  Seems to me he’s almost high enough.  (PAUSE.)  Look!  Isn’t he climbing out of the cock-pit now?  Look!

MECHANIC:  [Excited.]  Yeah!  He is! That’s what he’s doing.  He’s ready to jump.  I can’t look.  For Pete’s sake, tell me when it opens!

VOICE:  He’s jumped!  One—two—three—four—five---six—seven—eight—Frank!  It’s open!  It’s open!  He’s done it!  Bottriell’s done it!

DaCOSTA:  Bottriell did do it.  His was the first jump with a manually operated free type parachute, for which he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross in 1930.  And achievements of this kind continued until they became almost a commonplace at Wright Field.  In 1931—

VOICE FOUR:  Fluid segregator for automatically separating water from gasoline in aircraft developed by Sgt. Samiran at Wright Field is adopted as standard Air corps equipment.

DaCOSTA:  1932!

VOICE ONE:  First solo instrument-landing flight in history accomplished by Capt. A. F. Hegenberger.

DaCOSTA:  1933!

VOICE THREE:  Capt. Donald L. Bruner awarded Distinguished Flying Cross for his work in the development of night flying and night flying equipment.

DaCOSTA:  1934!

VOICE FOUR:  Maj. W. E. Kepner and Capt. A. W. Stevens awarded Distinguished Flying Cross for Stratosphere Flight in Balloon, Explorer I, to altitude of 60, 613 Feet!

DaCOSTA:  1935!

VOICE ONE:  Collier Trophy presented to Capt. A. F. Hegenberger for accomplishment and demonstration of successful blind landing system for airplanes.

DaCOSTA:  1936!

VOICE FOUR:  Maj. A. W. Stevens presented with McKay Trophy.

DaCOSTA:  1937!

VOICE ONE:  First automatic landing of airplane accomplished with Capt. Carl. J. Crane, Capt. G. V. Holloman, and Raymond Stout in the cockpit.

DaCOSTA:  To the drama of their accomplishments was added, more than once, stark tragedy.  That men might solve each new and intricate problem of flight—that men might build faster, safer wings—that men might penetrate the mysteries of their craft—that these things might come to be—some gave their lives, gave them freely and without fear.  Their names and memories like their deeds, live brightly in the consciousness of those who still pursue the adventures and risk the hazards of the skyways.  [Music: Fades in and out.]



NARRATOR:  and now we come to our own time—to March, 1940.  Once again the full resources of our inventive genius are called to the defense of our land.  Once again, in Dayton, there is a day-and-night hum of activity as there are developed weapons of incredible power to strike against the potential enemies of our nation.  (PAUSE.)  Yes weapons are not all.  For many arms of war may be, too, the instruments of peace.  In unnumbered ways the scientific achievements of Wright Field have been turned directly to the uses of commercial aviation.  The giant passenger planes which fly by day and night, in fair weather and foul, are guided, controlled and perfected at Dayton.  (PAUSE.)  Let’s see a few of these.  Let’s visit the Dayton Municipal Airport on any average day and see these things in actual operation.  We accompany a father and his young son.  [Fade out and in.]



FATHER:  Excited, son?

BOY:  Gee, yes!  Any kid would be on his first airplane trip.

FATHER:  I know how you feel—felt the same way myself my first trip.

BOY:  Yeah—but this is old stuff to you now.  You must have flown hundreds of times on these business trips of yours.

FATHER:  Anything as fascinating as this doesn’t get to be old stuff.

VOICE ON PUBLIC ADDRESS:  Attention, please!  TWA Fight 74, the Sky Lark, now loading at Gate 1 for immediate departure for Detroit.  Kindly give your name to your hostess, Miss smith, as you board the plane.

BOY:  Gee, the plane’s big, Dad.  It doesn’t look anywhere near that big when it’s in the air.

FATHER:  That’s because they fly so high—maybe several thousand feet.  Here comes the Captain and first officer.

BOY:  What are they doing?

FATHER:  They’re going to the weather room over there in the corner—where it says “Quiet” on the door.

BOY:  what happens in there?

FATHER:  That’s where they find out about the weather they’re flying into.  It’s like this---[Fade out and in on clatter of teletype machines.]

CAPTAIN:  Sing the weather out to me while I sign this flight clearance, will you, Mitch?

FIRST OFFICER:  Sure thing.  Scattered clouds at 2200; visibility, good, light smoke at fifteen hundred; temperature 36; dew point 25; wind west 12; barometer thirty-thirteen.  [Fade out teletypes.]

FATHER:  [Fading in.]  You see, Jim, those weather reports come in on the teletype machines from all parts of the United States from weather stations of the Civil Aeronautics Authority.  By the time they’ve finished clicking out a weather report, there isn’t much left to guess about.

BOY:  Isn’t it about time for our plane to get here?  I can hardly wait.  What time will it be here, Dad?

FATHER:  At eight-fifty.  That’s about seven minutes. That means that the radio operator in the airline radio room over there has been talking back and forth to the pilot of our plane for more than three minutes.

BOY:  You mean they talk to each other even before the plane’s in sight!

FATHER:  Yes—long before that.  Why, if we went into that room right now, there’d probably be something like this happening—[Fade out and in on teletype background.]

VOICE:  [From speaker.]  Flight 30 to Dayton!

OPERATOR:  [Normal voice.]  Dayton to Flight 30.  Go ahead.

VOICE:  [From speaker.]  Over Troy, 11:14 A. M.  1500.  Estimated Dayton 11:22.  Temperature 15.  Dayton Altimeter 30.21. Wind, west-northwest 12.

VOICE:  [From speaker.]  Changing over to work the tower.  Flight 30.

OPERATOR:  Okay—Flight 30 over Troy changing over to work the tower.  Dayton.  [Fade out and in.]

BOY:  Changing over to work the tower!  What did the pilot mean by that?

FATHER:  Well, it’s like this.  There is an airport control tower and an airplane radio room.  During his flight the pilot is in contact with the airline radio room.  But when he gets within three minutes or so of the airport he switches over to the airport control tower, which issues him specific directions as to how he is to land and whether or not he must wait until some other ship lands or takes off.  Now, if we were up in the airport control tower we would probably hear that same pilot getting his instructions.  [Fade out and in.  Sound of static.]

VOICE:  [From speaker.]  Dayton control from Flight 30 over Troy at 1500 feet, descending.  Go ahead.

GROUND CONTROL:  [Normal voice.]  TWA Flight 30 from Dayton Tower over Troy 1500 descending.  You are cleared to the field to land northwest.  The surface wind is northwest 20.  Variable west-northwest light gusts.  Local traffic about the field landing off the runways.  You are Number One to land.

CAPTAIN:  Okay, we are cleared to the field to land northwest.  The surface wind northwest 20 with light gusts and Okay for traffic.

GROUND CONTROL:  TWA from Dayton Tower.  We have you in sight now.  Two or three miles northwest of the field and it will be all clear for your landing.  The surface wind the same, local traffic now on the ground and your Flight 74 just called in over the City of Dayton.  He will follow you in.  [Fade out and in.]

FATHER:  And that’s how they operate from the airport control tower to land the plane.

BOY:  Gosh!  Flying sure is something, isn’t it, Dad?  It—it almost makes you think you’re dreaming, doesn’t it?  [Music in softly.]



NARRATOR:  Yes, modern flying almost makes you think you’re dreaming, because flying itself is a dream of the centuries come true.  Sometimes men dream dreams like that—but only once in centuries does a dream come true as this one has—this dream made real in Dayton, Ohio—the home of men with wings.  [Theme up and fade to background on cue.]



ANNOUNCER:  You have heard “Home of Aviation,” another chapter in the radio biography of a great American city, presented by The Dayton Power and Light Company.  Through the years that have seen Dayton grow from a village to one of the nation’s leading cities, The Dayton Power and Light Company has taken pride in its work of supplying natural gas, electric light and power and city steam to the homes, businesses and industries of the city.  As an integral part of this community our sponsors take pleasure in recreating for you these dramatic episodes of the city’s past—with their promise of still greater days for the Dayton of the future.  (PAUSE.)  These programs originate in the auditorium of the Dayton Art Institute, where a large guest audience assembles each Sunday afternoon to see as well as hear a “Great Days in Dayton” broadcast.  We shall be glad to have you, your family and your friends as members of that audience.  Tickets are free, and may be obtained at the ground-floor office of the Gas and Electric Building, 25 North Main Street.  (PAUSE.)  All dramatic parts in these productions are played by members of the Dayton Civic Theatre professional company.  Your narrator was Charles McLean.  Your announcer is Morton DaCosta.  We extend to you a cordial invitation to listen again next Sunday afternoon at 5:00 o’clock, over Station WHIO for our next presentation of “Great Days in Dayton.”  [Music and applause to end.]


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