By Helen Hill Helen Remembers: The Talent Show The show lasted only a half-hour and you had to wait until the next Sunday to find out who won. Viewers would send in 3 x 5 inch postcards with their votes; the cards were counted; and the lucky winner would be announced the following week. We never knew anybody personally who was on the show, but we all knew in our hearts that somebody like the lovely Lennon Sisters could be discovered any week. the other school, but we were determined to speak with them at swimming lessons the following summer. I got a call from my friend Darlene the other day telling me that Community Auditions was once again on television. Does anybody remember one of the longest running TV shows in history? It ran for 37 years on a local Boston station, and we were glued to the television set every Sunday morning all through the ’60s for this talent show hosted by Gene Burns (and later by Dave Maynard). The set was cheesy, the performers were sometimes so bad they were good, but we liked it because it was local and the contestants were just like you and I. Thinking back, I can see the accordion player or singer or dancer walking onto the stage and proceeding forward to the appointed spot before the black and white camera. A bare sign announcing Community Auditions hung behind him and you’d see the nervous look to left or right for the prompt to start. The only accompanist was a piano. There were usually six or eight performers who would come out at the end joining hands with the host in the middle singing “Star of the Day, who will it be... talent rare…to compare…with the Star of the Day.” At the very end everybody would sing, “Who will be Star of the Day?” and all at once point to the studio audience. The audience selected the winner There was a master of ceremonies who came out between acts to introduce the performers and to make announcements about upcoming pancake breakfasts and military whist parties. He was dressed with a red sport coat and grey trousers and shiny black shoes. My girlfriend and I thought he was about the most sophisticated person we had ever seen. The show lasted about an hour and a half and included a 15-minute intermission. At the very end, the audience got to choose the winner. One by one, the contestants came through the curtains and we would applaud. The performers would move to one side or the other to make room for the next group. The one who got the loudest cheers would be the winner. Well, as you would imagine, the judges couldn’t distinguish the loudness of clapping and cheering for the three best acts. The others were dismissed and the two with the bicycle, the clarinet player and a tap dancer with glittery batons came to stage front. Everybody had a favorite. The MC gestured to the right toward our clarinet player and we politely clapped a little. The tapping baton twirler got a little more. But the two girls singing “Daisy, Daisy” got the cheers of their lifetime. They won $50 and the other two contestants won smaller amounts. That was a week’s pay for many people in those days. We were very glad for the winners. I think about how small community events meant so much to us back in the ’50s and ’60s. They brought a little light into our quiet lives and we really appreciated them. There are no more talent shows today, but I find myself still going to church suppers and fundraisers for the local library. And I like the sense of camaraderie and community spirit I still get from bumping elbows with my neighbors. There’s a pancake breakfast next weekend hosted by the Cub Scouts. I think I’ll be there bright and early just as it opens. Questions for Helen H. Hill can be emailed to helenhhill@att. net or mailed to Helen H. Hill, New England Antiques Journal, 24 Water Street, Palmer, MA 01069. Return of photos or other submissions cannot be guaranteed. A talent show in the church hall One of the activities I attended when I was around 12 or 13 years old was a talent show that the Women’s Club hosted downstairs in the church hall. The place used to be a dark and dingy basement and was newly renovated with state-of-the-art knotty pine paneling, acoustic ceiling tiles and recessed lighting. The appliances in the kitchen were turquoise and we all thought ourselves very modern as we reviewed the rows of folding chairs facing the double swinging kitchen doors. Somebody had rigged some kind of curtain in front of the doors from which all of the performers would emerge into the spotlight set up behind us. We selected our seats and dad went up to get us some popcorn to nibble while we watched the show. My guess is that it cost something like 10 cents per bag. We were excited because not only were adults performing, but some of our school chums were competing as well. I remember the first contestant as if it were yesterday. The curtain parted and two high school girls came out in Victorian costume. They were sisters of somebody we knew in school. One was dressed in a man’s suit with a false moustache and the other in baloney curls, hair ribbons and frilly long skirt. The two were walking one of those old-fashioned bicycles with the big front wheel back and forth slowly as they sang the duet, “Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do.” They didn’t have a bicycle built for two, but who cared? We clapped and cheered like we were at the county fair. There were other singers, one, a classmate of ours singing an inspirational song the nuns rehearsed with her; somebody played the clarinet; and I remember two grown men doing a clown act. The whole eighth grade class sang two numbers. There was a guy doing magic tricks and a little dog who could jump over barrels and three girls our age doing the Irish jig. We didn’t know them very well because they went to Daisy, Daisy give me your answer do. I’m half crazy all for the love of you. It won’t be a stylish marriage, I can’t afford a carriage. But you’ll look sweet, Upon the seat, Of a bicycle made for two. Michael, Michael, here is your answer true. I’m not crazy all for the love of you. There won’t be any marriage, If you can’t afford a carriage. ’Cause I’ll be switched, If I get hitched, On a bicycle built for two!” Photo Courtesy of Swann Auction Galleries. “Let me tell you what I think of bicycling,” Miss Anthony said, leaning forward and laying a slender hand on my arm. “I think it has done more to emancipate women than anything else in the world. I stand and rejoice every time I see a woman ride by on a wheel. It gives woman a feeling of freedom and self-reliance. It makes her feel as if she were independent. The moment she takes her seat she knows she can’t get into harm unless she gets off her bicycle, and away she goes, the picture of free, untrammeled womanhood.” Susan B. Anthony, interviewed by Nellie Bly, New York World, February 2, 1896 www.northeastantiques.com “ Murphy Insurance has always been there for us. They’re competitive, and more importantly, their service and claims support is outstanding.” Page 10, Northeast Antiques, January 2010 www.northeastantiques.com