Thanksgiving Story, 1948

In the 1940s, two of the most popular, and powerful entertainers in the country were Gene Autry and Arthur Godfrey, although the two men seemed to have little in common.

Gene Autry was best known as the ultra clean-cut singing cowboy whose primary fan base was pre-teen boys. Working for Republic Pictures, a studio renowned for B westerns, he was not the kind of cowboy who moseyed into saloons, knocked back shots of whiskey, rolled smokes, brawled and shot bad guys dead. Instead, he was the kind of cowboy who rode around on his horse, strumming his guitar, singing prairie songs. He worked hard, warned bad guys to go straight, rescued those in dire predicaments and engaged in such wholesome activities as singing around the campfire with friends or joining in barn dances. His philosophy as an entertainer was, “Make it clean, make it simple, and remember the little feller.”

In addition to the eight motion pictures he made a year for Republic, he was also big on the rodeo circuit and he had a popular radio program, which followed a similar format to his movies. The radio show was sponsored by Wrigley’s Spearmint Gum, which he personally endorsed, a common advertising practice at the time. In real life, Gene Autry was almost as wholesome as his character. He was faithful to his wife, he didn’t smoke and he seldom drank. He admitted what he presented was corny and he was proud of it, as it made him millions.

Arthur Godfrey’s primary audience was adults who by the millions were enchanted with his folksy style on his talk-variety show on CBS Radio. At a time when radio was king and television was just coming out of the laboratory, Godfrey was one of the most listened-to and beloved men in America — although that popularity would tank later on as he became known for on-air firings, public feuds with other entertainers and overall arrogance. 

Godfrey’s success before all that went down was said to be due to his (seemingly) honest personality and the spontaneity of his program. He proved to be a great asset to advertisers, who clamored to be on his show both for the exposure and his convincing delivery of their sales pitches. 

He most famously advertised Chesterfield cigarettes at a time when tobacco advertising was both legal and common on the airwaves. When he touted the benefits of smoking Chesterfields and purred “They Satisfy” with his deep, smoke-cured voice, stores would sell out their supplies of Chesterfields within hours of his broadcast.

When Gene Autry and Arthur Godfrey teamed up for a star-studded Thanksgiving special CBS radio broadcast on November 25, 1948, the combination of sponsor endorsements and spontaneity lead to a classic faux pas in the golden age of radio.

 The singing cowboy and the folksy emcee bantered and played some songs together. Godfrey even threw in some plugs for Autry’s radio sponsor, Wrigley’s gum. Then it came time to plug his own sponsor.

“After today’s Thanksgiving dinner, it will be mighty nice to light up a Chesterfield. And then, to make it taste better, chew a stick of Wrigley’s,” Godfrey suggested. “Isn’t that right, Gene?”

Responded the non-smoking Autry in his Texas drawl, “Yes, there’s nothing like sitting back and chewing on a Chesterfield.” The studio audience laughed. “I don’t mean that. I mean sitting back and chewing a stick of Wrigley and lighting up a Lucky,” referring to another brand of cancer sticks. 

Godfrey was taken back for a moment, but then retorted, “Happy Beechnut to you too!” as the audience laughed uproariously. 

CBS, to their credit, did not edit the program when it was rebroadcast later for the Pacific and Mountain Time zones.

Sources:
“It Is Corn But They Ask For It” by Howard Sharpe, Liberty, September 6, 1941
“America’s Man Godfrey,” by Jonathan Kilbourn, Look, February 1, 1949
“Light Up, Chew Up, Tangle Up—Godfrey and Autry both snafu” Minneapolis Morning Tribune, November 25, 1948

What Goes Best With a Hot Dog?

"What goes best with a HOT DOG? Right...Beer or ale the way you like it...in those easy-to-open CAP-SEALED CANS!"

In the summer of 1940, a war was going on somewhere in Europe, and there was talk of some mad man taking over countries and slaughtering millions. But far away in the heartland of America, the main concern was rolling out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer. Those days of soda and pretzels and especially beer. And Continental Can Company wanted to convince people that their Cap-Sealed (cone top) beer can fit best with summertime activity.

The year before, six and a half million of the 30 million cases of canned beer sold had been consumed in July and August alone. With a recovering economy, all indications were that 1940 would be the biggest season yet, and the brewing and beer can industries were gearing up to meet the expected demand. For Continental and the 83 breweries using cone tops, it was a matter of convincing consumers that theirs was the superior package.

Continental embarked on an aggressive print advertising campaign, paid for through a cooperative arrangement with those brewers and beer distributors using their Cap-Sealed cans. Lively two-page spreads ran in popular magazines such as Life, Collier's and Liberty, featuring people having fun and discovering for themselves the advantages of the Cap-Sealed can.

There were nine spreads in all, pointing out the convenience of taking the can along for picnics, outings, cook-outs, parties and other occasions, stressing that no special opener was needed, unlike other types of beer cans that required a "church-key" opener ("opens just like a bottle"). You could drink from a "clean, cap-protected surface," and there were no empties to return. No environmental regulations, either.Once you consumed the contents, you could simply throw the can into the outhouse pit, sink it in the lake, toss it into the campfire or add it to a pile somewhere, where excited collectors could find it decades later. One of the ads depicted a young man, with his sweetheart, letting his empty float away in a stream.

Continental put a considerable amount of market research into the campaign. They sent their men out to beer distributors and beer drinkers across the country to get their views on the package and how to market it. When asked, 2,032 distributors said they preferred the Cap-Sealed can to the flat top can. Only 102 chose the flat top, and 232 had no opinion. With flat tops, distributors had to handle the special openers, thus making the cone top more desirable. In addition, in nearly every survey taken, two out of three beer drinkers said they preferred the cone top.

The distributors and brewers were enthusiastic about the summer ad campaign and the local sales promotion that was given to them in their own territories, and they told Continental that the combination helped build package sales and volume.

The campaign paid off handsomely. In the first eight months of 1940, the distributors were reporting sales overwhelmingly ahead of those in all of 1939. The year 1941 also saw banner sales (until the U. S. entrance in the war put canned beer on hold). After the war, the Cap-Sealed can was eventually phased out, ending up being regulated mostly to automotive additives, and even those eventually went to plastic bottles. You can't buy anything in cone tops anymore, unfortunately.

But imagine for just one moment that it's the summer of 1940 once again. A beautiful day, kind of humid, but there's a nice breeze. The women are setting out food and talking, the men are playing a friendly game of baseball, the children are running abound. You get yourself an ice-cold cone-top can of beer, grab the opener and pry off the cap. Shhhhlock. A little bit of foam rises. You bring the metal surface to your lips and swallow down the wonderful liquid refreshment. Ahhh!.

Meanwhile, a war rages on in the rest of the world.

7-Up Folklore

While it's no longer the case, in the Twentieth Century, 7-Up was a major soft drink brand, for a time the largest-selling non-cola (or Uncola) soft drink. With its crisp carbonated lemon-lime flavor it was a refreshing drink and popular mixer with hard liquor, and its advertising almost rivaled Coca-Cola's in its volume, with ads appearing in major magazines, TV and radio, and on signage outside of diners and ma-and-pa corner stores across the United States and foreign lands. There was also a lot of folklore that surrounded the soda-pop that came in the emerald-green bottles. For instance, there's a story of how 7-Up was able to put out a cooking fire and baste hams at the same time.

The alleged account appeared in the October 2, 1946 issue of the 7-Up Refresher, a newsletter for a group of Midwestern 7 Up bottlers, supposedly recounting a conversation between women in a beauty parlor after a fire truck went by. According to the short piece, one of the women told this story:

"During the holidays we were cooking several hams on top of the stove. Somehow or other the flame from the gas jet ignited the grease on the ham, and in an instant all the hams were ablaze. Flames were shooting up in an alarming way and we all were running around hysterically. Someone phoned the fire department but it looked as though the whole kitchen would be [on] fire before the firemen came.

"There happened to be a case of 7-UP on the floor. My nephew grabbed a bottle, pulled the cap, shook it with his thumb over the top and then squirted the stream of 7-UP at the burning hams. It blanketed the blaze and soon everyone had a bottle of 7-UP squirting at the hams. When the fire department arrived, the fire was all out and the hams were cooking away unharmed.

"You know, far from doing any damage, the 7-UP improved the flavor of the ham--it's the finest basting we ever had for them. Plain water would have ruined them all and probably wouldn't have put out the fire either. I always have said that one bottle of 7-UP is worth a gallon of water!"

On the same page was this unrelated anecdote:

"Little Johnnie was taking his third grade spelling the other day and was asked to spell the word straight. He spelled out s-t-r-a-i-g-h-t. The teacher pronounced the word as being correct and then asked the meaning of the word.

"Johnnie answered: 'Without 7-UP.'"