The Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show

January 12, 2002

Walter Tetley was truly at his ZENITH………..and in his heyday, between his work in The Great Gildersleeve and The Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show. Doubtless there is even more radio work that he did (in the 40s and the 50s) that we do not know about. As a radio entertainer he ECLIPSED, by far, all the other work that he did………..not just his cartoon work but even his movies (in which he played a physical, on-camera actor).

After listening to roughly 55 episodes from The Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show (thanks to the generosity of one of our readers from the Walter Tetley Web Page) and about 180 episodes of The Great Gildersleeve, it is now even more crystal clear to me what one of our other readers was trying to tell me, many months ago: Peabody’s Improbable History only scratched the surface of Walter’s work as a performer. I have taken great strides to understand Walter Tetley better through all these radio episodes provided to us by our friends. In doing so, I find him to be much less the “great enigma” that he always was for me.

To borrow an expression from Joan Rivers (in one of her own autobiographies), Walter was WHITE HOT at this time!! Of course, to keep this all in perspective, he was WHITE HOT as far as supporting actor roles or character actor roles go. Even when he played teenage grocery boy Julius Abruzzio in The Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show, he appeared to be relatively limited with what he could do with his voice; thus explaining in part why he rarely played the title or starring role.

Though Julius Abruzzio seemed much more mature and savvy; much more like a man, he still had a very high-pitched voice. From what I have read, Julius was probably about 17 or 18 years old (at least 16, because he did drive a truck). I have not met very many 16 to 18-year-old men with a voice as high as Tetley’s Abruzzio. Julius sounded very similar to Leroy Forrester from The Great Gildersleeve. There were a few differences however (and not just the fact that Julius was more mature). Tetley’s Abruzzio character often spoke with a heavy Brooklyn accent. Walter did a very good job with that; the accent was very entertaining. I was not too surprised about that, however; there were a few times when his Leroy character slipped up, and let out a mild New York Jewish accent. Since Walter Tetley was born in New York City, it was probably second nature for him to speak like a Brooklynite.

There seemed to be some variations in Walter’s rendition of Julius. Sometimes he laid this dialect on, really thick and heavy. Other times he delivered his lines with only a subtle hint of Brooklyn. Sometimes he spoke in everyday speech patterns; much like an Everyman. Other times he appeared to take on the character of a young “hood” or gang member from Westside Story. When he would utter sentences such as “me truck” or “me’s arms” instead of “my truck” and “my arms”, I wondered if the producers of The Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show were going for a more “rough around the edges” image for Julius (it must have been a breath of fresh air for him to portray someone who was a little less puerile and innocent for a change). In another episode, in keeping with this same brand of nearly broken English, he threatened Phil Harris and his best friend Frankie Remly with the question:

“You want I should call the cops?!?……..”

Julius was also allowed so much more to vent his anger, even rage, that was bottled up inside him (unlike Little Leroy). There were times when Julius screamed out his wrath, in a voice that was nearly manic!! Of course most of this rage came out when he was the target of Phil Harris and Frankie’s cruel and ghastly maneuvers! Most of the time, the schemes that Phil and Frankie cooked up were not meant as practical jokes. Usually the two of them were in a very bad scrape and needed a way out………….and Julius became their “meal ticket”, or “fat pigeon”, if you will.

On rare occasions he willingly agreed to help them out. More than half the time they had to con him, so that he unwittingly was roped into becoming a spoke in their “greasy wheel!” Even when he did agree to help these two conniving villains, it usually was only because they “had him over a barrel” (they either threatened him with blackmail, or they had something that he really needed or wanted). Julius often found himself sucked into their funnel of chaos, right after he uttered the words:

“Hey anybody home?………..I got groceries here!!………..”

Julius’ timing was uncanny!! He always just happened to show up with groceries, at a moment that was perfect for him to play right into Phil and Frankie’s hands! If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn that Phil and Frankie were vultures, laying in ambush for Julius, just when they needed him. Many times Julius knew right away that his goose was cooked, when one of these fellows would say to him abruptly:

“Hey, Julius………C’mere!!………….”

“I don’t wanna!…………….”, he would usually say. Almost invariably, however, he would play right into their hands.

If all of this sounds too terrible to be funny, relax………..the tone of these episodes really was quite conducive to laughter! More often than not it was tit for tat, as Julius usually had the opportunity to get even in one way or another. With that being said, hopefully you will not be too chagrined to read a few examples of some of the more diabolical webs that Phil and Frankie weaved (with Julius as their little fly). Now for a few examples of what the teenage Abruzzio had to endure:

The Walled-in Bed:

On one occasion Phil undertook the hair-brained experiment of trying to prove to Frankie, that someone could get caught in a walled-in bed and not suffocate (though why he wanted to prove this is a mystery to me!). Once again, Julius Abruzzio just happened to show up, right when they were arguing over this. Abruzzio vehemently protested that he would have no part of this experiment. He said:

“You couldn’t get me into that bed unless you gave me $1,000,000!!”

“Well here’s $2.00 as a down payment!”, Frankie Remly said; “You’ll get the rest after you suffocate!!”

Though Harris and Remly finally gave up on any cooperation from Abruzzio, they ironically got their wish anyway, BY ACCIDENT!! They asked Julius if he would pull a lever which would fold the bed back up into the wall. The teenager saw no harm in that. Unfortunately for him, he just happened to get caught up in the bed when it swung back into the wall!! While he was screaming in muffled cries to be let out of the wall, Remly was saying:

“Well, let’s just wait and see how many minutes he can actually stay there without breathing!!”

The New Drug:

The sponsor for The Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show was Rexall Drugs. Phil decided to try to invent a new drug for the show’s sponsor and of course Frankie, being his best friend, got involved. The two buddies were afraid to try the first taste of this drug. Once again, you could set the sundial to their luck!!……….Julius was there, right when they needed him. They grabbed a hold of him, right after they asked him if he would help them test their drug, and he shouted:

“Hey!!……….Get your clammy meat hooks off me!!”

“Oh, c’mon, Julius!”, Frankie Remly said to him; “What’s the worst thing that could happen to you?”

“I could drop dead!!!”, Abruzzio said.

“Yeah, but besides that??……….”, Remly countered.

Then they tried to pour the drug down his throat anyway, but they missed! A huge explosion erupted! When the smoke cleared, only Harris and Remly were in sight! For a few moments they thought they had killed Abruzzio………but then, he came out of his hiding place (he had ducked under a cot in the garage, where they were doing this experiment). He screamed at them:

“Wait’ll I tell my old man that you tried to make an active volcano out of me!!”

The Mailbox:

In this episode, Phil and Alice Faye were trying to play matchmaker for Frankie. They wanted to set the eternal bachelor, Frankie, up with a woman, so he would possibly “get hitched” and have less time on his hands to bother them. It just so happened that the lady in question was Julius’ aunt. To keep Julius from interfering, since they knew that he hated them, they picked him up and stuffed him in a big mailbox (the larger U.S. Mail variety, of course). They did not worry at all about ever getting him out of that box. He got out himself and was fit to be tied! He smashed through one of the Harrises’ living room windows right while his aunt was in their house, and Frankie was trying to woo her. He screamed at them:

“Wait’ll my old man hears about this!!!…………You want I should call the cops?!?………….I’ll tell you how I got out of that mailbox!!……..No stamps!!!………”

Assault Charge:

On one show, Phil Harris was slated to appear in court over a physical altercation that he got involved in at a supermarket. Frankie Remly was also to be charged in this same suit. Julius was on the witness list. He was also expected to answer some questions about Phil and Frankie’s character. Harris and Remly went to Julius’ supermarket, and tried to reason with him, hoping that he would not say anything detrimental. When Julius refused them, these two buddies actually seriously entertained the thought of murdering him!!………….at least for a few fleeting moments they pondered over that possibility. Phil and Frankie discussed among themselves about maybe sneaking up behind Julius, binding him, and then throwing him into the meat freezer! Unfortunately Julius heard all that, and he screamed at them:

“Just wait til the “D.A. hears from me now!!!!……….”

Abruzzio himself “had his own day in court” (figuratively speaking) when he made Harris and Remly pay dearly for their deviant maltreatment of him.

Probably one of the funniest episodes had to do with the circus:

The Circus:

Phil and Frankie somehow lost their tickets to get into the circus. Their family and friends were already seated inside and watching the show. They knew that Julius was helping the circus out that day (he was cleaning the lions’ cage while these lions were under the big top). They tried to convince Abruzzio to sneak them on in without their tickets. Why Harris and Remly ever agreed to Julius’ plan is probably a mystery to most people!!

Julius just happened to have access to a big lion’s suit………..He talked Phil and Frankie into reluctantly getting into that suit! He next talked them into going through a trap door, which they thought was a secret passage to the circus. Well, it was!……….but they had no idea that that trap door led to a live circus show, that was going on right then!!………..They unwittingly became part of the main attraction, with a bunch of hungry lions as their co-stars!! The lion suit was apparently so very good that it fooled everybody: the circus ring leader, the spectators, and even the lions!! So poor Phil and Frankie were forced to hobnob with these fierce, roaring lions! Somehow they got out alive!!…………Abruzzio was no more concerned about that than Remly and Harris had been of getting him out of that mailbox………..or getting him out of that walled-in bed while he was still breathing!………….or whether or not he survived their homemade concoction of a new drug!…………

Though I meant to say that Abruzzio had his day in court, figuratively, he also had his day in court literally, as well………..twice!!…………….as odd as it may sound, the town where Harris, Remly, and Abruzzio lived had one day a year which was designated as Boy’s Week. A teenage boy could serve as a law enforcer (or a law enforcer’s assistant, so to speak):

Mayor for a Day:

Julius had the honor of being selected as mayor for a day during Boy’s Week. Phil Harris had gotten a traffic ticket, and he tried to settle it at the mayor’s office that very day, because he was planning to leave on a five-day vacation. Of course, Phil was incredulous when he saw that he had to have a hearing with the teenage Abruzzio for this! For the “junior mayor” it was now PAYBACK TIME!!! He slammed down his gavel again and again, screaming: “$50.00!!” for this offense or “$50.00!!” for that offense! He even levied Phil $50.00 for disturbing the peace (when Phil broke out into song in his office—-musical numbers were always a part of this comedy show)!!

He then revoked Phil’s driver’s license! Then, when Phil thought that Frankie could drive for his vacation (Frankie was going on that same vacation, and he was in the mayor’s office at the time), Julius revoked his license too!! Then this teenage mayor really “pushed the envelope” when he actually seriously tried to revoke Phil’s marriage license (Julius was always in love with Phil’s wife, Alice Faye)!!…………..and then he tried to revoke his birth certificate!! Phil cracked that, with a stroke of his pen, Julius wiped out a record that he had ever been born!!

Judge Julius:

Doubtless Julius must have had some “meaty” credentials………Four years after he was mayor for a day (in 1949), he was then appointed co-Judge, in a court case against Harris and Remly (in 1953) in yet another Boy’s Week. Phil and Frankie were in trouble for trying to dig a tunnel underneath a street (don’t ask!!…….Just call it sheer stupidity on their part!). Of course, just as Leroy never aged on The Great Gildersleeve, Julius never aged on the Harris and Faye show. He was still only a junior or senior in high school in this later episode.

For the second time Phil and Frankie were extremely taken aback when they saw that Julius was an authority figure when they were in trouble (Frankie, by the way, was no longer being called Frankie at this point in the series. Like Phil and Alice Faye, he was now being called by his real name: Elliott Lewis).

Julius levied fine after fine after fine against Phil and “Elliott” as they tried to defend themselves in court: “$20.00 for speaking out of turn!!”………….”$20.00 for saying ‘ I object!’ !!” he would scream! The court clerk was completely supportive of Julius.

“That will be $40.00!” the clerk would call out (and we would hear the sound of a cash register ringing)!

Judge Julius really tried to push the envelope when he saw that none of his fines were challenged or overturned………..he even tried to recommend the death penalty for Phil and Elliott/Frankie!! At that point, the senior judge finally stepped in and told Julius that there were limits on the penalty that could be assessed for merely digging a tunnel under a street!

In the same vein as our previous comments on The Great Gildersleeve, we will also make some “general remarks” about this show. You’ve all heard the old adage:

“There’s someone for everyone” or “For every pot, there’s a lid”.

These proverbs are applicable far beyond the playing fields of Love and War. I would also say:

“There’s someone for every radio show” or “For every radio show, there’s a fan”.

These statements are very appropriate for our discussion. Though The Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show is not one of my favorite shows (especially when compared to The Great Gildersleeve), we have had quite a few readers on our website who have written to tell us how much they love this show. We also had quite a few readers who told us how much they love Walter Tetley as Julius Abruzzio. Several of our readers have commented on how Tetley really steals the show………..or about how he has reduced them to “tears of laughter”!

Aside from all that, I have seen the value in listening to some of these shows, merely for the deeper understanding that I have developed, vis à vis how minor a role Walter’s cartoon Sherman voice was. Though Gildersleeve was a little more fun for me to listen to, I am glad that it was not the only body of his radio work that I have listened to. Our very kind friend who sent me the Harris and Faye episodes has helped me tremendously in grasping a much more comprehensive knowledge, of Walter’s career.

In all candor, even though he had a substantially smaller role on his Harris and Faye series (than he did on The Great Gildersleeve), I really believe that Tetley had one of the very best parts on the entire show!! I truly enjoyed, listening to him, more than I enjoyed listening to Phil and Alice (or any of the other “leads” on the show). After Tetley, my next favorite actor from the show, would be Gale Gordon. He played Mr. Scott, Phil Harris’ boss. I had no idea the first few episodes that Mr. Scott was THE GALE GORDON……….the same Gordon with whom I had become familiar from The Lucy Show and Here’s Lucy. I was extremely surprised to learn later on that it was this same man who played that cantankerous and grouchy boss, Mr. Moony, who always screamed at Lucille Ball: “Mrs. Carmichael!!!” (For the record he also played a recurring character, on The Great Gildersleeve. He played one of Gildy’s neighbors, Mr. Bullard).

Probably my favorite episode with Gale Gordon’s Mr. Scott was when he reluctantly had Phil and Frankie at one of his big parties (the fact that Phil was married to Alice Faye, whom Scott as his wife adored, had a lot to do with why these two clowns were at his party). Phil and Frankie stepped away from the party for a very short time to put some lawn chairs by Mr. Scott’s pool. It seemed like a simple enough request.
Leave it to Phil and Frankie however, to complicate a very simple task!

To make a long story short, they fooled with Mr. Scott’s brand new Cadillac, and caused it to quickly roll backwards and straight into his swimming pool! If that wasn’t enough, then they tried to tow his Cadillac out of the pool by using his other car (his Lincoln)! Phil felt that his own car was too small to tow a Cadillac. So he took a chain from his own vehicle and hooked that up to the rear axle of Mr. Scott’s Lincoln. He and Frankie then assumed they were “home free.” All they had to do was connect the chain to the front of Scott’s “swimming Cadillac” and their nightmare would be over (never mind the fact that the Cadillac was probably ruined after being flooded; they weren’t even thinking of that detail then!!). Unfortunately, things just went from bad to worse……They pulled off the whole rear end of Scott’s Lincoln!!

I listened to this episode twice. The second time was after I knew that Mr. Scott was played by Gale Gordon. When Mr. Scott came outside and screamed first about his Lincoln, and second about his waterlogged Cadillac, I could really recognize the old Mr. Moony then. It sounded just like him, screaming at Lucy (I wasn’t really listening for it, the first time around).

The Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show began around the fall or winter of 1946 and it ran well into 1954. This is surely a testament to how good the show was, since it lasted that long into the era of TV. By 1954, of course, “Uncle Miltie Berle” had already been around for roughly six years in his own TV series. Milton Berle has always been credited as the guy who helped sell a ton of TV sets.

One interesting fact that I learned on Phil Harris as I read about the show: for those of us who are baby boomers, we will surely remember the Walt Disney movie, The Jungle Book. Harris played the voice of animated Baloo, the Bear. If that wasn’t the top role in that cartoon, it was at least # 2. Who could ever forget that song, that he sang?:

“Look for the……….Bear Necessities, the simple Bear Necessities………Forget about your worries and your strife! I mean the………Bear Necessities of Mother Nature’s recipes that bring the Bear Necessities of life!”

Or also from that same song the lines:

“The bees are buzzing in the trees to make some honey just for me!………..When you look under the rocks and plants, and take a glance………..at the fancy ants, and maybe……..try a few!!………..”

Now for some of the differences between the Harris and Faye series and the Gildersleeve series (and an explanation, in at least some instances, why I liked the Gildersleeve series better). Unlike Harold Peary, who played a fictional character in Gildersleeve, Phil and Alice Faye played themselves. They also played themselves doing the exact same profession: the stars of their own radio show. Of course there was some fiction thrown into this reality. Phil Harris played a version of himself, which was hopefully far removed from the real Phil Harris.

Like Gildersleeve, Phil Harris was conceited and arrogant. He did not come off quite as lovable however (for me anyway), because the things that he was conceited about had to do with matters that I cannot relate to very well: his life as a bandleader, a singer, and an actor. In short, he was stuck on himself as a celebrity. With Gildy, however, you couldn’t help but love him, “warts and all,” because he was a simple family man. He was also very good with his nephew/son, Leroy. Gildersleeve had a very big heart, as imperfect as he was. In addition, he also had very strong convictions about what was best for his community. He was practically a pillar of Summerfield (his town), and he got involved in trying to improve this town on many an occasion. He also had quite a few very devoted friends who accepted him, despite the wind bag that he was. The ladies in his life also seemed to really dote on him with fierce loyalty, as dysfunctional as he could sometimes be. The fictional Phil Harris had a much, much more inflated ego, since he was famous.

The relationship of Phil Harris and his best friend, Frankie/Elliott, was also quite different from the relationship of Gildersleeve with his best friend (and simultaneous arch enemy) Judge Horace Hooker. Gildersleeve and Hooker were portrayed as much more intelligent. Both were college men and, of course, the judge was an elected official as well as an attorney. Gildersleeve, as the town’s Water Commissioner, was also an elected official.

Phil Harris and Frankie/Elliott often came across very similar to Ralph Kramden and Ed Norton from The Honeymooners (with Phil being like Ralph and Frankie/Elliott being like Norton). Though Phil was often quite stupid, he was nowhere near as stupid as Frankie. He would even defend Frankie before his family:

“Frankie is NOT stupid!!!………….”

As much as he defended him, Frankie even began to wear down poor Phil, at times!

Phil and Gildersleeve were both hot heads, but Phil was a little bit more of a brute than Gildy. At least Gildy had a little more class than Phil when he blew up at someone. Phil Harris seemed more ready than Gildy to get into a fist fight with someone who angered him. The fact that he often spoke with very poor grammar also contributed to making him seem like more of a brute. But giving Phil credit where credit is due, he was smarter than Gildy, in one way. When Gildy’s ego was bruised, and the angry blood rushed to his head, he “let it all out,” even if a policeman was the object of his wrath!! Harris would never get into a policeman’s face the way that Gildy was known to.

Alice Faye had a much smaller role than her husband, even though she got top billing with him. Elliott Lewis, as Frankie/Elliott, had a much meatier role. There were several episodes when Alice Faye seemed to be an afterthought. There were even some shows when Tetley’s Julius (though a bit part in the show) was a bigger role than hers. Even as a singer (and you would think that she would top her husband there), she still competed with Harris. Her husband seemed to sing just as many numbers as she. In addition, at the end of each show, when the two stars would make some closing remarks to the audience and say good night, Phil did 90% of the talking. Alice would get the last word, but, all that word would be, was:

“Yes, good night everybody!”

Alice Faye, playing herself, was most likely much less of a caricature than her husband. She always played a very classy and charming woman (though never snooty). Her character was always warm and likable. Above all, she was portrayed as a great mother figure (she came close, for me anyway, to rivaling Doris Day, who was well known for playing “Mother of the Year” types).

Alice Faye was not a doormat, however. As charming and ladylike as she could be, she could lash out at her husband, when he deserved it, with an acerbic and stinging wit………….And sometimes she lashed out with no wit at all…………but with pure, unadulterated rage!

You see……….sometimes even poor Alice got the same dosage of bitter medicine from Phil and Frankie that Julius did. Of course, with Alice it was always much more an accident that she got victimized than it was with Julius. Being the level-headed, stable, smart woman that she was, this made it all the more hilarious when she “took a beating” in one of Phil and Frankie’s schemes that backfired.

In one episode, originally aired on January 15, 1950, poor Alice Faye fell prey to Phil and Frankie’s inept ability to repair a power blower. She had already suffered quite a few terrible mishaps that show, due to the incompetence of Phil and Frankie to repair things in her home. The last thing that they tried to repair (the power blower) left her with the wind knocked out of her, and panting heavily. She had walked into the path of the blower’s wind tunnel, and found herself airborne! The sound of that blower was just like a raging tornado!! When they finally turned it off, Miss Faye screamed with the ferocity of a lion:

“Phil Harris I declare WAR on you!!!………….JUST WAIT’LL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!!!”

From 1945-1962 Alice Faye made no movies. Part of the reason why she and her spouse did the radio show was so that they could have more time for their family life. When she finally did get another role in the early 60s, she was quite sorry that she had ever returned to the silver screen. She said that it was a terrible shame what had happened to movies since her last film.

On August 11, 1995, Alice Faye lost her husband, Phil, of 54 years. He died of heart failure at the age of 91. Miss Faye joined him, nearly three years later. She died of stomach cancer, at the age of 83. Denny Jackson wrote of her in a mini biography on her IMDb filmography:

“She rose from the mean streets of New York’s Hell’s Kitchen to become the most famous singing actress in the world.”

***If you are interested in more information on the life of Alice Faye, Jane Lenz Elder has written a new biography about her. Below is a synopsis of her book.

Alice Faye: A Life Beyond the Silver Screen

by Jane Lenz Elder

Fans of vintage radio and movies need no introduction to the sweet demeanor, sultry glances, and velvety voice of Alice Faye. Her haunting rendition of “You’ll Never Know” has never been surpassed by any other singer. Her films, such as Alexander’s Ragtime Band, Tin Pan Alley, and The Gang’s All Here, remain perennial favorites on classic movie channels and at video rental outlets. Her radio show, with her husband Phil Harris, and her frequent guest appearances on the Jack Benny Show, live on in the cassette collections popular with radio devotees.

Now for the first time, fans of the fabulous Faye can enjoy a full-scale biography of the beloved star. Four years in the making, Alice Faye: A Life Beyond the Silver Screen, is being published by the University of Mississippi Press (available in October) as part of its Hollywood Legends series. Film historian Jane Lenz Elder conducted interviews with Alice’s friends and family, consulted leading oral history collections, and dug through archives in California, New York, and Linton, Indiana (home to the Phil Harris-Alice Faye Collection), to create the most compelling, comprehensive, and accurate depiction of Faye’s life yet published.

Beginning life in the Hell’s Kitchen section of New York, Alice Faye went from an adolescent chorus girl in the 1920s to one of Hollywood’s top box office draws of the 1930s and 1940s. Populating her life were such luminaries as Don Ameche, Jack Benny, Bing Crosby, Betty Grable, Jack Haley, Phil Harris, John Payne, Tyrone Power, Tony Martin, Shirley Temple, Rudy Vallée, and the ruthless studio mogul, Darryl F. Zanuck. Alice met success in the early days of broadcast radio and in Hollywood’s golden age. She also endured setbacks, scandals and, above all, the challenges of the big studio system. She faced life squarely with humor and determination, and eventually emerged as one of Hollywood’s most graceful survivors.

Alice Faye: A Life Beyond the Silver Screen by Jane Lenz Elder is a must read for any Faye fan.

6×9 inches, 256 pages 25 black & white illustrations filmography, bibliography, index ISBN 1-57806-210-1

Call 1-800-737-7788 to order toll-free

August 17, 2001

Fully realizing that this feature will only just scratch the surface, on Walter Tetley’s radio career, we humbly offer a few words, about his role in The Great Gildersleeve show, from the 40s and the 50s. Hopefully we will be revising, and editing, this article, in the near future. Thanks to two of our readers, I have had the opportunity to listen to 139 episodes from this great series. One of our readers sent me 179 episodes, between the years of 1941-1946 and a second reader sent me two episodes from the 1948 season. As you can see, at this writing, I still have 42 episodes to go. I feel, however, that I have listened to enough of this collection, to be able to make a commentary.

If you have already perused our Peabody’s Pony Express, and our Tribute to Walter Tetley, you already know quite a few things, about the different shows, that Tetley was involved in, during those “Radio Days” (Woody Allen, forgive me, for stealing one of your movie titles!). Of course, on The Great Gildersleeve, Tetley played Leroy Forrester, the juvenile nephew of the star character, Throckmorton P. Gildersleeve.

Though I have never had children, myself, I think that I almost have a grasp for what it is like to be a parent, after listening to all the grief that Leroy has given his guardian, Uncle Mort!! Walter so very masterfully created a very life-like and realistic portrait, of a twelve-year-old boy, on that show. Leroy has his very mischievous side, which is often combined with a savvy edge of humor. At the same time, Leroy is usually almost always a very good boy—–not at all like the hooligan, Julius, whom he later played on The Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show.

Leroy was often quite funny, when he repeated, time and time again, some of his own stock expressions: “ARE YOU KIDDING???” (this one really grated on Gildersleeve’s nerves!) and “OH, FOR CORN’S SAKE!!” (this one was usually said, with a groan of resignation, about something that he knew he just could not get out of). He was even funnier, when he occasionally decided to steal one of his uncle’s own lines: “OHHHHHH——–THIS IS GOING TO BE ONE OF MY B-A-A-A-AD DAYS!!!“

I do remember at least two or three episodes, when it must have been really fun, for Walter Tetley to play Leroy. One involved his Uncle Mort’s, then fiancée, Leila Ransom. Leila was determined to get Gildersleeve, to at least consider, moving into another house, after they were to marry. Even after Gildersleeve told her, that there had been a murder in that house, she still wanted him to look at this house (“Gildy” probably made that up, because he really wanted to stay in his own house). Well………when Gildersleeve and Leila, took a peek, inside that empty house (it had been empty for many years), who should be hiding, there, in a dark portion of the house, but Leroy! He let out a blood-curdling, ghostly noise, in his young, puerile voice, and succeeded in scaring Leila Ransom out of that house. Though there was no doubt, that the voice was that of a child, he still scared her!

Actually, quite a few of the funniest things that Leroy did, had to do with women, in his uncle’s life. On another show, when Gildy was trying to have a private moment, with a lady, in the front yard, Leroy kept coming out of the house, again and again, pesting his uncle about various odds and ends (including that he could not sleep!). Even after his uncle bribed him, with $2.00 in 1945 money (to not come back!) he still tormented him! After Gildersleeve sang a very beautiful solo, in his tender, baritone voice, to his lady love, his nephew’s own voice, came screeching from his bedroom window, on the second floor, as he tried to add something to his uncle’s song (Leroy was a sly one, though; he knew exactly what he was doing……..he was just trying to sabotage his uncle’s intimate moment!).

Still another episode had Leroy as the featured character. He received an invitation to a party, from a girl at school, and he absolutely refused to go (he was still in that “hatred phase” of girls!). Uncle Mort decided to get involved. Not only did he insist that Leroy go to that party; he arranged for Leroy to have a tête à tête, with the girl, at their house. As is so often the case for Gildersleeve, whenever he tries to help Leroy out, he sorely regretted that he ever got involved (though his mission was successful; he did turn Leroy on to girls)! In this episode, Walter very comically shows Leroy’s more flirtatious side, and his school-boy giggle (with which we can almost see him blushing, right through the radio—-or through the computer, in my case).

At any rate, one cannot really do Walter Tetley justice, unless one touches on some of the other characters, from this show. Though much of the rest, of what I am going to say, has nothing to do with Leroy it still cuts to the heart, of what made The Great Gildersleeve, a truly quality show. Two of my other favorite characters, especially in their relationship to each other, are Throckmorton P. Gildersleeve and Judge Horace Hooker. Gildersleeve and the Judge seem to always have a type of “Love/Hate” relationship with each other.

The Judge, with his crusty, raspy, often cranky voice, was one of the funniest characters in the cast. He was played by Earle Ross and he was one of those devoted performers who, like Walter Tetley, stayed for the entire run of the show, from 1941-1954 (some accounts state that the show ran from 1941-1958). Many of the other performers did not stay for the entire run (even Harold Peary, who held the title role, did not. He left in 1950. From then on, Gildersleeve was voiced by Willard Waterman).

Horace Hooker wore many hats, in his relationship with Gildersleeve. He was the judge who gave Gildersleeve legal custody, of Leroy and his sister, Margerie. He also served as Gildy’s attorney. In addition, they were neighbors, and became friends (though they were often simultaneously at each other’s throat!). Hooker also enjoyed engaging Gildy as a checkers partner (he also enjoyed cackling, when he took many of Gildy’s checkers, and then saying: “Now crown me!!”). And who could ever forget about how the Judge was also Gildersleeve’s campaign manager, when Gildy ran for mayor of Summerfield?

Hooker also competed with Gildersleeve, on at least one occasion, for the affections of a lady………..and the competition was not always completely nice!! He also enjoyed showing Gildy up, or making a fool out of him, in front of others. Gildy almost always got his sweet revenge, in the end, and made the Judge regret, whatever joke he had pulled! Of all the things, that the Judge did, probably the most exasperating, for Gildersleeve, was when he “conveniently” showed up, at their household, right at dinner time (and ended up being invited to the table, to feast on the labor’s of the family cook, Birdie Lee Coggins!). It was kind of curious, that a prominent member of the community, like Judge Hooker (and also a man in his sixties), would pull a stunt like that, time and again.

Suffice it to say, you could say that they got each other’s goat……..and “goat” is a very appropriate word, because that is exactly what Gildy would call Hooker, whenever he was mad at him: “YOU OLD GOAT!!”. Hooker would even laugh like a goat, thus making that epithet all the more apropos. His raspy, blaring cackle, would reverberate almost exactly like the bleat of a goat!

Hooker was not always nasty; he could actually be quite charming. Even when he was charming, however, he was almost always “full of himself” and conceited (kind of like Gildersleeve; maybe that is why they never got along, too well; their personalities were too much alike). Judge Hooker would always make me laugh, when he suddenly became dismayed, with something that Gildy had done, and his crusty, raspy voice would become quite high-pitched, as he squawked, in alarm: “WHAT???!!!???”

Hooker called Gildersleeve “Gildy”, both affectionately and scornfully. Sometimes his affection, would change to scorn, in practically the same breath. They were the best of friends and the worst of friends (to steal a line from Charles Dickens!). Perhaps their whole “Love/Hate” relationship can be traced all the way back to the first time that they met. The two of them met on a train and they really butted heads, and insulted each other profoundly. Gildersleeve would never, in a million years, guess that he would be in that same man’s courtroom, in a matter of days, for approval of his guardianship of Leroy and Margerie Forrester. What a nightmare that was, for him, when he saw who the judge was!!

As for Harold Peary’s Gildersleeve portrayal, though there were times, that he seemed a bit “cartoonish”, on the whole he was very much a flesh and blood man, and very realistic and believable. I think what I enjoyed most, about Gildersleeve (and what I laughed most about), was how quickly he became a “hot head”, when confronted with a difficult person. Gildy did not like to take anything from anyone (sometimes even if it was from a policeman!!). You could almost see that rabid, ruddy color, rising up into his face, when he would impatiently start to say: “NOWWWWWWW SEE HERE!!!” or “WHYYYYYY YOU!!!!!!!!“. He almost reminded me of a singer, who was warming up with some scales!

I also liked the monosyllabic expression of frustration, that would emit from Gildy’s mouth, whenever he suffered a jolting, harsh, rude awakening of something extremely unpleasant: “OOOOOOP!!!!“, he would gasp, with great chagrin. And every now and then, that “Ooooop!” would be accompanied with the words: “OHHHHHH, BOY!!…………THIS IS GOING TO BE ONE OF MY BA-A-A-A-AD DAYS!!!“

A few really great episodes, involving Gildy and Judge Hooker:

School Pranks:

Gildy and Judge Hooker are laughing, and reminiscing, about all the really bad, mischievous pranks, that they pulled in school, as boys. A couple times, while they are doing this, Leroy walks in the room. Then each one angrily wants to blame the other, for setting a bad example for Leroy. They also blame each other, for starting the whole conversation, about these pranks, in the first place.

Leroy’s Paper Route:

Gildy is forced to help Leroy out, with his newspaper route, on a soggy, torrentially-wet, stormy morning. Naturally it is still dark and way, way early!! All kinds of problems occur, that morning, but the worst one is when Gildersleeve throws a paper and it crashes through a window……….and that window belongs to Judge Horace Hooker!!

Jail:

Judge Hooker, and another community leader, need someone to spy on the local warden. There is talk that the warden is not running the jail properly. The Judge, and this other leader, talk Gildersleeve into getting himself arrested, on some minor charge, so that he can spy on the jail and make a report. Gildersleeve very reluctantly agrees to do this, only when the Judge insists that he will obtain a Writ of Habeas Corpus, to get him out of the jail ASAP. When Gildersleeve is in jail, it turns out that the Judge was called out of town, and will not be back for days………..

After listening to 139 episodes, of The Great Gildersleeve, in a relatively short period of time, I feel like I know the Gildersleeve/Forrester household, as if they were family (or neighbors, at least). I also feel like I know so many of the other characters, from the mythical township of Summerfield (as if they were my neighbors or friends).

I have now followed Throckmorton P. Gildersleeve, through so many things, in his life, including two broken engagements (for marriage, of course), two careers (including his more familiar career, as Water Commissioner), his campaign for mayor of Summerfield, and I have shared the holidays with him and his family, over more than one calendar year. I have also shared all the woes, and hurts, of being part of the World War II era. Hooker once said to Gildersleeve: “We’ve been through a lot, together, haven’t we, Gildy?”. I sometimes feel like I could turn to the great “Laugh King”, himself, and say the same thing.

In many ways, The Great Gildersleeve seems like a precursor to shows like The Honeymooners, The Flintstones, and even All in the Family. Though Gildersleeve was a bachelor, the one thing that he had in common, with all those shows, was that he was a fat man, often a very funny man, and he so frequently came up with hair-brained schemes that all went wrong, or blew up in his face…………and so many times, when he was left picking up the pieces, he realized that, the harder he tried to get ahead (or “fix things”), the further back he fell behind!

But enough said about the show in general. Perhaps someday, soon, we will cover some details on Walter Tetley’s stint on The Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show…………….or his work with Fred Allen, on Allen’s own radio show, when he first came to Hollywood, in the late 30s. Perhaps we may even have some things to share about Walter’s very early radio career, in New York City, where it all began for him.

We have heard from a reporter, from United Press International, who claims to be a HUGE fan of Old Time Radio. He has told us that he has thoroughly enjoyed listening to some of Walter’s work, from The Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show. He went even one step further, and said that he thought that Walter really “stole that show”! I look forward
to hearing some of those episodes someday.

How very interesting that, 20-25 years before Tetley ever voiced Sherman, on Peabody’s Improbable History, he was already a child “impersonator“, even that long ago!! Even if he was still a minor (as some accounts do give his year of birth as 1923, rather than the more accepted 1915), he would still have been at an age when most boys’ voices begin to change. The more that I have read, written and learned, about Mr. Tetley, the more I believe that his life would make an extremely good and interesting, motion picture. Especially the last decade of his life.

By our Guest Columnist, Ira Cochin November 10, 2005 Walter Tetley played the part of a 10-year-old child named LeRoy Forrester on a radio show called, “The Great Gildersleeve.” Each episode was a half-hour long and was broadcast weekly from August 1941 to June 1954. Walter Tetley looked like the 10-year-old child he played. His voice had the twang of a child. His mannerisms were that of a child. He moved about and handled objects exactly as a child. If you stood close to him, you could not detect the slightest indication of a beard — not even peach fuzz. His face was as smooth as that of a child. He was “child” personified. And he sustained all these features till he was 40 years old!!!! Picture a man of 40 who had all the features of a child of 10. He was literally the Fountain of Youth. Walter Tetley was born in June 2, 1915. When I met him in 1945, he was 30 years old. He was a talented actor — particularly if he was not seen. So radio and voice-over were his expertise. He was able to convey emotional feeling using only his voice. And having the natural voice of a child, he became a much-sought performer for child parts — yes, all the way into his 40’s and beyond. Imagine a child actor who never grew old. There was no need to replace him as the years flashed by. And imagine how effectively a man of 40 could play the part of a child. And even if you studied him with a microscope, you couldn’t ever tell his age. Walter Tetley had the features of a 10 year old for more than half his life! Walter was just about the only “child” in the world who was able to convey feelings and desires perfectly using only voice and no face. So “The Great Gildersleeve” radio show was the perfect venue to showcase his talents. Was this non-aging miracle an asset? Of course — magnificently so. Picture a crowded waiting room at the casting office. Many, many wanabe actors struggle to get a part in some theatrical event — any part — no limits — no choice — any part. And they may wait months or even years. Then the casting director needs a child who can read lines immaculately. Only an adult who looks convincingly like a child gets the part. As a result, Walter appeared in over 60 films and shows. However, on the flip side of the situation, he only was given child-like roles. Thus, he was often the elevator boy, the bus boy, or a child lost in the crowd. His asset was also his liability. Then, how and why did I enter this talented man’s life? The story begins in an Army hospital in 1945 during WWII. As a soldier when I was 20, I had lost an eye. For the healing and rehabilitation process, I remained in the Army as a patient at Birmingham General Hospital in Van Nuys, California, a suburb of Los Angeles. It was a very long stay, and for diversion, I became involved in the hospital radio broadcasting system. The soldier patients broadcast a radio show twice a week. Since this was radio, without a studio audience, no one saw the performers, permitting them to read scripts, obviating the need to memorize the dialog. Various Hollywood actors and actresses volunteered to perform, and in return, our radio broadcast provided a vehicle to showcase their talents. It was of mutual benefit, a pleasant activity that provided camaraderie and fun for us all. He looked and found the following: WWII ended and peace was declared. Time for the nation to demilitarize. The military couldn’t discharge all soldiers and sailors at the same time, and employed a priority system. In the meantime, servicemen waiting for discharge could get permission from the Army Commander to be employed part time by civilian firms. But since they were still soldiers, they had to wear their soldier’s uniform, and had to report in before curfew each day. Sterling Holloway had found a way! I obtained permission from the Commanding Officer, and Sterling arranged for me to be interviewed. I was hired as a free-lance scriptwriter for “The Great Gildersleeve” radio show, and I had the job till I was discharged. But my real task was to act as liaison for Walter Tetley, and to work with him at his home in Encino California, a suburb of Los Angeles. On two occasions, Sterling Holloway performed with us. He was not spoiled by fame. He was down to Earth, and very friendly. We were rehearsing a Western, where Sterling got shot. I was the sound-effects man that day, and there was no device with which to simulate the sound of a gunshot. I tried clapping my hands, hitting the desk with a wooden yardstick, and others. None was right. Then Sterling bent down to pick up something he dropped. And I was seized with an inspiration. I whacked his behind with the yardstick, and the sound was perfect. I yelled, “I killed him!” The entire crew had a good laugh. Sterling feigned injury as he held the “wounded” area and moaned. “Trouble is that you killed me in real life. Let’s change the script to read that I was stabbed with a knife.” Sterling asked how I got into show biz. I explained. At age 10, I was a “year-round” camper at Surprise Lake Camp (for kids from destitute families). I was the youngest child at the camp, and performed stand-up comedy routines. I wrote the material myself. The camp was located across the Hudson River from the Catskills, where many rising comedy actors performed for summer vacationers in the many hotels. One such unknown actor named Daniel Kominsky, heard about Surprise Lake Camp, and hoped to get a “year-round” gig — not just for the summer. He was interviewed by the head counselor, and was rejected. While he waited for the ferry to cross back to the Catskills, I met him. I told him I was a comedian and we had a long discussion. I was delighted that a grown up was willing to talk that long with a little kid like me. He told me to call him Mr. K without the period. A year later, he send me a medallion signed, Daniel K, note K without a period. And he later used that as his stage name, Danny Kaye. In high school, when I was 15, I often had long discussions with the elderly science teachers, Mr. Max Sherrin, and Mr. Ernest Scintsen who referred to me as one of their peers. At the same time, I had written a pack of comedy skits for my English course. Odd as it sounds, I had total rapport with the teacher, an elderly woman named Mrs. Schulderfer. She said, “You’re so young, but you’re ready to mingle with the adult world.” And she gave me the name of a comedy scout who met with potential actors in front of Kellogg’s Restaurant in downtown Manhattan. I met him, and found that he overlooked my obvious very young age, and he talked to me as an adult. He held my huge pack of manuscripts as if weighing it and said, “One pound.” And he handed me $5, a lot of money in 1942, especially for a kid like me. And he stuck to that price in the years to come, coining the expression “$5 a pound for humorous skits.” He then forwarded (or sold) my material to upcoming stars in the Catskills. Wow, I was back to the Catskills! I had come full circle. I wished him a long life of success, and it came true. He was still in the funny business into his 90’s, under the name of Pal Joey — Joey Adams. “So, Mr. Holloway, that’s my background.” Sterling Holloway said, “Can I summarize? As a child, you have been constantly dealing with adults on their standards and on their terms. Tell me something; did you get along with kids your own age?” I was embarrassed and replied, “No. That’s the down side of my ability to converse with people who were so much older than I. Kids my age shunned me, and thought I was very odd.” Sterling pursed his lips and said, “Let me tell you why I asked. There’s an actor who bears the same affliction.” I interrupted, “Affliction? No, that’s my asset.” Sterling insisted, “Yes, affliction. The actor I’m thinking of plays the role of LeRoy on a radio show called, ‘The Great Gildersleeve.’ He got the part because he looks like a child. That’s his gift. But he must deal with adults. That’s his affliction. I’m sure he could use you as his liaison.” I chuckled, “Well maybe when I get discharged a year from now.” “No, he could use you now.” He pondered a while. “Can’t you get a furlough? Never mind, let me find a way.” Walter’s brother volunteered to pick me up at my Military Post, and as he drove, he asked me why I didn’t drive. I explained that I had lost an eye in service, and that I had not yet learned how to judge distance. So I was a potential hazard on the road. However, I was studying to be an engineer. We arrived at a small ranch, about 120 by 250 feet in the shape of the state of Nevada. It had a huge ranch-type house with built-in garage, a stable with two-horses, and a sizable built-in swimming pool (which was quite uncommon at that time). This was Walter Tetley’s home. Noting my Army uniform, Walter asked me to sign his guest register. He had always wanted to befriend a real soldier, and he treated me like a celebrity. He wanted to show me around the place, but his brother interrupted to tell him that I had lost one eye and was a wounded soldier. Walter immediately got me a chair, and he asked if I wanted something cool to drink. As I walked about, he ran ahead to move things out of my way. It was obvious that Walter was very sensitive to a handicapped person’s needs. I knew he wasn’t a child, but it certainly was a notable revelation to learn that the actor who played the role of ten-year-old Leroy was a thirty-year-old man. He was neither a midget nor a dwarf. He was a perfectly formed undersized man with a child’s voice, appearance, and mannerisms — with a round cherubic face. Walter and I sat poolside and we had a long conversation about show biz. We laughed at the notion that silent movies had no sound, and that radio had no picture. We rehashed a number of the old movies and old radio shows. Then he said, “I wondered what a radio show would be like if the audience could see the actors on stage. But then they couldn’t be allowed to read scripts. It would be like a movie.” He scrunched up his mouth. “That wouldn’t be any good. Radio would then be the same as movies.” He thought about that for a moment. “Movies. I was in movies. And I appeared in movies with famous stars. I asked how he felt about working with celebrities. “Being on the same sound stage with an actor that I had seen in movies was a tremendous boost for my morale. It made me want to do movies forever. But later, I changed my mind and preferred radio. But I still was in about 50 movies — bit parts, and I was told, ‘There’s no bit parts — only bit actors.’ Nice phrase, but I still continued to call them bit parts.” I asked, “How do you feel about “The Great Gildersleeve show?” He huffed, “Well that sure isn’t a bit part. How do I feel? I know I’m somebody. I just wish I could make friends with the cast. I sometimes feel like an outsider.” “Do you like reading a script instead of memorizing it?” Walter tilted his head in thought. “I never had trouble memorizing, but with a script I can do more with my voice. And in movies I never had such a large part. On this show, I don’t feel limited.” I explained, “That’s because the show is a departure from comedy show history.” “How do you mean?” I sat back and shrugged, “In the theatrical past, comedy shows consisted of a group of unrelated comic sketches — not one overall plot like a book, play or movie. The objective of such comedy shows in the past was merely a collection of jokes.” “I never noticed, but thinking back, I used to listen to all the comedy shows, and you’re right. Yes, a lot of short skits.” He thought a while. “But I thought there was a few that had a story for the whole hour. What about the Marx Brothers? And Cary Grant? I smiled, “Those were movies.” He chuckled, “Let me think. There must be one that had a story for the full hour.” He pondered a while and said, “OK, I give up. What’s the name of a show that had all one story?” I replied, “This wasn’t a riddle or a puzzle. The reason you can’t think of one is because there were no comedy shows like that.” He wrinkled his brow. “I wonder why.” I pondered How deep can I go? Walter certainly is following me. I decided to proceed, “Hmmm. There never was a show like that in the past. But there is one now. It’s called “The Great Gildersleeve” show.” He was a bit annoyed. “Hey that ain’t fair. I’m in that show. Now that you mention it, yes, but how come?” “Your show is a pioneer in the world of comedy. It has a single story, where each scene advances the plot, as it does in a book, play or movie. That demands a lot from the writers, and performers. And you are doing wonderfully.” He grinned broadly. “Really? And they do give me the lead in some of the shows.” I chuckled, “They’re businessmen, and they know you draw an audience. And the people who pay for the ads also like that.” Walter scratched his head. “You and I have been talking grown up stuff. Thanks.” I was stunned. Had no one ever spoken to Walter Tetley as an adult? Walter’s brother came over to us and said, “I figured that since you were an engineer, could you assemble and install an electrified trap for insects?” “I replied, “Sure it’s the least I can do to repay you for giving me a ride.” It was a metal structure about 3 feet long, and 4 by 4 inches across. There were two wires the length of the device, and when an insect passed between them, a high voltage sent a spark across the gap and electrocuted the bug. It had a protective grille to keep a person from harm. I worked well into the night before the job was completed. I tested the trap, and when a bug entered it, I heard the snap sound of the spark. Yuck. It was quite late, and I was ready to return to the Army Post. “Army Post!” I yelped and froze. “I had forgotten to report in to the Army Post before curfew.” Before I died, Walter calmly told me, “I could tell you were going to be busy a long time. So, I phoned the Commander at your Army Post and notified him of your predicament. I hope you don’t mind, but I kind of emphasized that you were half blind and could not make it back before curfew. He said OK, and he signed you in.” I was stunned by the thoughtfulness of this guy. He knew exactly what to do on my behalf. This certainly was not the behavior of a child. Walter said. “You don’t want to be traveling at night. You can sleep here.” Then he and his brother set up the guest room for me, and I slept well that night. The next morning, I didn’t have to travel to Walter’s home. I was there already. Walter and I began our teamwork. As Walter’s liaison, one of my tasks was to write comedy material, and another job was to listen to Walter read his lines. I discovered that he read his lines immaculately. While he didn’t have the natural style of a comedian, if the script called for a humorous atmosphere, he adapted perfectly. A humorous script made him a great comedian, for several reasons: one, he read the lines with perfection. Two, he knew how to add just the right sparkle to his youthful voice. Three, he knew when to pause and how long. He really was the writer’s ideal model of an actor. He fully understood the script and never misread a part. It was Walter’s prerogative to decide whether we’d work all day or a half, how many days a week, and this changed as he saw fit. It was a bit startling for a guy who looked like a child to be so adult in his work habits. I was beginning to see a conflict in the dichotomy — he looked like a child but was really an adult. In fact he was 10 years older than I was. And this dichotomy permeated his entire life . I noticed that Walter never had any friends and we talked freely about it. The problem was that he looked, spoke, and acted like LeRoy, the child he played. So adults were NOT drawn into friendship with him, since he appeared to be a child. And 10 year old kids could not identify with him, since mentally he was a full-grown man. This was the down side of his non-aging features. I became acutely aware that he must have had long bouts with loneliness. This dichotomy also permeated his relations with his own family. I noticed that his brother and parents treated him like the ten-year-old he played professionally. He had to ask his mother if he could go for a swim, to eat a snack before lunch, and to take something out of the garage. I’ll admit that I was shocked, but figured it was best not to interfere. Walter’s family life was outside the jurisdiction of my job as his liaison. I was hired as Walter’s liaison for a good reason. And he accepted me into his complicated life for the same reason. I felt empathy with him and I was able to help him, for I had lived the same dichotomy that he did. Walter and I were soul mates. As a momentary break from the strict and tedious routine, Walter invited me to ride one of his horses, and he took a photo of me in the saddle. However, he was loath to allow me to take his picture. This was the first time that I had witnessed his objection to a photo. He was also loath to write a letter or to sign his name. Only a few photos of Walter are available to the public. Consequently, many people in the theater business never saw Walter. They were not sure what he looked like. They imagined that he might be short. They figured he made his voice high pitched for effect. They wondered why he was always cast in kid’s roles. In answer to all these misconceptions, what about Walter’s voice? He never resorted to a falsetto, nor did he raise his voice to a high pitch. He used his natural voice, which was that of a 10 year old child — sort of high and squeaky. His height was normal for a child of 10. He was cast in kid’s roles because he looked and sounded the part. I worked with Walter when he was the lead character in several shows. I recall a show where the subject concerned a pony that LeRoy (the character he played) wanted. There was irony in this episode to laugh at, because in real life Walter owned two horses. He and I did get a kick out of that. In several shows, LeRoy either wanted, or looked for something in great need. It required him to project the corresponding emotion, and since this was radio, he had to accomplish that with only his voice. That was one of Walter’s great talents, but it’s funny how he did it. He made faces. When he first read the script, he conjured up the emotion — be it delight or sadness — and he made the corresponding facial expression. He did it again during rehearsal, and finally when the show was on the air. Why display facial expressions when the audience cannot see it? Why? For himself. He needed that to give him the impetus to really feel the emotion. There never was anything false about Walter’s performance. And on radio, all the audience perceived was his voice, and yet Walter was able to convey the emotion emphatically. Walter and I were getting to know one another. When we exchanged biographical histories, Walter referred to what he’d do when he grew up. This was his dilemma. He was thirty-years old, and he was grown up. Yet, because of his voice, appearance, and behavior, he considered himself a child. Yes, even Walter himself fell into dichotomy’s pit. There was little I could offer as advice, because I never had any training as a guidance counselor. The best I could do was to listen to what he had to say, and encourage him to follow his ideals. The most important concern was to treat him as an equal, and to grant him the status as the adult he really was. Never mind that he looked and sounded like child. He needed to be revered as an adult — and he deserved that honor. One time, Walter was down in the dumps. It was his volition to call it a day and send me home. But that would only leave him feeling blue. As a comedian I had an idea. “Say Walter, how about some hot chocolate and cookies?” The little boy in him was delighted. I spoke like a professor, “But it tastes best if made with cold water. Now I offer the appropriate warning. Since the cold-water tap in on the right hand side, never turn it on with your left hand. Because you must cross the plumbing fixture.” As I said that the spigot slid up my sleeve. And when I turned on the water, we had Niagara Falls in the kitchen. The water poured out of the sleeve into the sink, which was OK. But it also gushed out of neck of my shirt. Since I wasn’t a fish, I was drowning. The scene was so funny that Walter was convulsed with laughter. By the time his guffaw died down, I had heated the drink and served it. But Walter wasn’t able to let go of the gag. Seeing the water dripping from my sleeve as I reached for a cookie, he suddenly burst out laughing. And it was a burst of monumental proportions. But his mouth was closed and the warm chocolate drink poured out of his nose. That sent him into convulsions of laughter. Of course, his laugher was contagious, and I had no control. Did you ever laugh so hard and so long that your jaws ached? He was over the blues, and we resumed working on the script. Another time when Walter and I went over the script, he asked me why I gave him a certain series of short lines.” I explained, “I don’t always write your comedy lines. Most of the time the writers do that, but they allow me to substitute my own words, as long as it fits into what they wrote. Timing. Now, here Gildersleeve had to introduce the conflict. But it was a long, dragged out affair. At the same time, how will the radio audience know you are in the scene? So the writers gave you meaningless words to create your presence. I chose to give you a few one-liners and also had you ask Gildersleeve a question to break up his long tirade. Can you imagine the sound?” “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.” “OK, let’s ask your brother to act out the scene with me — first as it was originally written, and then as I’ve changed it.” Walter’s brother and I did that and I asked Walter his opinion. He opened his eyes wide. “You want my opinion?” “Of course. I’ve observed that you read your lines with perfect interpretation. So I know your opinion will be professional.” He shook his head in disbelief. Then he gave me his opinion. “I like your version because the long tirade is boring. And the original words are the same as if I just grunted like an animal. So master, I see that you know how to do stuff like that.” I laughed, “That’s my expertise. In show biz, each person must be great at their specialty. If the person plays the piano, he or she must know how to change the key to suit the singer. On stage, the guy who operates the spotlights must know how to follow the dancer. And the actor, like you, must know how to read the part, how to modulate the voice, how to introduce a laugh, worry, happiness or sadness in the voice. All of us expect the other person to know his specific job.” He laughed, “We’re all great, aren’t we?” There was one show where LeRoy was sick. It called for a way to find humor in an event that was unpleasant. Of course, the writers did a good job with the dialog, but it was up to the actor to carry the ball when the show was on the air. Walter and I performed the scene to get in the mood, and to give Walter room to try a few different emotions. In a way, the task was like walking a tight rope over a conflagration. I was a bit too relaxed, counting on Walter to sort out the appropriate emotions. Finally he said, “I once was sick and I can’t see the humor in this.” Here is why I was engaged as Walter’s liaison — not his director. I placed both hands on his shoulders and spoke like a father to his son, “Walter, one of the difficult tasks for an actor is to ignore his own memories and feelings. The words are very good. The humor is good and is not forced. The staff must have spent a lot of time, and I’m sure they had little sleep this week working on that script. Remember when you and I talked about each guy who had to be good at his task? The writers did their share, and now they’re depending on the actor to breathe humor and life into their hard work. I think you’re a great actor. Now let’s see you read that script.” He did marvelously. Another time, I asked Walter for a cold reading (sight reading a script without first seeing it) to give him practice in case of a slip up by one of the actors. Or another eventuality, what if the show somehow ran a little bit fast and there’s a few minutes left till closure? There can never be a silent moment in radio. What can you do? Sight read a last minute addition.” He eyed me strangely, and said, “That’s only done by professionals.” He shrugged, “Adults.” I replied, “Yes, that’s why I’m asking you to read impromptu. OK, Mr. Tetley, now let’s hear you read.” During the subsequent week, as Walter and I worked on the script, I could tell that he didn’t like one particular piece. He pointed out where it could be improved. By now, he voiced his opinion like the adult he was, and what’s more he portrayed a grown up point of view. I had learned to trust Walter’s judgment and we made the changes. We acted out the scene, and were delighted that it moved along very smoothly. After Walter and I went through the scene twice, I took the manuscript to the head writer. I told him that Walter had helped me to perfect the material. He found that difficult to believe. At that moment, if there ever was any doubt about why I was paid to be Walter’s liaison, now I knew. One day, Walter and I finished early and I planned to take him to a local movie theater. We got popcorn, hot dogs, and soda. However, the theater manager wouldn’t allow us to bring food into the theater. We left in a huff, but I was undaunted, and made plans of retaliation. And I had drafted Walter into the mischievous plot. I don’t know if Walter ever did anything mischievous before this time. If he didn’t, then I was a bad influence. Nevertheless, Walter felt driven to be my accomplice. Either that, or perhaps he was laughing too hard to object. We took a taxi to a department store and we bought a child-size rag doll. We removed some of the stuffing, and filled it with the food. Walter was of little help as he was convulsed with laughter the whole time. Then we entered the building. The ticket booth was in the lobby, which was dimly lit. That was to our advantage. Walter and I began to “walk” the doll to make her look like a real child, and we bought her a ticket to enter the theater. It was a hilarious adventure, and I was afraid that Walter’s high-pitched cackle would get us thrown out of the theater. But a very funny movie with Fred MacMurray was playing, and no one noticed us. Walter was still laughing as we watched the movie and ate our contraband food. Walter never laughed so much in his life. It did my heart good to see the guy in such a state of hilarity. Then in May of 1946, it was a sad moment when I received my travel orders for my military discharge in Sacramento, California. It was time for me to return home – – – and to leave the West coast. Walter Tetley insisted on taking me to the train station. When we got into a cab, he explained another woe. Because he looked like a child, he wasn’t allowed to get a driver’s license. As we rode, a thought hit me. “Next month he will be 31, and for a birthday gift, I hope, indeed how I hope, that I had started him along the avenue toward self-esteem.” He still had no friends, and he still was reluctant to write letters and sign his name. But he no longer asked for his mother’s permission to go for a swim, to have a snack before lunch, or to take something out of the garage. And he made sure people listened to him. He was beginning to know who he was, and that he rated the status of adulthood. He still had his child-like appearance, which was his meal ticket for life. But he no longer paid for it by being demoted to childhood. I wanted my parting words to be upbeat and objective. In a way, it became my responsibility since I had given him hope by being more than his friend. I was his associate and he was mine — two adults. And it was not to my credit — it was Walter’s. I simply talked to him like the grown-up he was, and listened to him as an equal. And he drank up the milk of professional individuality. In years to come, I was delighted to learn that Walter Tetley did make use of his gift — without surrendering his identity. In the subsequent years he got contracts for shows and voice-over parts in animated cartoons: Julius on the Phil Harris & Alice Faye Show (radio) (1948 -1954). Voice of Sherman on Rocky and His Friends, The Bullwinkle Show, and Peabody’s Improbable History (TV animated cartoons) (1959 -1964). Yes, he was a child in all of these — the child whose face and voice never grew older. But he was loved and honored by his audience. And their memory of him never aged. He was literally the Fountain of Youth.

June 6, 2001

It was not until the spring or summer of 1972, that I had ever heard of Walter Tetley.  That was so long ago that he was still alive, back then………but by that time, he was in his last years………his last few difficult years (and way past his prime).  In the spring and summer of 1972, Walter Tetley was down to his very last three to three-and-a-half years.

For W.T. enthusiasts, you have to wonder what he was doing with himself, at that time.  Surely we know that he was probably still in a great deal of pain, from his motorcycle accident (circa 1971………or perhaps as long ago as the late 60s).  But I am sure that he continued to live, and function, on other levels.  Surely there were times, when he was not just involved in rehab, or medical treatment.

We do know that he continued to work, for part of those last few years, when he could.  I also have to wonder if he was still involved with his volunteer work, with the handicapped (I had read that he started doing this work before he, himself, was in a wheelchair).

I would like to find a picture of him, as he looked then, in the early to mid 70s.  Most of the pictures, that I have seen of him, are from 30 years earlier.  Though many of those later photos, were probably not particularly flattering (due to that difficult phase of his life, and the fact that he was fast approaching the identity of a senior citizen), I would really enjoy seeing a different side of him.

The more faces, that we manage to see of an individual, the more it helps us in truly knowing him better.  I have read enough about Walter’s life that, seeing a snapshot of him in his fifties, would truly compliment my knowledge of him.

One of our readers, sent us a copy of Tetley’s death certificate.  The information, on this certificate, shows that he and fellow voice actor, June Foray, were neighbors, at some point (they both lived in Woodland Hills, CA).  His very last address, however, according to this certificate, was a convalescent home (or nursing home).

On the other hand, the late, great, veteran voice artist, Paul Frees, said, in 1975, that he thought that Walter was living in a trailer, down by the beach by that time.  All of these mysteries, and questions, surrounding Walter’s last years…….and days; they are quite intriguing.

I sometimes wonder about Harold Peary, his co-star, and the title player of The Great Gildersleeve.  I wonder if he visited Walter, when he was in the hospital, or at his home, when he got out.  I wonder if he called on Walter, from time to time, at his home, in an effort to comfort and cheer him up, after all the years, that they worked together, on that radio show.

Harold Peary, who played Walter’s “uncle”, in their radio series, was really not that much older than he.  Born in 1908, he was only about seven years his senior.  He died nearly 10 years after Walter, (in 1985) just a few months shy of his 77th birthday.  I also wonder if Harold Peary or any of the other Gildersleeve cast members, who were still living, visited Walter, during his last days, at the convalescent home.

Flashing back to 1972, however, I knew absolutely nothing about Walter Tetley, then……..and even when I learned, that he was the voice of Sherman, in Peabody’s Improbable History, I did not have the first clue, as to how famous, he had once been.

I had never heard a single adult, ever mention his name. I did not know of a single movie, that he had ever done. I had never seen him guest star on any of the TV sitcoms or  dramas, from the 70s.  I had also never seen his name, in the credits of any cartoons, other than the Rocky and Bullwinkle series.

By this time The Great Gildersleeve radio show, had been over for at least 14 years.  Any adults, who enjoyed it and remembered it, were certainly not talking about it, that much, anymore (they were especially not talking about the show, to a 12-year-old, like me, who could not begin to relate to it)……….and naturally they were not talking about Tetley’s other show, in which he played the character of Julius: The Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show.

In conclusion, you could pretty much say, that I assumed that all that Walter Tetley had ever done, was just a few paltry voices, for cartoons, many years ago (when I was a baby!!)………….and that was about it………..

The pieces came together very slowly, for me………even extremely slowly……….as to who did the voice of theanimated character, Sherman……….and as to just how remarkable Walter Tetley was.

Back in the early 70s, I knew enough about June Foray, to know that she was NOT the voice of Sherman.  She would have been a logical guess, since I knew that she was Rocky’s voice (and Rocky was a boy).  Sherman’s
puerile voice just did not carry that trademark, tell-tale stamp of June’s style, germane to all her other characters.

I pretty much knew, from the start, that Sherman’s voice had to be that of a boy.  I might have held out, a small amount of doubt, that he could be voiced by a woman, had I not already known that June Foray was usually the only woman, who worked for Jay Ward cartoons.

I had read the credits, at the end of the Rocky and Bullwinkle shows, several times.  I had seen the name, Walter Tetley, but there were so many male voices listed, that it was too hard, for me, to narrow down, by process of elimination, just who was Sherman.

1972 was 13 years after the first <i>Peabody</i> cartoons had been recorded.  Without knowing more information, I had decided that, whoever voiced Sherman, was probably just a boy, back in 1959……….and could no longer do that voice, today, thanks to the wear and tear of puberty.

It was sometime, this year (or in 1973, at the latest), that I managed to find an address, for Jay Ward Productions, and actually managed to get the staff, there, to pay attention to me.  One of the studio’s secretaries wrote me a letter, answering many of my questions.  Among other things, she told me which voice artists did the voices, of their various cartoons characters.  She did acknowledge, in her letter: “I did get a little bit of help, from our co-producer, Bill Scott.”

Not much had changed, at this point; I still thought that the voice of Sherman was provided by a boy (back when I was still in my cradle); only now I had a name to go with the person. 

It was not until December, 1973, when June Foray was the first, of Jay Ward’s voice actors, to write to me, that I learned the truth of how remarkable Mr. Tetley was!

June wrote: “Walter Tetley is quite an old man, but he still has the voice of a young boy……..” (ironically he was only a couple years older than June, herself).

I was fascinated.  I wondered just how old he was……..I assumed that June was in her forties or fifties…….and there she was calling Walter “quite an old man”.  Was he in his sixties, seventies or even eighties, I wondered (this would have made him even older than my grandparents, back then; they were 55 and 57)??

To learn that he was not at all young, back then (older than my parents, for sure), and he could talk like someone my age………I was overwhelmed with how unique this man was!!  I was further intrigued, when June told me that he was no longer that active, anymore, professionally……..and then, despite the fact that she told me this, within the next 12 months, I heard his voice, as a newspaper boy, on a brand, new Keebler commercial!

It took me 28, nearly 29 years, after that, to learn anything, at all, about Walter’s radio career (and the fact that he had had some bit parts, and supporting roles, in a few movies from the 30s and the 40s).  When I learned about his Leroy Forrester part, in The Great Gildersleeve(and about Julius, from The Phil Harris and Alice Faye Show), I understood, for the very first time, just why he was such a hot commodity, for Jay Ward and Bill Scott, in their Peabody cartoon show.  They probably considered it  a true honor to have this very famous radio voice, as one of their “kid voices” in that first series (undoubtedly they had also been big fans, of The Great Gildersleeve, years ago).

At any rate, there is a special place, in my heart, for the first phase of my discoveries of Walter Tetley.  Though I was quite ignorant, back then, about what made him special, I am reminded of all those precious, boyhood days, that went hand in hand, with those discoveries……………especially:

Those long, lazy summers, in Pottstown, PA, when I rode my bike, everyday………including to our local shopping center, for ice-cream or pizza……..or all the many hours, that I spent, in elementary school, junior high and high school, at our local swimming pool………..or the times that I laid out, in our nice, big, grassy, front yard, getting a suntan, and writing letters, to pass the time…….or the times that my friends, and I, enjoyed the sight of those first, glowing, fire flies, as the warm, evening breeze, massaged our faces…….

I had no idea, while I was carefree and enjoying my youth, that Walter was slowly dying………..Maybe it’s best that I never knew………..in my immaturity, back then, I probably would not have been much use, or much help, had I found a way to write to him.

I hope to learn more, about the “senior Walter Tetley“…….The last Walter Tetley, who graced this earth, in the first half of the 1970s………….