Theme: Radio Evangelism Becomes My
Niche
I HAVE CALLED this part of my life The Theme, because it will present to you the manner in which my life work took shape. I am probably the only musician in history who had to play variations before the theme, but that is God's way. Over and above me, in a subtle and indiscernible manner, God gave me the advantage of a long and pleasant preparation—a time to gather poise and learn adaptability, so that the finished product would be polished enough for the job ahead—the job which was to require perfection.
After I had been playing at the Paul Rader Tabernacle for about two years, Dr. Hogg confided to the male quartet and me that he intended to begin his own daily broadcast. It was to be known as "The Country Church of Hollywood," and would originate in the studios of KFAC, a local station.
Religious broadcasts are commonplace, now, but in those days they were very rare. And this one was going
Page 30
to be different. Instead of presenting just another religious program with appropriate music and message, Dr. Hogg planned to recreate the atmosphere of a country community back in the mountains of Tennessee, where he once served as pastor. The characters from this community: the blacksmith, the shoe cobbler, the singing teacher, and the hack driver, would all have a part in the broadcast. (The aforementioned characters made up the male quartet, which sang every day on the program.) Me? I was the storekeeper. Dr. Hogg was to be known as "Parson Josiah Hopkins" and his wife was "Sister Sarah."
The station officials were understandably hesitant to present such a program, but Dr. Hogg finally succeeded in convincing one of the program managers that the idea was a good one. Long before, as a chaplain in World War I, he had been wounded. As he lay in the hospital with his numerous wounded buddies, he made a hollow sound with his hands to imitate the hoofbeats of a horse, and through the long hours of recovery (with nothing else to do) he told stories in his inimitable way, and contributed to the morale of everyone around him. He knew the success of those stories and hoofbeats, and he knew it would work!
After a good deal of prayer and preparation, we began broadcasting the "Country Church of Hollywood" program in 1933. Our theme song was "The Church in the Wildwood," and our program began with a skit which featured Parson Hopkins and one or more of the other characters on the broadcast on the way to church.
Dr. Hogg had told the quartet and me, "I don't know how this idea will be received—we'll just have to wait
Page 31
and see how much mail comes in." He said he did not have any money to pay us, but he would just divide up what came in among all of us who took part on the broadcast. As I recall, my first week's salary was four dollars!
We were on the air every day, seven days a week, from 8 to 8:30 A.M. And, of course, all of the programs were live. We had to be at the studio by 7:30 every day. During the half hour before air time, we practiced our hymns and rehearsed the skit.
As the early morning broadcast of gospel songs and message filled a place in the hearts and homes of people all over the Southern California area, the audience soon began to respond. And we reached many of the unchurched, too. Dr. Hogg's messages, while down to earth, also contained heart, and he always brought out a vital truth from the Word of God.
As the Country Church broadcast began to claim more and more of my time, I realized that God had given me my ministry in gospel radio work. I had found my niche!
As a result of the broadcast, the Quartet and I began to receive invitations to sing in the various churches in the area. And since we were not identified with any particular denomination, we were invited to many different groups. We also received invitations to sing for some of the service clubs, and, of course, all of this increased our radio audience.
I have always appreciated the value of the radio ministry because it reaches into remote areas, and into hospitals and sick rooms, but there is no substitute for actual contact with people. I love to see the faces of
Page 32
people, and to feel their response when I play or speak. And I know, that as much as people may enjoy hearing you over the air, they want to see you, and to shake your hand.
Prior to the building of the Country Church, a large tent seating about 1500 people had been placed on the property acquired by Dr. Hogg, and regular services were held there. We had no membership, but many worshipers gathered regularly in the big tent to enjoy the music, and to be blessed by the messages of Dr. Hogg. We held three services every Sunday in the tent, in addition to the radio broadcast. Dr. Hogg was preparing eighteen messages each week to feed his growing flock!
I had thought my tent-meeting days were over; but here I was, again, playing the piano on a platform in the big tent!
After we had been on the air for a year, the Country Church of Hollywood became a reality. On that property in the very heart of Hollywood (a block north and east of Hollywood and Vine) a real Country Church was erected, with the assistance of many volunteers.
One Sunday night, the girl who was to become my wife, came by herself to the service. Ordinarily, she was accompanied by several other young people including her two sisters. As she tells it, Dr. Hogg looked directly at her in some sort of precognition, and joked, "For the benefit of all the young ladies present, I would like to state that I will marry Rudy Atwood free of charge. Rudy, put some 'embroidery' on the next number!"
I had not had the courage to approach her before, but after the service I asked Grace if I might take her home.
Page 33
I had purchased a snappy little black sports car with yellow spoked wheels, and was pleased with her comment, "How nice!" I have been taking her home ever since.
Grace and I spent most of our dating evenings in the delightful way of driving to outlying churches, together with the Quartet and their girl friends, bringing music and a message. Often, people would prepare buffets for us, and sometimes we all just gathered around a table and unwound, after the day's activity.
There is something unique about an entourage of ten young people going from place to place in this manner. We came to know each other in many moods, and we felt very close as each one chose a wife, married, and began to establish a home and family.
Grace and I were engaged on Christmas Eve, just before leaving for a caroling party which was to end up at the home of Willard and Evangeline Glaeser, a wonderful Pasadena family, for a late, late (or early, early) breakfast. Whenever I see a Christmas card in deep blue, with one of those twinkling stars, I remember that night. There never was more reason for singing; there never were brighter stars, or such a moon, and the future (thanks be to God) seemed so right!
We were very much in love as we shyly made the dramatic announcement, and Grace held up her ring under the varied lights of the Christmas tree. Sometimes people will ask her, "Are you musical, too?" and "Do you ever get tired of hearing him play?" Her diplomatic reply is genuine. "I was born with music appreciation."
In 1938 I came to another great milestone in my
Page 34
experience. Dr. Charles E. Fuller came to the Country Church office, and asked if I would be interested in playing on the "Old Fashioned Revival Hour." This was a tremendous opportunity, as the program was beginning to be released on a coast-to-coast network of stations. It did not conflict in any way with my work at the Little Country Church, and the Quartet became a part of the Revival Hour Program, as well. So began an association that was to last until Dr. Fuller's death in 1968.
The "Old Fashioned Revival Hour" was comprised of a choir, the Quartet, an organist, and I played the piano. Dr. Fuller brought the gospel message, and Mrs. Fuller (known as "Honey" to millions), read excerpts from letters written by the listeners. There was nothing really spectacular about the Revival Hour broadcast, but it captured the hearts of listeners all over the nation. And every Sunday afternoon a large audience gathered in the Municipal Auditorium in Long Beach to see this hour-long program presented live, and to hear in person the song and story, "Jesus Saves."
For a brief period during those early days on The Hour, Dr. Fuller asked me to travel with him to some of his larger meetings where he would be making personal appearances. We often took a plane together, and enjoyed hours of chatting along the way. Our conversations were along the lines of dreams, with Dr. Fuller making plans for a seminary he would build someday, and me, thinking ahead on how many numbers I would need to have, and each of us wondering about our families at home. Pressures closed in, and Dr. Fuller finally gave up this phase of his work. However, at that time
Page 35
the Fuller Evangelistic Foundation supported a number of field evangelists who conducted meetings throughout the United States.
It was a joy to us to be young, and to be involved in such a pleasant way with these two vital people, Dr. and Mrs. Fuller. We had the privilege of watching their son, Daniel, grow to manhood. Mrs. Fuller was as gracious as she sounded on The Hour, and her home was opened socially to the choir and to the Quartet and me many, many times through the years. During the time they were staying on Balboa Island, and Daniel was learning the art of sailing, we spent happy days and evenings in front of the beach house, or sailing around the bay.
Mrs. Fuller dearly loved to serve "Italian Delight," a recipe of her own, and she very kindly wrote it out in her own writing for each of the wives of the Quartet. Another memory is of Mrs. Fuller, pan and spoon in hand, serving warm bittersweet topping, a favorite of Dr. Fuller, to dishes of ice cream of generous proportions. Mrs. Fuller shared this recipe with the world in a cookbook entitled Favorite Recipes.
Dr. and Mrs. Fuller liked to close such happy days with the Quartet singing some of their particular favorites, and Mrs. Fuller usually requested that I play "O Danny Boy" to complete the nostalgic mood.
Some of the things which meant so much to others on The Hour, came to mean just as much to me. A thrill reaches to my toes each time I play "Heavenly Sunshine." It is surprising to me the number of people who think of this as the theme of the "Old Fashioned Revival Hour." My children grew up to that song, and when our
Page 36
daughter began to travel, she felt she could tune in on home every Sunday via The Revival Hour. One week she had suffered a little homesickness, and she wrote home, "Now, Daddy, I will be listening when you play 'Heavenly Sunshine,' and if you put a lot of extra notes in your introduction, I will know that you miss me, too." Needless to say, that rendition was my best effort, and somehow the audience caught the spirit. At any rate, it comforted our daughter! Even though the number is not piano solo material, it is, perhaps, my most requested number when I appear in meetings, somehow having become synonymous with the Rudy Atwood style.
