Greetings, Lovers of Radio Spots and all things collectible.
I hope this week’s installment finds you doing well.
This year has gotten off to a bittersweet start for me. My very distant cousin, Estil Yancey, passed away early last week, and, since I was the only surviving relative, I was called on to help put his final things in order. He was 104 years old and I didn’t know him that well, having only seen him a few times in my life. He lived over in Possum Hollow so it was quite a ways away.
I grabbed Uncle Oscar and we made the three-hour journey over to the funeral home to make final arrangements. We met with his lawyer and the funeral director, a gaunt-looking fellow named Phineas Grimm. He looked so nice, so natural. He showed us Cousin Estil’s insurance policy and I couldn’t believe all the extra charges the funeral home had tacked on. These places really make a killing! I had to come up with an extra $100 to cover the overages. Uncle Oscar and I made plans to pick up Cousin Estil’s body in two days for interment in Witchwood Cemetery. We planned to have a simple memorial service before he was laid to rest. Uncle Oscar said he would handle everything. It was a serious undertaking.
The lawyer told me that I was the sole heir of Cousin Estil’s estate and that everything in and including his house was mine. He told me that Estil had been in poor health for most of last year, but he was still bright and alert. For some time he had volunteered in the geriatric ward at the local hospital because “he wanted to help the old people.” I told him I had no use for the house and he said he would take care of getting it listed on the market.
Before we left to go to the house, Uncle Oscar and I got to see Cousin Estil. Poor old critter. He was skin and bones. The lawyer told us that neighbors had helped bring him food and that nurses had checked on him everyday at the end. It was a grave situation. One day he fell and broke his hip, was taken to the hospital, and died of pneumonia a few days later.
Cousin Estil’s house was a modest little cottage with few things. After we saw what was there I decided to give his possessions to Goodwill. However, we did find a large footlocker in his bedroom which contained a treasure trove of valuable memorabilia. For much of his life Cousin Estil had worked in radio, serving as a DJ, a program manager, and in management. We found stacks of old 78 rpm records from artists like Kay Kyser, Glenn Miller, Perry Como, Dean Martin and others, as well as 45s and LPs from the rock-and-roll era. We also found old transcription disks of vintage commercials, lots of scripts and copy, and, believe it or not, a few radio spot records.
Uncle Oscar and I loaded up his things, dropped off most at the Goodwill and headed home. I spent a few hours that night going through the footlocker, reliving the past and playing some of my favorite Kay Kyser songs.
The radio spots were priceless and you’ll hear them over the next few weeks. Since I remember Cousin Estil being a fitness buff and in the prime of life back when I knew him, I decided to choose a sword-and-sandal double feature to honor him in this week’s installment.
So, from early Spring, 1964, listen as Paul Frees tells us about the American International combo Goliath and the Sins of Babylon, with Mark Forest, and Samson and the Slave Queen, with Alan Steel. Thank you, Cousin Estil, for having the foresight to save this and the others for me to share on my site all these years later. Rest In Peace, and may “the hits just keep on comin.”
