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Radio Network Celebrates Tenth Anniversary With Memories of Radiation, Financial Battles

Dudley Hall Station Opens New Studio Today with Reenactment of Its Perilous History

"In judgment of the Harvard Radio Network origin, I would award; a sharp rap of the knuckles to University Hall for its lack of encouragement and faith in the possibilities of a new idea a large decanter of radioactive vinegar to the Maintenance Department for its exorbitant bille, elasped hands over an empty chair to the CRIMSON for its skill at artificial insemination, and four buckets of high grade admiration to past and present members of the Network."

Today marks the tenth anniversary of the Radio Network. These words were written as a tribute to the occasion by Charles W. Oliphant '41, a successful Tulsa, Oklahoma, businessman and one of the founders of the station. This afternoon and evening 55 present staff members and many former Network men will gather in the WHRB studio in the basement of Dudley Hall to celebrate the anniversary with speeches by Associate Dean Watson, founders Gordon P. McCouch '41 and Lawrence Lader '41, and Marcus White 2d '51, president of the organization.

The anniversary will also mark the opening of the large and modern Studio B, built entirely by members and will feature a 4 p.m. broadcast of the history of the station.

WHRB has come through ten long, and often uncomfortable, years of struggles with the Dean's office, financial matters, equipment problems, and countless minor faux pas over the airwaves that have made young program directors grow gray. Despite all the difficulties the station today proudly flaunts its position as "the only organization devoted to service to the College student with no financial obligation on his part."

New Equipment from Old

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WHRB does not exactly posses the most modern and desirable in technical equipment, but countless man-hours of labor by undergraduate technicians have turned some new, and a large quantity of old war surplus, equipment into a setup amazingly close to that of a commercial station. On a small budget theoretical technicians, mostly Physics and E.S.A.P concentrators, have designed and maintained the intricate circuits and studio layouts to enable their program brethren, the control men, to go to Dudley six days a week and operate the equipment.

Six top announcers handle evening shows, special features, and on-location broadcasts from House common rooms, the Indoor Athletic Building, or Sanders Theatre, while six more apprentices take care of recorded music programs, principally in the afternoon. Other departments include: copy-writing and continuity, scheduling of classical music programs, scheduling of popular music, and advertising. The program, or operations, director is responsible for making the entire organization function as a unit, with the sole objective of putting programs on the air and getting them as near-perfect as possible.

Business vs. Pleasure

This objective has instigated a minor dispute of late: whether the Network should be partially a social organization or entirely a business one. The latter camp is in power at present, with the result that no potent beverages are allowed on the premises; a tacit ruling points out that beer and announcing do not mix.

The heart of the station is the Master Control Room, housing the transmitter, much of the equipment, and the main turntables. This control room is the outlet for the small Studio A. Studio B is used for large live shows, and the B Control Booth is also used for programs in which one man must do a solo on announcing and controls.

The villains of the station are the large and expensive Western Union clocks on every wall which give accurate Naval Observatory time. Timing is the god of radio, making scheduling and programming a split-second technical affair.

But the Network is not without its human side. A favorite story of the station tells of the consternation caused during a discussion of coeducation by a Harvard and a Radcliffe student. The young man, declaring himself a mysoganist, was complaining that women were troublesome and a waste of time. Whereupon his companion cooed sweetly into the microphone, "Then why are you holding my knee?"

On another occasion the broadcast of a Harvard-Yale swimming meet was accidentally scheduled far too early. Finding himself on the air, the announcer talked for five minutes about the Harvard team. Then he gave a six-minute oration about the Yale swimmers. Then for four minutes he talked about the ladies in the audience. After 17 minutes, on the verge of losing both his voice and his mind, he was stating for the fourth time that the water in the pool was indeed a bluish green when the relays finally started.

But these were only temporary trials. Last year's brief shutdown by the F.C.C., when the station's radiation output was too high, was only one of a long series of radiation problems.

A Freshman Inspiration

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