HE MAKES LIKE SUPERMAN

 HE MAKES LIKE SUPERMAN

BUD COLLYER KEEPS A SCHEDULE THAT WOULD WILT EVEN THE COMIC BOOK HERO HE PLAYS ON THE AIR

BY TWEED BROWN

IT’S 10:45 most any week-day morning at the RCA building in Radio City. A studio door suddenly bursts open and out streams a human form—faster than a speeding bullet—and disappears into another studio three doors down the hall. It’s not a bird—not a plane—it’s not even Superman. This human chunk of greased lightning in Clayton (Bud) Collyer, a radio character who makes like Superman—both on the air and off.

The above 100-foot sprint in occasioned by Bud’s super schedule which calls for him to appear on NBC’s “Road of Life,” from 10:30 to 10:45 five days a week and on ABC’s “Listening Post,” from 10:45 to 11 an equal number of days. There’s only a 30-second lapse between Bud’s last words as announcer-narrator on “Road of Life” and his opening lines on “Listening Post.”

“It’s a good thing both studios are in the same building,” Bud comments,

<BUD COCKS AN ARTY EYEBROW AT THE EXPLOITS OF YOUNG AMERICA’S IDL FOR WHOM HE PROVIDES THE VOCAL PERSONALITY>

“or I’d never make it. If either of those programs even were to move to another floor, I’d have to make like Superman and fly in and out of windows or crash through the ceiling.”

Most of Bud’s life runs at that tempo. Perhaps that’s why he quit law back in 1933 to go into radio. It wasn’t a bad move for Bud. Today at 32 he makes better than $50,000 a year and follows a daily routine that makes Superman look like a transient rusticating on a bench up in Central Park.

For six years Bud has been playing Superman—the amazing newspaper reporter-good fairy who can clear tall buildings in a single bounce—and paralleling it with a radio schedule that has him broadcasting on all of the four major networks some time during the day.

Five days each week he appears on four shows daily, and an average weekend will find him on from two to five. In his spare time (that’s a witticism, chum) he romps with his three youngsters and teaches Sunday School. Which is not bad for a handsome young fellow who started out with full intentions of becoming a lawyer.

Bud grew up in and around New York with his well-known sister, June Collyer, who was a movie actress before she became Mrs. Stuart Erwin. His brother, Richard, is supervisor of Edward Small Productions on West Coast. Bud attended Horace Mann School for Boys, Williams College, and was studying law at Fordham when he got a job as a radio singer to help pay his tuition.

Following that Bud got his one and only taste as an in-the-flesh entertainer in a floor show at the Plaza hotel. The audience frightened him so badly that he never tried it again. About that time Bud finished law school and was all set to hang out his shingle. Then one day Helen Claire, Fox Movietone fashion editor, suggested that he try radio acting and recommended him for a series at NBC. He got the job and found the work and pay so enticing that he forgot about law.

During his thirteen years in radio, Bud has announced some of the top shows emanating from New York. In addition to playing Superman, he has announced “Truth or Consequences,” “Hildegarde Program,” “Cavalcade of America,” handled remote pick-ups for “We the People,” is current emcee of “Continental Celebrity Club,” announces “Break the Bank” and more soap operas than you can shake a tub of suds at.

Bud’s schedule, Monday through Friday, runs something like this: From 9 to 9:50 a.m. he rehearses ABC’s “Listening Post.” From 9:55 to 10:30 he rehearses NBC’s “Road of Life.” From 10:30 to 10:45 he is on the air as announcer-narrator for “Road of Life.” Then he does his speed sprint down the corridor to appear as announcer on “Listening Post” from 10:45 to 11 o’clock. Then from 11 to 1, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Bud makes one-minute transcriptions and recordings to plug the programs he appears on.

He allows himself a half hour between 1 and 1:30 p. m. for lunch. At 1:30 he’s back rehearsing for the afternoon broadcast of “Road of Life” which goes out on CBS. At 1:45 the show is on air.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays Bud is free from 2 to 4, but on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays he makes more recordings. Then from 4:15 to 5:15 he rehearses “Superman.” And as all live-wired kiddies know, “Superman: is on the air from 5:15 to 5:30 over Mutual. In between times Bud gives interviews to high school reporters or to Superman fans who want to feel his muscles.

Bud is a free-lancer, which means that he can do any shows that he can fit into his busy schedule. A couple of nights a week he stays in town to do free-lance programs. On Friday night he announces the new ABC super-give-away quiz show, “Break the Bank.” On Saturday night Bud moves over to CBS to perform as the glib emcee of “Continental Celebrity club.” He tries to keep Sundays clear, but he get a call now

<JACKIE KELK, JOAN ALEXANDER, JACKSON BECK AND SUPERMAN”>

<CYNTHIA AND PAT POSED WITH DADDY, BUT PATRICA WAS SHY>

and then to handle a remote pick-up for “We the People.”

Although Bud is a handsome, well-proportioned specimen, he is quite content that he never has been called on to pose in Superman suits or undergo a publicity campaign linking him with the super hero of the comic pages. The owners of the Superman properties have discovered that they can’t match with a physical facsimile the image of their comic book Galahad that is engraved on the minds of Young America. During the New York World’s Fair a brawny, muscle-bound ex-pugilist was crammed into a Superman suit and placed on exhibit with the intent and purpose of aweing comic-page devotees. But the youngsters took one quick look, grabbed their noses, and nasaled: “You’re not Superman—why don’tcha go back to Brooklyn—ya bum?”

Bud, too, has found that being identified with the wonder man of the air waves and comic books has its drawback. By word of mouth the word got around that Bud is the ether super

<AT HOME, BUD RELAXES WITH “CANDY,” “MISSY” AND “BOUNCY,” NAMES BY HIS CHILDREN>

   character and he is often asked to cars by skeptical youngsters who wind it up with, “An let’s see yuh fly.”

Once when Bud was living in Jackson Heights, a young worshipper of eight would wait for him every night at the subway exit. As Bud walked home, the lad would follow, hopping along beside him and looking beseechingly up into Bud’s eyes, begging him to “make like Superman.” The youngster’s mother later told Bud that on nights that he failed to arrive in Jackson Heights at his accustomed time, she had to go to the subway exit and lead her offspring home by the ear, as he otherwise would have kept his vigil all night for his hero.

Bud and his wife, the tormer Heloise Green, have taken great precautions to make clear in the minds of their three children—Patricia, eight; Cynthia, six, and Michael, four—that Daddy is not Superman, but merely an actor, who, among other jobs, portrays Superman on the air. So well did they get this idea across that one day they were startled when they overheard the following conversation between four-year-old Michael and a neighbor’s child.

“Hey, your dad’s Superman!” the visiting Kiddie cried in awed tones.

“No, he isn’t Superman,” replied the well-coached Michael “he’s just an actor.”

The Collyer children are ardent Superman fans and wouldn’t miss a broadcast for a pocketful of bubble gum. But when they listen in, it’s to Superman not Daddy. They entirely disassociate their father from the mental picture they carry of the comic character who is “more powerful than a locomotive.”

People have wondered if Bud’s rigorous schedule didn’t wear on his nerves—making a barbiturate addict of him Perhaps the calm, unruffled exterior was merely a guise—that down underneath he was a bundle of nerves as a result of living by a spilt-second time-table.

Bud smiles and assures everyone that his blood pressure is normal and that he sleeps as soundly as a truck driver. He keeps a room in Manhattan and every spare moment he dashes over to it and stretches out for a catnap.

After watching a Superman rehearsal and broadcast, it was easy to understand why Bud’s rigorous schedule doesn’t get him down. It’s pure play with him. Bud and Comedian Jackie Kelk, who plays the part of a cub reporter, clowned and cut up like a couple of high school sophomores and kept Director Roger (Duke) DeCoveny fretting throughout the rehearsal. Since there is no studio audience for Superman, they were able to continue their gagging right on through the broadcast—except when they were in front of the microphone and then they gave a performance calculated to keep Junior’s ear glued to his receiving set.

Next to frolicking with his children Bud’s hobby is teaching Sunday school. He hasn’t missed a Sunday, in the last ten years, and no matter how much he moves around, he always winds up with a class in the local Methodist church Right now Bud teaches a class of boys and girls between the ages of 13 and 19 at the High Ridge Methodist church near his home in Pound Ridge, N Y.

When Bud lived in Jackson Heights he was superintendent of the entire Sunday School of some 1,500 pupils. Later he moved to Manhasset where he built up a class of some 90 boys and girls. Although most of his pupils regard him as plan Bud Collyer, the chances are that Superman plays a bigger role in his Sunday School work than they suspect. Portraying the clean-living champion of right five days a week doubtless has its influence when Bud faces his Bible scholars on Sunday.

Bud Collyer is one successful man who is not particularly interested in climbing to further pinnacles of achievement. He’d be quite content to spend the rest of his life doing the type of radio programs that he’s now doing.

Bud likes it here—in New York. And he has the satisfaction that when he has spoken his last word for the day into a microphone he can head for home with assurance that when he gets there can shed his radio roles and step into the part of husband and father—just like any other commuter—although en route a couple of youngsters may call on him to “make like Superman.”