George Grapman wrote in message ...

Joel Rubin wrote:

This may be urban legend but is still funny. The re-creations would
start after the actual game to allow for the possibility of the ticker
breaking down. When this happened the announcer would have the batter
fouling off pitch after pitch. If need be....

The _Washington Post_ is delivered to my secret listening bunker. I
saw this article this morning and intended to forward it to an ex-RR
telegrapher. Since there are some dah-dah-dit-o heads here, I might as
post the link.

Come to think of it, those sounders communicated not with a dah-dit,
but with a clacka-clacka. I'll bet that somewhere along the way,
Reagan was in a movie in which a telegraph sounder clacked out a
message while someone asked, "what's that saying?" to which the
operator replied "the Yanks/Rebs are coming!"

I've got a few of those sounders. I rigged up a J-38 key to a tone
generator to practice for my blazing 5 WPM test. But I digress.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn...-2004Jun5.html


Former President Had A Passion for Sports
He Played Football, Announced Baseball

By William Gildea
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, June 6, 2004; Page E01

.....
With radio becoming an integral part of American life in 1932, Reagan
auditioned for a sports announcer's job at WOC, Davenport, Iowa.
.....

Then came a four-year stint at a major station, WHO, in Des Moines.
.....

As inevitably happened in those days, Reagan suffered the agony of
having the telegraph connection go dead on him. It happened to him as
he recounted in "Where's the Rest of Me?" with the Cubs' Augie Galan
at bat. In his game description, Reagan already had the pitch on the
way when his in-house telegraph operator, Curly, slipped him a note
saying he had lost contact with the ballpark.

"So I had Augie foul this pitch down the left-field foul line. I
looked expectantly at Curly. He just shrugged helplessly, so I had
Augie foul another one, and still another; then he fouled one back
into the box seats. I described in detail the red-headed kid who had
scrambled and gotten the souvenir ball. He fouled one into the upper
deck that just missed being a home run. He fouled for six minutes and
45 seconds until I lost count. I began to be frightened that maybe I
was establishing a new world record for a fellow staying at bat
hitting fouls, and this could betray me. Yet I was into it so far I
didn't dare reveal that the wire had gone dead. My voice was rising in
pitch and threatening to crack -- and then, bless him, Curly started
typing. I clutched at the slip. It said: 'Galan popped out on the
first ball pitched.' Not in my game he didn't -- he popped out after
practically making a career of foul balls."
.....


Life imitates art. Or something like that.