“…ace cameraman who covers the crime news of the great city…”

Old-time radio historian John Dunning describes the popular radio series Casey, Crime Photographer as having “more history than substance. It was a B-grade radio detective show, on a par perhaps with The Falcon, better than Mr. Keen, but lacking the polish and style of Sam Spade.”

Now, I have nothing but the utmost admiration for Mr. Dunning—his On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio is considered by many to be The Hobby’s “Bible”—but I think his assessment of this series is a tad harsh. Any detective program will pale in comparison to The Adventures of Sam Spade, a show that I consider the gold standard of private-eye dramas, and to classify Casey as better than Mr. Keen, Tracer of Lost Persons is damning it with faint praise. The only possible way to be entertained by Mr. Keen nowadays is to enjoy it as the camp classic it has since become, particularly the character of sidekick Mike Clancy (“Saints preserve us, Mr. Keen!”), who just might possibly be the most mentally challenged character in the history of OTR. (I mean, this is a guy who makes Clem Kadiddlehopper look like Robert Oppenheimer.)

The origins of Jack “Flashgun” Casey can be traced to the 1930s detective pulp Black Mask; the hard-boiled photojournalist was introduced in the March 1934 issue by former newspaperman/ad exec George Harmon Coxe. Coxe discussed the inspiration for Casey in a 1978 interview:

I had read and enjoyed the fiction exploits of reporters from time to time, but I also knew that it was the photographer accompanying such newsmen who frequently had to stick their neck out to get an acceptable picture…This is turn meant that while the reporter with his pad and pencil could describe a warehouse or dockside fire from a safe distance, the guy with the camera had to edge far closer to get a negative that would merit reproduction. So why not give the cameraman his due? If the reporter could be a glamorous figure in fiction, why not the guy up front who took—and still does take (consider the televised war sequences)—the pictures?

So radio audiences received a formal introduction to Coxe’s creation over CBS Radio beginning July 7, 1943. The series was originally titled Flashgun Casey, but during its run it was also referred to as Casey, Press Photographer; Crime Photographer and Casey, Crime Photographer. (Apparently Casey was ducking a few creditors.) Casey snapped photos for the fictitious Morning Express, and often found himself cast in the role of amateur sleuth by getting involved in the stories he covered. Many of the plots had him stumbling across a clue in a photo he had taken (something the police had overlooked), and with the help of fellow reporter—and romantic interest—Annie Williams, they would inevitably bring the culprit(s) to justice.

What set Casey, Crime Photographer apart from its radio crime drama competition was its laid-back atmosphere, chiefly personified in its backdrop of Casey and Annie’s favorite watering hole, The Blue Note Café. There, in between assignments, they would engage in badinage with their philosophically sardonic bartender pal Ethelbert, often to the melodious accompaniment of the Blue Note’s background piano. Another factor in the show’s success was the first-rate scripting by Alonzo Deen Cole (The Witch’s Tale), who was responsible for adapting Coxe’s Casey character to radio. One reviewer at the time credited Cole’s scripts with “wit and naturalism missing from many radio thrillers.”

Matt Crowley was the first actor to tackle the role of Casey; then replaced by Jim Backus (!) and finally Staats Cotsworth, a radio veteran who also portrayed the title fourth-estate hero of NBC’s daytime serial Front Page Ferrell. The part of Annie was essayed by many different actresses: Jone Allison, Alice Reinheart, Lesley Woods, Betty Furness and Jan Miner were all heard at various times as the photographer’s main squeeze. Ethelbert was faithfully played by John Gibson throughout the entire run, and Captain Bill Logan—Casey and Annie’s contact on the police force—was portrayed by Jackson Beck, and later Bernard Lenrow. The Blue Note’s pianist was played by Herman Chittison for most of Casey’s run, but Juan Hernandez and Teddy Wilson (formerly with the Benny Goodman Trio) were also on hand to tickle the ivories from time to time.

“Self Made Hero” (7/17/47), the first of two programs that I listened to at work last night, tells the story of a young man (Jack Grimes) named Jack Clifside (one “f”), who suffers from a self-esteem problem—so much so that he reports a fake shooting incident in an attempt to impress his shallow girlfriend Myrna. The cops quickly ascertain that Jack is running a scam, and are about to run the little crumb in when Casey intercedes on his behalf. When Casey offers to have a talk with the vacuous Myrna on Jack’s behalf, the wacky complications ensue, as witnessed in this exchange:

CASEY: Gimme a cup of black coffee, Ethelbert…
ETHELBERT: Okay, Casey…you want one, Miss Williams?
ANNIE: No thanks, Ethelbert…
ETHELBERT: Casey, you look like you got troubles…
CASEY (in disgust): Eh…
ANNIE: I’ll say he has, Ethelbert—in a neat red-headed package…trimmed with short skirts, and a pair of bobby sox…a hero-worship complex, and a…very unbashful personality…
CASEY: It isn’t funny, Ann…
(Annie giggles)
ETHELBERT: You’re talkin’ about a woman, huh?
CASEY: No, not a woman, no—a goofy seventeen year old that oughta be spanked…wish I had the nerve to do it…
ANNIE: She’s developed a crush on Casey—phones him at the office several times a day, and waits for him on the street so she can (sighs) gaze at him, and…sigh…
ETHELBERT: Casey, how did you get yourself into anything like that? You ain’t no cradle snatcher…
CASEY: Ethelbert, all I did was to call on her one afternoon last week in order to…uh…um…well, to try and square something for somebody else…
ETHELBERT: She isn’t the girl that Clifside kid set off the firecrackers on account of…?
ANNIE (giggling): That’s who…
ETHELBERT: Huh?
ANNIE: But Clifside doesn’t know yet that Casey squared things so beautifully…
(SFX: phone ringing)
ETHELBERT: Will you get it, Walter…?
WALTER: Yeah, sure…
CASEY: I put off telling him that…she won’t listen to anything that I say in his favor, because…well…he’s miserable enough as it is…you know, he phones me a couple times a day, too, Ethelbert—to ask how I’m making out with her…I can’t stall him much longer! Oh, I must have been nuts to get myself mixed up in something like this…

(Note: Jim Cox, in his invaluable reference Radio Crime Fighters, mentions that an OTR trivia expert recalls that Walter—an employee in the Blue Note’s kitchen—was often referred to but never heard on-air. “Self Made Hero” puts that myth to bed, particularly since he has a line or two more after the above scene, in which he informs Casey that the phone is for him.)

Jack is upset when he learns about Casey and Myrna, and vows to throw himself off Lover’s Leap—Casey and Annie go after him, and the three of them eventually end up witnessing a hit engineered by a notorious racketeer. The program concludes with our boy Jack becoming a hero for real. “Photo of the Dead” (7/24/47) is another solid episode: a friend of Casey’s not only ends up dead but swindled out of a hefty sum by a bogus swami. Annie then poses as a potential client in order to smoke him out, and to get a nice exclusive for the paper in the bargain.

For most of the series' run, Casey, Crime Photographer was sustained by CBS—except for brief periods of sponsorship by Anchor Hocking (1946-48), Toni Home Permanent (1948-49), and Philip Morris (1949-50). The show’s association with Anchor Hocking is particularly noteworthy in that most of this series’ extant episodes (approximately 70 or so) were obtained from transcriptions saved by the glass company. The Anchor Hocking episodes often feature an opening billboard spotlighting the show’s characters:

CASEY: You know, Ethelbert—you and I have a good chance to be famous…
ETHELBERT: How’s that, Casey?
CASEY: Well, I figure if a man’s known by the company he keeps…
ETHELBERT: Yeah?
CASEY: …then he ought to be known by the company that keeps him…
ETHELBERT: That makes sense…
CASEY: And the company that keeps us is…
ANNOUNCER (Tony Marvin): Anchor Hocking! The most famous name in glass…

Casey, Crime Photographer left CBS Radio November 16, 1950—and enjoyed a brief live television run (with Miner and Gibson in their radio roles) from April 19, 1951 to June 5, 1952. (Casey was originally played by Richard Carlyle, but was replaced by a young Darren McGavin two months later.) The series then returned to radio January 13, 1954, and hung on for another year before finally getting the axe April 22, 1955—the same day that Mr. & Mrs. North and Mr. Keen also turned in their gumshoes. I have to confess, though; when I first listened to Casey, I didn’t care for it much but the more shows I previewed, the more I became a convert. Strong characterizations and good scripting have made this OTR detective series a genuine winner.