Powers Gouraud
1950

Powers Gouraud, "The Old Night Owl," began some of his earlier nightly commentaries on WCAU radio, which was sponsored by Yellow Cab, with "Yel-low, night owls and night owlettes, yel-low!"

Tom LaBrum was a pal of Powers and was in the thick of all those whom needed media attention. There were nine daily papers earlier in the 20th century: The Inquirer, Record, Bulletin, Telegraph, Times, Public Ledger, Evening Public Ledger, Press and North American. Tom, during his heyday, was one of the nation's foremost theatrical press agents. His assignments kept him hopping, along with his colleague, Powers Gouraud. Powers was making use of that new journalistic medium, radio. They both found time to visit the nightspots that sprang up everywhere. These were the speakeasies spawned by Prohibition. The Walton Roof was a favorite spot under the direction of Jack Lynch and his friend Evan Burroughs Fontaine, and guests there could be entertained by Sophie Tucker, Georgie Jessel, Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin.

Powers St. George Gouraud was born in 1881 in England, although both his parents were American. Powers' father was George Edward Gouraud (often called "The Colonel"), an United States Civil War veteran. George was Thomas Edison's British sales representative and the family lived in Little Menlo, Beulahhill, Upper Norwood. Colonel Gouraud's voice recorded on Edison Wax Cylinders (there are at least ten different ones) is one of the oldest known sound recordings in existence anywhere in the world. These recordings were made inside the Gouraud home. On July 14, 1888, an article in the Illustrated London News reported that Edison had sent to Col. Gouraud a message via cylinder. The article said that it was "a private letter from Mr. Edison to Colonel Gouraud, consisting of about two hundred words, treating of business and family affairs. Mr. Edison’s voice was recognized by every hearer in Colonel Gouraud’s house, including a child seven years old." That child, by the way, was Powers Gouraud.

From October 7, 1901 to December 2, 1901, Powers was a featured player in a music theatrical production. It was called The New Yorkers and was performed at the Herald Square Theater on Broadway.

On February 12, 1922, Powers wrote an article for the Philadelphia Public Ledger. It was called "The Amazing Aimee Gouraud." Aimee was one of his sisters-in law. However, Aimee was married at least twice before. It has been said that two men Porter Ashe and Henry Gillig played cards for her hand in marriage. Ashe won. They were married and divorced a year later. Then, she married Gillig. That union lasted a little longer.

According to Broadcast Pioneers member Sam Bushman, Leon Levy, co-owner of WCAU Radio found Powers working at the John Wanamakers' Department Store. No, he wasn't a broadcaster on WOO Radio (the Wanamakers broadcast outlet). He was the head of the floor walkers for the store. Sort of a Captain Peacock for the Delaware Valley.

One of seven children and named after his uncle, the Rev. Horatio Nelson Powers, D.D., Powers Gouraud had a sandpaper voice, a British accent and assorted gasps, grunts and chuckles.

Stan Lee Broza, the first president of the Broadcast Pioneers of Philadelphia actually was the one whom hired Powers back in 1929. Powers liked everything scripted, usually in longhand. Broadcast Pioneers member Harry Harris (who later gained fame at the Evening Bulletin) was doing some freebie work at WCAU while he was still in college at Temple University. In the mid and late thirties, Harry started writing for Gouraud, a knowledgable man but one whom liked everything prepared and Harry wrote the scripts. By the way, it was rumored that Powers has so many books that when not in use, his bathtub was used to store some of them.

During the Second World War, Gouraud, a popular night club and benefit emcee, appeared on stage at the Bucks County Playhouse. He was in their production of "Lightnin." During one broadcast, Powers Gouraud recalled, "Mae West lost one of her 'falsies,' an eyelash.

Powers was also an avid sports fan and a patron of the arts. His broadcasts were mostly live and heard over WCAU Radio. His interests were many. In the twenties, he wrote a song called "JE T'AIME" MEANS I LOVE YOU." It was made famous by Ben Bernie and his Orchestra. It was his only successful tune. However, he did write the words to the song "Another Language." The music was done by Charles John Borrelli.

Gouraud's air presence spanned three decades in Philadelphia broadcasting and he was highly thought of and well respected in the broadcast community. In May of 1951, he had a serious heart attack. This took him off the radio airwaves until the end of October of the same year. While he was recovering, he decided to grow a pencil-thin moustache. About that, he had remarked, "Too bad that the show isn't on television, so that people can note the remarkable effect." However, about TV he then added a definite no and then stated, "I'm too old a dog for some new tricks."

At the time of his return to the WCAU mike, he elected to cut his daily show to just Tuesdays and Thursdays. When he returned (on Tuesday October 30, 1951), his show was about "Black Chiffon," which had opened the night before at the Locust Theater. Just after his illness, veteran WCAU announcer, then a movie star, Paul Douglas sat in front of the WCAU equipment and spoke with Powers via telephone from the hospital. It may have been the first remote from a hospital in the Philadelphia area.

Powers also, at least for awhile, had a morning broadcast. On Tuesday, September 16, 1941, Gouraud had a 5 minute program at 7:25 am called "Brevities." In late November of 1950, Powers was on from 10 minutes daily from 11:15 to 11:25 pm, Sunday through Friday.

In the Spring of 1934, Powers Gouraud wrote:

Radio dramatic criticism has its humorous side, also on occasions, a tragic angle. It has become quite the vogue in Philadelphia lately for members of a dramatic company, after an opening night, to give a radio party and listen to my ether reviews. Sometimes, of course, it leads to embarrassing situations. One night for example, it was my painful duty to give a particular play a very severe verbal chastisement. Later in the evening I met one of the cast and asked him how my comments had been received by his co-workers. He answered that the thespian listeners stood the roast very well, with the exception of the leading lady, who fainted.

Another time I hammered a certain play more than the players. The husband of the woman who perpetrated this particular atrocity gave a large after-theatre party to his friends, including the newspaper critics, the producer and the director. He called on me the next day, very angry, and said I had made him look ridiculous in front of his guests. He charged that I had ridiculed his wife, and bet me a new hat that I was wrong, that his wife's brainchild would thrive on Broadway and run in New York for six months. I won the Stetson by a wide margin. Milady's masterpiece expired after three performances.

However, to err is human, and I must acknowledge that I made one pretty bad guess last season. I hailed a drama as a hit, predicted a long run and raved plenty. This prognostication was very much all wrong, and the play went straight from Philadelphia to the storehouse.

Frequently, radio reviewing of first nights is a happy occasion. As when one rushes to the studio after an opening that looks like sure-fire, "a natural," as we say in the parlance of show business. It didn't take much imagination to foresee the box office possibilities of "As Thousands Cheer," "Pursuit of Happiness," "No More Ladies" or "Dodsworth." All of them opened this season in Philadelphia. On such occasions, lover of the theater that I am, it gives me a great kick to be able to tell my listeners the good news, and hail another hit. For the so-so, or in-betweeners, lukewarm praise goes over the air, but I do always try and make allowances for opening performances.

I try to visualize potential successes, and I do my best to give the producers an even break, without misleading the public. There is no doubt that playgoers like radio theatrical reviews, and performers themselves, who in the old days used to sit up for the morning papers, can now go to bed with a rough idea as to whether their latest show is going to "click" or "flop."

Powers was said to have a laugh which was really a chuckle. In fact, a few nicknamed him "Chuckles." It was said that his laugh was very close to his dear friend, George M. Cohan. You can listen to Gouraud interviewing Cohan on July 3, 1936 on our website. It also has a photo of Powers and George Cohan. It has been written that there was no one closer to George M. Cohan than the ol' Night Owl, himself.

On many of his WCAU broadcasts, the announcer that introduced him was Hugh Walton, an old WCAU radio hand. Walton, as many will remember, did the announcing on "The Children's Hour," hosted by our first President, Stan Lee Broza.

Powers was married to Irma Schlesinger Hunt and had a son, Jackson (named after Powers' older brother), nicknamed Jack who was born on September 7, 1918 in New York City. Powers Gouraud passed away on Friday, September 17, 1954. His son, Jackson died on August 17, 2002

From the official archives of the Broadcast Pioneers of Philadelphia
Written and researched by Broadcast Pioneers member Gerry Wilkinson
Additional Information supplied by Al Walton, Hugh's son
© 2002, All Rights Reserved

The e-mail address of the Broadcast Pioneers of Philadelphia is pioneers@broadcastpioneers.com