History That Doesn't Suck - 191: Halloween Special V: “The War of the Worlds” on the Radio

Episode Date: October 20, 2025

“No more defenses. Our army is wiped out—artillery, air force, everything wiped out.” This is the story of the invasion of New Jersey. “The War of the Worlds” is a 1938 radio adaptation of an 1897 science fiction novel by H.G. Wells that details an alien invasion of Earth, a seminal work that popularized the term “Martian” and the theme of “first contact” in sci-fi. 23-year-old Orson Welles and his Mercury Theatre team were tasked with zhuzhing up the classic novel for their series of one-hour CBS radio plays, but unfortunately, the contemporary American setting, the shockingly realistic news bulletins, and the harrowing eyewitness accounts all added up to produce a panic among out-of-the-loop listeners.  Invasion, fictional or otherwise, was at the fore of many minds as Germany broke treaties and demanded more land—the Allies ceded the Sudetenland just one month prior to the broadcast. The stories of a mass hysteria that gripped the nation have been exaggerated, but have no fear: we’ll take you through the radio play and the aftermath so you can decide whether or not you believe it. ____ Connect with us on ⁠HTDSpodcast.com⁠ and go deep into ⁠episode bibliographies⁠ and ⁠book recommendations⁠ join discussions in our ⁠Facebook community⁠ get news and discounts from ⁠The HTDS Gazette⁠  come ⁠see a live show⁠ get ⁠HTDS merch⁠ or become an ⁠HTDS premium⁠ member for bonus episodes and other perks. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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Sign up today for a seven-day free trial at htdspodcast.com slash membership, or click the link in the episode notes. It's about 8.40 in the evening, October 30th, 1938. John and Estelle Paltz are spending the evening at home in their apartment at 8 East 15th Street in New York City. This small brick apartment is just a block east from Union Square, and above some small shops, like the Stampin Album Company of America, embarked to Cheney general contractors. It's not a particularly rich neighborhood. As the federal writer's project guide to New York puts it, quote, Union Square District belongs to the working people of New York, close quote. And that certainly describes John and Estelle. Theirs is a tenement

life. They have six dollars to their name. Yeah, the Great Depression isn't over. Definitely not for the pulses. That's why they've decided to stay in tonight. And in, in Enjoy a cozy fire and some music on the radio. While John gets comfy, Estelle turns on the set. It's already tuned to the local CBS station. I wonder, did they listen to something this afternoon? Perhaps they caught the musical stylings of the Texas Rangers, now helping to make country music a distinct genre.

Maybe they caught a performance by the New York Philharmonic. Well, whatever it was before, it's time to enjoy some more free broadcast entertainment tonight. But then the music stops. A news broadcaster, it seems, cuts in. He's talking about a strange object that crashed in New Jersey. Huh, that's not very far from them. The garden state is just across the Hudson.

Estelle asks. What is it? John answers. A news broadcast, surely. They listen closely, and it only grows more horrific as they hear more. As Estelle later recounts, My blood seemed to coagulate and stop, as one horrible thing after another happened right before us. New Jersey was in danger.

Raymond Boulevard. Newark, a few blocks from my sister's home, and her babies was filling with black smoke. The horror of it. John darts to the apartment roof to look for the black smoke while Estelle is frozen in front of the radio. Even though John can't see any black smoke or any evidence of what this broadcast has described, as an invasion, Estelle is robbed of her reason. As she puts it, only one thing remained to do.

Run. Fly. Get on the fastest thing on wheels and go as far and as quickly as our last of $6 would take us. The couple flees into the streets, only stopping to warn a stranger of the coming invasion as they dash toward Penn Station on 34th Street. They buy tickets to take them to Hartford,

hoping that getting out into the open country might buy them some temporary safety. To quote Estelle. Anywhere but wait to get trapped in downtown Manhattan and choke to death like rats. Once aboard the train, they can finally collapse hand in hand. The terrified couple scans the car.

No one seems to be in a panic. They must not have heard yet. Just imagine the panicked mobs once word breaks out. John and Estelle decide to keep their secret to themselves. No need to. But wait, what's going on? The train is stopping.

Did word just arrive about the invasion? Has it spread out of New Jersey already? Oh, God, they're trapped again. John finds two young college students and asks them what's going on. But as he does, he can't help himself. He must explain his and Estelle's panic. New Jersey has been invaded and it's in ruins. They heard it on the radio.

Just as Estelle feared, a crowd is gathering around her and John. Someone runs to ask the conductor why they've stopped and returns saying that some woman needed an ambulance. But no, that can't be. Someone shouts, he's just saying that to keep us called. The panic is growing. Some say that Estelle and John are lying or that they're mad. But with everything going on in the world,

invasions in Europe, invasions in Asia, could they be right? An invasion here in America. Suddenly, John shouts to Estelle. Who is Orson Wells? Estelle stops. She knows that name. She's listened to many of the radio plays that Orson wrote and started.

She shouts out. Find a paper. Finding an old, trampled issue of the New York Tribune. The panicked train car tears through the paper until they find it written in plain evening. 8 p.m. Orson Wells near Creek Theater. War of the Worlds.

Welcome to History That Doesn't Suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and I'd like to tell you a story. Happy Halloween, everyone, and welcome to our fifth annual Halloween special. As you likely have noticed, I generally prefer to find a spooky topic that aligns with where HTDS is in the story of America. And given where we are currently, it just makes good sense to bring you the story of the famous, or perhaps infamous, War the World's radio broadcast. If you're not familiar with it, by all means, let me fill you in. Performed by the Mercury Theater on the air, this Orson Wells retelling in 1938 of the classic turn-of-the-century Martian invasion fiction originally by H.G. Wells, side note,

no relation, is probably one of the most famous examples of mass hysteria, or at least reported mass hysteria in U.S. history. As the story goes, many Americans had happily tuned in to hear the popular Chase and Sanborn Hour, featuring the ventriloquist antics of Edgar Bergen and his puppet, Charlie McCarthy. But some switched away when a less than stellar music act came on, landing them on the War of the World's broadcast, the already started broadcast. Having missed CBS's opening disclaimer that clearly stated the program was a work of fiction, these unsuspecting listeners, thoughtless dial twisting. You know, the radio, video equivalent of channel serving on a TV or mindlessly scrolling through social media,

stumbled into a shockingly realistic news-style radio drama. And just in time, too, the Martians had landed in New Jersey, the state militia was being wiped out, and New Yorkers were choking on clouds of poison gas released by the alien war machines. The day after the broadcast, the New York Times headline declared, radio listeners in panic, taking war drama as fact. Our friends John and Estelle Pulse weren't alone in thinking that the broadcast was a real news report. Tales abound of such confused and terrified people, including 63-year-old William Dock of New Jersey, who took to the streets with his shotgun searching for the Martians invading his home state.

Now, after the broadcast, there are studies about the panic and studies about those studies. Some say that America experienced widespread hysteria. others say that the panic never happened and was made up out of whole cloth by newspapers exaggerating the matter as we often find the truth is in the middle to quote historian Abrad Schwartz

the vast majority of listeners understood the broadcast correctly and those few who were frightened did not passively accept what came to them over the airwaves close quote but exaggerated panic or not the aftermath and reaction to the supposed panic

was real as the war of the war of the world's broadcasts concluded at nine o'clock on that fateful night, October 30th, 1938, mischief night, as some called this Halloween Eve. Police and reporters swarmed Orson Wells and the producers at CBS. They faced an investigation by the Federal Communications Commission, and this led to a press conference at which Orson put on the most contrite performance of his career, telling reporters, of course, we are deeply shocked and deeply regretful of the results of last night's broadcast. While we won't hear that story today, the only consequence that this gifted storyteller saw was a brilliant Hollywood career, which included directing Citizen Kane and playing

Harry Lyme in The Third Man. Yes, our tale is Orson's brilliant broadcast of the War of the Worlds. That's what I would like to recreate for you today. But before we join Orson and the Mercury Theater for their scripted alien invasion, let's take just a moment. to get a touch more context to help us understand why so many people were fooled and to get a brief biography of today's guest storyteller, Mr. Orson Wells. Once that's done, we'll then tune into the CBS broadcast, or at least a shortened HDDS version of it. The power of the radio in early to mid-20th century America is truly incredible. Of course, we know this from past episodes. We witnessed the technology spread with the nation's growing electric infrastructure

in episode 156, and watch it bring entertainment and the world into people's living rooms in a way never previously imaginable. Speaking of entering people's living rooms, we also know that's the MO behind President Franklin D. Roosevelt's fireside chats. Across several episodes, we've seen how FDR speaks to the average American in a way that no president ever has before, thereby making the seemingly distant and inaccessible executive of the nation feel like an intimate friend. Add to that, music programs and ball games, and these radios, which are cheap to buy and free to use minus the electricity, a true selling point in the midst of the Great Depression, are nothing less than a godsend and true marvel of modern technology. But it's not just

prearranged speeches and entertainment. Radio brings an option for news that neither newspapers, or film reels can even come close to touching live reporting. Back in March, 1932, when audiences found themselves desperate for updates about the kidnapping of the baby of the national aviation hero Charles Lucky Lindbergh. They turned to their radios for the most up-to-day info. And when the child's remains were found that May, the whole nation mourned together as the news came over the radio waves. Okay, so the radio breaks news. But where is it? is the line between news and reenactments that blurs a touch with news shows like the March of Time. This and other programs in the 1930s broadcast both live and recreated events. Americans can

hardly tell the difference sometimes. This happens not only with recreations of the Lindberg kidnapping trials, but also with Herbert Morrison's emotional, riveting coverage of the 1937 Hindenburg crash. Remember that tragedy from episode 1 88? Well, Herbert records it on site live, but it doesn't air live. It's broadcast later as a recording. Meanwhile, Americans are also used to breaking news interrupting their sports and other entertainment programs, especially, as we've seen in our last few episodes, with military invasions becoming commonplace around the world. In fact, it was just a month before Orson Well's Martian invasion of October 1938 that Americans heard about the Munich Agreement appeasing Adolf Hitler by giving him the Sudaten land, an event I trust

you recall from episode 187. It's also interesting to note that just 10 months after the War of the Worlds, the Nazis use a falsifying radio broadcast to justify their impending invasion of Poland. You might recall that event from episode 187 as well. There's no evidence or and Wells' work inspired them, of course, but it does show how, even on opposite sides of the globe, radio has become a powerful tool, not just for entertainment and real information, but even manipulation. In short, this is a time when radio is king, when news broadcasts are taken very seriously, even if the line between reenactment and live news can get blurry, and when entertainment programs regularly get interrupted for breaking news. And that is the perfect

recipe to lead some Americans, particularly those who tuned in late, thereby missing the This Is Fiction Preface, to take Orson Well's scientific sounding talk of a Martian invasion as the gospel truth. And now that we have our radio situation sorted out, ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce our creative broadcaster, the one and only, Orson Wells. Born in 1915 to a concert pianist mother and a father who had made a fortune from inventing a popular bicycle land, George Orson Wells spent his earliest years in Wisconsin. But that changed when his father's alcoholism led to his parents' separation. Orson moved with his mother to Chicago, but that too ended abruptly when she died of hepatitis shortly after his ninth birthday.

Returning to live with his wealthy but less than responsible father, Orson reached 11 years of age and was then enrolled at the prestigious Todd School for Boys in Woodstock, Illinois. There, under the mentorship of his teacher, Roger Hill, Orson found the inspiration to pursue performance, taking to the stage and even experimenting with radio acting. But alas, just after Christmas in 1930, 15-year-old Orson suffered the loss of his only remaining parent. Kidney failure took his father. After finishing school the following year, he took his inheritance. on a tour of Europe. In Dublin, he boldly walked into the Gate Theater, claiming to be a famous Broadway actor. Whether they believed him or not, he soon found himself performing on stage. Returning to the States, it's during a performance of Romeo and Juliet that Orson

caught the eye of John Hausman, who worked with the Federal Theater Project's Negro Theater Unit in New York. Ah, yes, you may recall the WPA's many arts-related projects back in Episode 175. Well, Orson blew the top-off New York's theater scene with an adaptation of Macbeth featuring a black cast and replacing Scottish witchcraft with Haitian voodoo. By 1937, he and his company had acquired their own stage and named it the Mercury Theater, after magazine that happened to be in the room at the time. Meanwhile, Orson made a pretty penny on the radio with shows like The March of Time and as the voice of Noir Detective, The Shadow.

If you don't know the answer yourself, ask an older relative sometime. Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? Without missing a beat, they'll probably respond. The Shadow knows. Combining theater and radio, Orson then made a deal to produce radio dramas for CBS under the Mercury Theater banner.

adapting classic literature into one-hour radio plays. Ah, that brings us to our tale. It's under these circumstances that Howard Koch ends up with the task of adapting H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds about a Martian Invasion in early 20th century England into a radio play about a Martian invasion in New Jersey and New York in 1938. After a week of sleepless nights struggling with the script and working with Jack Hausman and others from Mercury,

Howard finally manages to land a script that meets Orson's strict expectations for drama. With a finished script, several rehearsals under their belt, and no real hopes for their Halloween broadcast, the Mercury Theater was ready to bring Martians to Earth. Little did they know the outsized impact their creative work would have nationwide. So without further ado, let's go back to the start of this night. And this time, rather than listen with John and Estelle, Paltz, let's go into the studio to watch the performance. And remember, what you're about to witness is a broadcast of fiction. It's seconds before 8 p.m. October 30, 1938.

We're in Studio 1 on the 20th floor of the Columbia Broadcasting System's 24-story white-brick skyscraper at 485 Madison Avenue in New York City. Choking down a glass of pineapple juice, the evening star, the 23-year-old, handsome and haggard actor, Orson Wells, steps up to his podium and dons his headphones. In less than a minute, he'll be doing what he was born to do, perform. With the sleeves rolled up on his sweat-soaked dress shirt, his eyes dart across the script on his music stand one last time.

The crew runs cables around the might. microphones facing the 10 Mercury Theater actors below Orson. They warm their voices and ready their sound effects right next to the music conductor, Bernard Herman, as he warms up his 27-piece orchestra. With the countdown beginning, Orson signals to their announcer Dan Seymour to start. He steps up to the large black microphone, marked CBS, takes a deep breath, and kicks off this radio drama. The Columbia Broadcasting System and its affiliated stations

present Orson Wells and the Mercury Theater on the Air In the War of the World by H.G. Wells. Ladies and gentlemen, the director of the Mercury Theater, and star of these broadcast, Orson Welles. We know now that in the early years of the 20th century, this world was being watched closely by intelligences greater than man's,

and yet as mortal as his own. We know now that as human beings visit themselves about their various concerns, they were scrutinized and studied. yet across an immense ethereal gulf minds that are to our minds as ours are to the beasts in the jungle intellects

vast, cool and unsympathetic regarded this earth with envious eyes and slowly and surely drew their plans against us we take you now to the Meridian room in the Hotel Park Plaza in downtown New York where you will be entertained by the music of Raymond Rakello and his orchestra. Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt our program of dance music to bring you a special bulletin from the Intercontinental Radio News.

At 20 minutes before 8 central time, Professor Farrell of the Mount Jennings of Observatory, Chicago, Illinois, reports observing several explosions of incandescent gas occurring at regular intervals on the planet Mars. The spectroscope indicates the gas to be hydrogen and moving toward the Earth with enormous velocity. We now return you to the music of Ramon Raquelho, playing for you in the meridian room of the Park Plaza Hotel, situated in downtown New York. The radio drama continues in this way.

A short piece of music plays, until it's interrupted by a special news bullet in announcing the discovery of astronomical disturbances on Mars. And oh, is it realistic? It's easy to see how a listener not really paying attention or perhaps someone just coming to the program while mindlessly doing some dial twisting could mistake this for a typical music program

getting interrupted by real breaking news. The radio drama carries on as the newsman introduce two characters with more information coming in about the explosions on Mars. The first of these live radio reporters is Carl Phillips, who sent to Princeton, New Jersey to interview eminent astronomer Professor Richard Pearson.

While Professor Pearson is happy to explain that there is no life on Mars, the two are suddenly interrupted by more news that a large meteorite has crashed at the nearby town of Grover's Mill, New Jersey. The two men are able to travel the 11 miles in the space of a music break, where they are ready to investigate this odd occurrence further.

We take you now to Grover's Mill, New Jersey. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Carl Phillips again, out at the Wilmouth Farm, Grover's Mill, New Jersey. I wish I could convey the atmosphere, the background of this fantastic scene. Hundreds of cars are parked in a field in back of us and the police are trying to rope off the roadway leading into the farm, but it's no use. They're breaking right through. Cars headlights throw an enormous spotlight on the pit where the objects have buried. But just a minute, something's happening. ladies and gentlemen this terrific

this end of the thing is beginning to flake off the top is beginning to rotate like a screw and this thing must be hollow he's moving look at it! Keep those men back! Keep those idiots back!

Take off! The top's blue! Look out there! Ladies and gentlemen this is the most terrifying thing I've ever witnessed. Wait a minute. Someone, calling someone or something, I can see, tearing out of that black hole, two luminous discs,

or the eyes, it might be a face, might be almost a bit. Oh, wait! We are bringing you an eyewitness account of what's happening on the Wilmuth Farm, Grover's Mill, New Jersey. We now return you to Carl Phillips at Grover's Mill. Ladies and gentlemen, here I am, back of a stone wall that joins Mr. Wilma's garden. From here, I get a sweep of the whole scene.

I'll give you every detail as long as I can talk and as long as I can see. More state police have arrived that drawing up a cordon in front of the pit. About 30 of them. No need to push the crowd back now. They're willing to keep their distance. The captain is inferring with someone. Captain and two policemen advance with something in their hands. I can say it now. It's a white hexif tied to a pole. Flag of truce. Those creatures know what that means. What anything means. Wait a minute. Something's happening. Humped shape is rising out of the pit. I can make out a small beam of light against a mirror. What's there?

He's a jet of flame springing from the mirror and it leaps right at the advancing men. He strikes them head on. Lord, they're turning in a flame. The whole field's colored by the woods that flies the gas tanked, tank to the automobiles spreading everywhere. Coming this way now, about 20 yards to my right. The whole studio sits in silence as Orson's pregnant pause commands attention,

letting the airwaves go deadly, shockingly silent. While listeners cross the nation, like Estelle Pulse, are certain they've heard Carl Phillips's last words. Orson continues to hold silence for a full six seconds before letting the actor Carl Frank continue the tale. And oh, do his words leave listeners in suspense. Ladies and gentlemen, due to circumstances beyond our control, we are unable to continue the broadcast from Grover's Mill. Evidently, there's some difficulty with our field transmission. However, we will return to that point at the earliest opportunity. You are listening to a CBS presentation of Orson Wells and the Mercury Theater on the air

in an original dramatization of the War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells. The performance will continue after a brief intermission. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. It's no surprise that listeners nationwide are reeling from the apparent death of Carl Phillips. The actor who plays the radio newsman, Frank Reddick, had prepared for his role by listening to a recording of the actual broadcast of the crashing of the Hindenburg Zeppelin, which also happened in New Jersey just a year ago in 1937. But now, in Studio One, actor Carl Frank brings the audience back from the most terrifying piano. interlude up their lives. In his role as an unnamed newsman, he announces the death of on-the-ground reporter Carl Phillips. He then shares news that the state militia is launching a

counterstrike. And then, as Captain Lansing of the Signal Corps attacks with 7,000 men, the radio audience listens with rapt attention as this cylinder suddenly grows taller than the trees. Captain Lansing responds by calling for a spotlight. But then it's nothing but silence. And at this point, our in-studio newsman returns with horrible news. Ladies and gentlemen, I have a grave announcement to make. Incredible as it may seem, both the observations of science and the evidence of our eyes lead to the inescapable assumption that those strange beings who landed in the Jersey farmlands tonight are the vanguard of an invading army from the planet Mars. The battle which took place tonight at Grove of Mills

has ended in one of the most startling defeat ever suffered by an army in modern times. 7,000 men armed with rifles and machine guns pitted against a single fighting machine of the invaders from Mars. 120 known survivors. The rest strewn over the battle area from Grover's Mill to Plainsborough

crushed and trampled a death under the metal feet of the monster or burned to cinders by its heat ray. Marshal law prevails throughout New Jersey and eastern Pennsylvania. At this time we take you to Washington for a special broadcast on the national emergency, the Secretary of the Interior.

Citizens of the nation, I shall not try to conceal the gravity of the situation that confronts the country, nor the concern of your government in protecting the lives and property of its people. However, I wish to impress upon you, private citizens and public officials, all of you, the urgent,

need of calm and resourceful action. Bracing our faith in God, we must continue the performance of our duties each and every one of us so that we may confront this destructive adversary with a nation united, courageous, and consecrated to the preservation of human supremacy on this earth. I thank you. The military responds to the advancing Martians with an artillery attack. Listening in, audiences here at the 22nd Field Artillery Score direct hit, only to have the Martians switch to spreading a thick, choking black smoke

that, even with their gas masks, leaves the artillerymen coughing until they just go quiet. From the top of the broadcasting building, New York City, our unnamed newsmen reports on the approaching Martians as New York evacuates the hopeless situation. As he reports, No more defenses. Our army is wiped out. Artillery, Air Force, everything wiped out. As more reports come in across the country of additional cylinders falling,

smoke spreads across the Big Apple, killing everyone in its path. As it comes for our report, order. There's no one left to cut to. The only sounds are those of people in terror. A ham radio breaks the silence. Hopelessly, a voice asks across the quiet airwaves. Isn't there anyone on the air? Isn't there anyone? We then get another reminder that this is just a play, not a real story. Some hear this message. Others are already on the run. Whether they're listening or not, the rest of the radio drama belongs to Orson. Coming back to the role of Professor Richard Pearson, the astronomer, who managed to survive

the attack at Grover's Mill, and it now relates his experience through a diary. As I set down these notes on paper, I'm obsessed by the thought that I may be the last living man on Earth. I've been hiding in this empty house near Grover's Mill, a small island. of daylight cut off by the black smoke from the rest of the world. All that happened before the arrival of these monstrous creatures in the world now seems part of another life. My wife, my colleagues, my students, my books, my observatory, my... My...

My world. Where are they? Writing down my daily life, I tell myself I shall preserve human history between the dark covers of this little book that was meant to record the movements of the stars, but to write I must live, and to live I must eat. Presently, with an odd feeling of being watched, I caught sight of something crouching in a doorway. I made a step towards, and it rose up and became a man. A man armed with a large knife. Stop! Where do you come from?

I come from... For many places. A long time ago from Princeton. Princeton, huh? That's near Grover's Mill. Yes. Grover's Milk. There's no food here.

This is my country All this end of town down the river There's only food who won Where were you? You're in a uniform Yeah, what's left of it I was in the militia National Guard That's good

There wasn't any war Any more than there's war Between men and ants Yes, but we're eatable ants What is there left? Life, that's what I want to live And so do you

We're not going to be exterminated And I don't mean to be caught either tamed and fattened and bred like an ox. What are you going to do? I got it all figured out. We live underground. I've been thinking about the sewers. Under New York, there are miles and miles of them.

The main ones, they're big enough for anybody. And there's cellars, vaults, underground storerooms, railway tunnels, subways. You begin to see, huh? We'll get a bunch of strong men together. No weakens. That rubbish. Out. We've got to make safe places for us to stay in, see?

Get all the books we can. Science books. That's where men like you come in, see? We raid the museums. We'll even spy on the Martians. May not be so much we have to learn before. Just imagine this. Four or five of their own fighting machines suddenly start off.

Heat rays right and left. Not a Martian in them. Not a Martian in them. But men, men who've learned the way how. May even in our time. Gee, imagine having one of them lovely things with a heat ray wide and free. We'd turn it on Martians, we'd turn it on men.

We'd bring everybody down on their knees. That's your plan. Yeah. You, me. You more of us. We'd own the world. I see. Hey.

Hey, what's the matter? Where are you going? Not to your world. Bye, stranger. Well, after parting with the artilleryman, I came at last at last the Holland Tunnel, entered that silent tube. Anxious to know the fate of the great city on the other side of the Hudson. Cautiously, I came out of the tunnel and made my way up Canal Street.

Suddenly, my eyes were attracted to the immense flock of blackbird. that, and there before my eyes, stark and silent, lay the Martians with the hungry birds pecking and tearing brown shreds of flesh in their dead bodies. Later, when their bodies were examined in laboratories, it was found that they were killed by the putrefactive and diseased bacteria against which their systems were unprepared. Clayne, after all, man's defenses had failed. I have the humblest thing that God, as wisdom is put upon this earth.

Maybe that the destruction of the Martians is only a reprieve to them and not to us. The future ordained, perhaps. While Orson isn't fully aware of what his broadcast has done, he's got an idea. CBS executive Davidson Taylor has already tried to pull the plug on the broadcast after learning that their switchboards have been overwhelmed with phone calls to the studio and hearing tales of mass hysteria in reaction to the broadcast. Nonetheless, show producer Jack Hausman managed to fend off the executives, allowing the show. show to finish. But neither the Mercury Theater actors nor its crew are ready for the restless night and weeks that await them. Similarly, Americans as a whole are not ready for the restless

years that await them. They don't yet know that the tears of war that they just experienced in a science fiction radio drama will soon return in the years ahead, when they'll listen to reports of real American soldiers, sailors, pilots, and Marines fighting in the largest, most technologically advanced war the world has ever seen. Not a war of the worlds, but certainly a world war. But that, of course, is a story, or rather the story, to come in following episodes. So for now, I'll defer to our brilliant guest storyteller, Orson Wells, as he signs off from our Halloween broadcast. Take it away, Orson. This is Orson Wells, ladies and gentlemen. Out of character to assure you that the war of the world has no further significance than as the holiday offering it was intended to be.

The Mercury Theater's own radio version of dressing up in a sheet and jumping out of a bush and saying boo. So goodbye, everybody, and remember, please, for the next day or so, the terrible lesson you learned tonight. That grinning, glowing, globular, invader of your living room is an inhabitant of the pumpkin patch, and if your doorbell rings and nobody's there, that was no Martian, it's Halloween. History That Doesn't Suck is created and hosted by me, Greg Jackson,

with guest performances by Orson Wells and the Mercury Theater. Episode researched and written by Greg Not a Martian Jackson and Human Scum, Will King. War of the World's script written by Howard Koch and based on the novel H.G. Wells. Production by Airship. Sound design by Molly Bach. Audio editing by Muhammad Shazade. Theme music composed by Greg Jackson. Arrangement and additional composition by Lindsay Graham the Bairship. For bibliography of all primary and secondary sources consulted in writing this episode, visit htbspodcast.com.

HGDS is supported by fans at htbspodcast.com slash membership. My gratitude to kind souls providing the funding that helps us keep going. Thank you. And a special thanks to our page. whose monthly gift puts them at producer status. Ahmaud Chapman, Andrew Nissen, Anthony Pope, Art Lang, Bob Stinnon, Bonnie Brooks, Brian Goodson, Bruce Hibbert, Charles Klandendon, Charlie Majes, Christopher Merchant, Christopher Pullman, Cindy Rosenthal, Colleen Martin, Dan G, David Rifkin, Durante Spencer, Donald Moore, Elizabeth Chris Jansen, Ellen Stewart, Ernie Lomaster, G203, Jeffrey Nelson, George J. Sherwood, Gareth,

Henry Bruges, Holly Hamilton, Jake Gilbroth, James Bledsoe, James Blue, James Schlender, Jared Zungora, Jeffrey Moots, Jennifer Ruth, Jeremy Wells, Jessica Poppin, Joe Doves, John Dover, John Hover, John Keller, John Leveris, John Redovich, Jonathan Schep, Jordan Corbett, Josh Wood, Joshua Steiner, J.P. Brooks, Justin May, Justin Spriggs, Karen Bartholome, Carl and Elizabeth Sallie, Carl Hindle, Ken Colder, Kim R, Kristen Pratt, Kyle Decker, L. Paul Goringer, Laura Norman, Lawrence Newbauer, Linda Cunningham, Mark Ellis Marcia Smith, Matt Siegel, Nate Seconder, Nick Capparrow, Noah Hoff, O.NW. Sedlock, Patrick Day, Reese Humphreys Wadsworth, Rick Brown, Rob Drozovich, Sam Holtzman, Sarah Traywick, Sharon Theson, Sean Baines, Stacey Ritter, Steve Williams, The Creepy Girl, Thomas Churchill, Thomas Matthew Edwards, Thomas Sabbath, Tim and Sarah Turner, Todd Curran, Tom Bestafka, Wesley McKeague, Zach Green, Zach Jackson. Join me in two weeks, or I'd like to tell you a story.