sound wave signal
noise
signal to noise ratio
amplitude
sync sound
wild sound
mos
sound track
music bed

stereo
mono

5:1
7:1
7:2
sub woofer
ambient sound
wild sound
sync sound

microphones
speakers
decibels
pitch
amplitude

analog-to-digital
digital-to-analog
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• load Audacity
• plug in the microphone
• open Audacity go to "edit/preferences"
• choose the Audio I/O tab
• select the recording device
  • the usb microphone
• select channels
  • mono
  • stereo
• choose the Directories tab
• choose the storage device
  • e:data
• to record press the red triangle
• to stop recording, press the yellow square
• save your project under "file/save project as"

• print three copies of your narration
• use Audacity and a microphone to record your narration
  • use the Holleywood protocal when recording
    1. ask for quiet (please)
    2. roll to record
    3. slate the take "scene and take"
    4. call "action" to start the performance
    5. call "cut" to stop the recording
  • Maximize the signal, minimize the noise
    • deliver your performance in the microphone's pickup area (in front of the microphone)
    • do not touch the microphone
    • do not "step on" your signal (wait a beat after "action" before performing)
• save your Audacity project files to the E drive on your computer

• after you are done recording, make a copy of your file to your storage area

• Shooting Sound - Radio the Theatre of the Mind
  • First came radio! Invented 1860ss
  • First radio station in the USA
  • first radio network in USA
  • Orson Wells - War of the Worlds 1938
  • audio programs
    • Adobe Soundbooth
    • Audacity
    • Sound Effects (SDFX) are in the D:\SFX - Sound Effects - Machines And Movements folder

What do you know about Audio?

Before television, there was radio. Radio was popularly called, "The Theatre of the Mind." Audiences would listen to stories read over the air waves called radio plays. The voices of professional actors, music, and sound effects made these stories come alive in the imaginations of the listeners. In one case, people confused the news with entertainment to the extent that a large audience thought that Earth was being invaded by beings for another world. The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells. which was broadcast by Orson Welles on October 30th 1938 caused a real panic.

Here is the actual radio show.

The Original New York Times Article
October 31, 1938

A wave of mass hysteria seized thousands of radio listeners between 8:15 and 9:30 o'clock last night when a

broadcast of a dramatization of H. G. Wells's fantasy, "The War of the Worlds," led thousands to believe

that an interplanetary conflict had started with invading Martians spreading wide death and destruction in

New Jersey and New York.

The broadcast, which disrupted households, interrupted religious services, created traffic jams and clogged

communications systems, was made by Orson Welles, who as the radio character, "The Shadow," used to give

"the creeps" to countless child listeners. This time at least a score of adults required medical treatment

for shock and hysteria.

In Newark, in a single block at Heddon Terrace and Hawthorne Avenue, more than twenty families rushed out of

their houses with wet handkerchiefs and towels over their faces to flee from what they believed was to be a

gas raid. Some began moving household furniture.

Throughout New York families left their homes, some to flee to near-by parks. Thousands of persons called

the police, newspapers and radio stations here and in other cities of the United States and Canada seeking

advice on protective measures against the raids.

The program was produced by Mr. Welles and the Mercury Theatre on the Air over station WABC and the Columbia

Broadcasting System's coast-to-coast network, from 8 to 9 o'clock.

The radio play, as presented, was to simulate a regular radio program with a "break-in" for the material of

the play. The radio listeners, apparently, missed or did not listen to the introduction, which was: "The

Columbia Broadcasting System and its affiliated stations present Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre on the

Air in `The War of the Worlds' by H. G. Wells."

They also failed to associate the program with the newspaper listening of the program, announced as "Today:

8:00-9:00--Play: H. G. Wells's `War of the Worlds'--WABC." They ignored three additional announcements made

during the broadcast emphasizing its fictional nature.

Mr. Welles opened the program with a description of the series of which it is a part. The simulated program

began. A weather report was given, prosaically. an announcer remoarked that the program would be continued

from a hotel, with dance music. for a few moments a dance program was given in the usual manner. Then there

was a "break-in" with a "flash" about a professor at an observatory noting a series of gas explosions on the

planet Mars.

News bulletins and scene broadcasts followed, reporting, with the technique in which the radio had reported

actual events, the landing of a "meteor" near Princeton N. J., "killing" 1,500 persons, the discovery that

the "meteor" was a "metal cylinder" containing strange creatures from Mars armed with "death rays" to open

hostilities against the inhabitants of the earth.

Despite the fantastic nature of the reported "occurrences," the program, coming after the recent war scare

in Europe and a period in which the radio frequently had interrupted regularly scheduled programs to report

developments in the Czechosolvak situation, caused fright and panic throughout the area of the broadcast.

Telephone lines were tied up with calls from listeners or persons who had heard of the broadcasts. Many

sought first to verify the reports. But large numbers, obviously in a state of terror, asked how they could

follow the broadcast's advice and flee from the city, whether they would be safer in the "gas raid" in the

cellar or on the roof, how they could safeguard their children, and many of the questions which had been

worrying residents of London and Paris during the tense days before the Munich agreement.

So many calls came to newspapers and so many newspapers found it advisable to check on the reports despite

their fantastic content that The Associated Press sent out the following at 8:48 P. M.:

"Note to Editors: Queries to newspapers from radio listeners throughout the United States tonight, regarding

a reported meteor fall which killed a number of New Jerseyites, are the result of a studio dramatization.

The A. P."

Similarly police teletype systems carried notices to all stationhouses, and police short-wave radio stations

notified police radio cars that the event was imaginary.

Message From the Police

The New York police sent out the following:

"To all receivers: Station WABC informs us that the broadcast just concluded over that station was a

dramatization of a play. No cause for alarm."

The New Jersey State Police teletyped the following:

"Note to all receivers--WABC broadcast as drama re this section being attacked by residents of Mars.

Imaginary affair."

From one New York theatre a manager reported that a throng of playgoers had rushed from his theatre as a

result of the broadcast. He said that the wives of two men in the audience, having heard the broadcast,

called the theatre and insisted that their husbands be paged. This spread the "news" to others in the audience.

The switchboard of The New York Times was overwhelmed by the calls. A total of 875 were received. One man

who called from Dayton, Ohio, asked, "What time will it be the end of the world?" A caller from the suburbs

said he had had a houseful of guests and all had rushed out to the yard for safety.

Warren Dean, a member of the American Legion living in Manhattan, who telephoned to verify the "reports,"

expressed indignation which was typical of that of many callers.

"I've heard a lot of radio programs, but I've never heard anything as rotten as that," Mr. Dean said. "It

was too realistic for comfort. They broke into a dance program with a news flash. Everybody in my house was

agitated by the news. It went on just like press radio news."

At 9 o'clock a woman walked into the West Forty-seventh Street police station dragging two children, all

carrying extra clothing. She said she was ready to leave the city. Police persuaded her to stay.

A garbled version of the reports reached the Dixie Bus terminal, causing officials there to prepare to

change their schedule on confirmation of "news" of an accident at Princeton on their New Jersey route. Miss

Dorothy Brown at the terminal sought verification, however, when the caller refused to talk with the

dispatcher, explaining to here that "the world is coming to an end and I have a lot to do."

Harlem Shaken By the "News"

Harlem was shaken by the "news." Thirty men and women rushed into the West 123d Street police station and

twelve into the West 135th Street station saying they had their household goods packed and were all ready to

leave Harlem if the police would tell them where to go to be "evacuated." One man insisted he had heard "the

President's voice" over the radio advising all citizens to leave the cities.

The parlor churches in the Negro district, congregations of the smaller sects meeting on the ground floors

of brownstone houses, took the "news" in stride as less faithful parishioners rushed in with it, seeking

spiritual consolation. Evening services became "end of the world" prayer meetings in some.

One man ran into the Wadsworth Avenue Police Station in Washington Heights, white with terror, crossing the

Hudson River and asking what he should do. A man came in to the West 152d Street Station, seeking traffic

directions. The broadcast became a rumor that spread through the district and many persons stood on street

corners hoping for a sight of the "battle" in the skies.

In Queens the principal question asked of the switchboard operators at Police Headquarters was whether "the

wave of poison gas will reach as far as Queens." Many said they were all packed up and ready to leave Queens

when told to do so.

Samuel Tishman of 100 Riverside Drive was one of the multitude that fled into the street after hearing part

of the program. He declared that hundreds of persons evacuated their homes fearing that the "city was being

bombed." "I came home at 9:15 P.M. just in time to receive a telephone call from my nephew who was frantic with fear.

He told me the city was about to be bombed from the air and advised me to get out of the building at once. I

turned on the radio and heard the bradcast which coroborated what my nephew had said, grabbed my hat and

coat and a few personal belongings and ran to the elevator. When I got to the street there were hundreds of

people milling around in panic. Most of us ran toward Broadway and it was not until we stopped taxi drivers

who had heard the entire broadcast on their radios that we knew what it was all about. It was the most

asinine stunt I ever heard of."

"I heard that broadcast and almost had a heart attack," said Louis Winkler of 1,322 Clay Avenue, the Bronx.

"I didn't tune it in until the program was half over, but when I heard the names and titles of Federal,

State and municipal officials and when the `Secretary of the Interior' was introduced, I was convinced it

was the McCoy. I ran out into the street with scores of others, and found people running in all directions.

The whole thing came over as a news broadcast and in my mind it was a pretty crummy thing to do."

The Telegraph Bureau switchboard at police headquarters in Manhattan, operated by thirteen men, was so

swamped with calls from apprehensive citizens inquiring about the broadcast that police business was

seriously interfered with.

Headquarters, unable to reach the radio station by telephone, sent a radio patrol car there to ascertain the

reason for the reaction to the program. When the explanation was given, a police message was sent to all

precincts in the five boroughs advising the commands of the cause.

"They're Bombing New Jersey!"

Patrolman John Morrison was on duty at the switchboard in the Bronx Police Headquarters when, as he

afterward expressed it, all the lines became busy at once. Among the first who answered was a man who

informed him:

"They're bombing New Jersey!"

"How do you know?" Patrolman Morrison inquired.

"I heard it on the radio," the voice at the other end of the wire replied. "Then I went to the roof and I

could see the smoke from the bombs, drifting over toward New York. What shall I do?"

The patrolman calmed the caller as well as he could, then asnwered other inquiries from persons who wanted

to know whether the reports of a bombardment were true, and if so where they should take refuge.

At Brooklyn police headquarters, eight men assigned to the monitor switchboard estimated that they had

answered more than 800 inquiries from persons who had been alarmed by the broadcast. A number of these, the

police said, came from motorists who had heard the program over their car radios and were alarmed both for

themselves and for persons at their homes. Also, the Brooklyn police reported, a preponderance of the calls

seemed to come from women.

The National Broadcasting Company reported that men stationed at the WJZ transmitting station at Bound

Brook, N. J., had received dozens of calls from residents of that area. The transmitting station

communicated with New York an passed the information that there was no cuase for alarm to the persons who

inquired later. Meanwhile the New York telephone operators of the company found their switchboards swamped with incoming

demands for information, although the NBC system had no part in the program.

Record Westchester Calls

The State, county, parkway and local police in Westchester Counter were swamped also with calls from

terrified residents. Of the local police departments, Mount Vernon, White Plains, Mount Kisco, Yonkers and

Tarrytown received most of the inquiries. At first the authorities thought they were being made the victims

of a practical joke, but hwen the calls persisted an dincreased in volume they began to make inquiries. The

New York Telephone Company reported that it had never handled so many calls in one hour in years in

Westchester.

One man called the Mount Vernon Police Headquarters to find out "where the forty policement were killed";

another said he brother was ill in bed listening to the broadcast and when he heard the reports he got into

an automobile and "disappeared." "I'm nearly crazy!" the caller exclaimed.

Because some of the inmates took the catastrophic reports seriously as they came over the radio, some of the

hospitals and the county penitentiary ordered that the radios be turned off.

Thousands of calls came in to Newark Police Headquarters. These were not only from the terrorstricken.

Hundreds of physicians and nurses, believing the reports to be true, called to volunteer their services to

aid the "injured." City ofifcials also claled in to make "emergency" arrangements for the population. Radio

cars were stopped by the panicky throughout that city.

Jersey City police headquarters received similiar clals. One woman asked detective Timothy Grooty, on duty

there, "Shall I close my windows?" A man asked, "Have the police any extra gas masks?" Many of the callers,

on being assured the reports were fiction, queried again and again, uncertain in whom to believe.

Scores of persons in lower Newark Avenue, Jersey City, left their homes and stood fearfully in the street,

looking with apprehension toward the sky. A radio car was dispatched there to reassure them.

The incident at Hedden Terrace and Hawthorne Avenue, in Newark, one of the most dramatic in the area, caused

a tie-up in traffic for blocks around. the more than twenty families there apparently believed the "gas

attack" had started, and so reported to the police. An ambulance, three radio cars and a police emergency

squad of eight men were sent to the scene with full inhalator apparatus.

They found the families with wet cloths on faces contorted with hysteria. The police calmed them, halted the

those who were attempting to move thier furniture on their cars and after a time were able to clear the

traffic snarl.

At St. Michael's Hospital, High Street and Central Avenue, in the heart of the Newark industrial district,

fifteen men and women were treated for shock and hysteria. In some cases it was necessary to give sedatives,

and nurses and physicians sat down and talked with the more seriously affected.

While this was going on, three persons with children under treatment in the institution telephoned that they

were taking them out and leaving the city, but their fears were calmed when hospital authorities explained

what had happened.

A flickering of electric lights in Bergen County from about 6:15 to 6:30 last evening provided a build-up

for the terror that was to ensue when the radio broadcast started.

Without going out entirely, the lights dimmed and brightened alternately and radio reception was also

affected. The Public Service Gas and Electric Company was mystified by the behavior of the lights, declaring

there was nothing wrong at their power plants or in their distributing system. A spokesman for the service

department said a call was made to Newark and the same situation was reported. He believed, he said, that

the condition was general throughout the State.

The New Jersey Bell Telephone Company reported that every central office in the State was flooded with calls

for more than an hour and the company did not have time to summon emergency operators to relieve the

congestion. Hardest hit was the Trenton toll office, which handled calls from all over the East.

One of the radio reports, the statement about the mobilization of 7,000 national guardsmen in New Jersey,

caused the armories of the Sussex and Essex troops to be swamped with calls from officers and men seeking

information about the mobilization place.

Prayers for Deliverance

In Caldwell, N. J., an excited parishoner ran into the First Baptist Church during evening services and

shouted that a meteor had fallen, showering death and destruction, and that North Jersey was threatened. The

Rev. Thomas Thomas, the pastor quieted the congregation and all prayed for deliverance from the

"catastrophe."

East Orange police headquarters received more than 200 calls from persons who wanted to know what to do to

escape the "gas." Unaware of the broadcast, the switchboard operator tried to telephone Newark, but was

unable to get the call through because the switchboard at Newark headquarters was tied up. The mystery was

not cleared up until a teletype explanation had been received from Trenton.

More than 100 calls were received at Maplewood police headquarters and during the excitement two families of

motorists, residents of New York City, arrived at the station to inquire how they were to get back to their

homes now that the Pulaski Skyway had been blown up.

The women and children were crying and it took some time for the police to convince them that the

catastrophe was fictitious. Many persons who called Maplewood said their neighbors were packing their

possessions and preparing to leave for the country.

In Orange, N. J., an unidentified man rushed into the lobby of the Lido Theatre, a neighborhood motion

picture house, with the intention of "warning" the audience that a meteor had fallen on Raymond Boulevard,

Newark, and was spreading poisonous gases. Skeptical, Al Hochberg, manager of the theatre, prevented the man

from entering the auditorium of the theatre and then called the police. He was informed that the radio

broadcast was responsible for the man's alarm.

Emanuel Priola, bartender of a tavern at 442 Valley Road, West Orange, closed the place, sending away six

customers, in the middle of the broadcast to "rescue" his wife and two children.

"At first I thought it was a lot of Buck Rogers stuff, but when a friend telephoned me that general orders

had been issued to evacuate every one from the metropolitan area I put the customers out, closed the place

and started to drive home," he said.

William H. Decker of 20 Aubrey Road, Montclair, N. J., denounced the broadcast as "a disgrance" and "an

outrage," which he said had frightened hundreds of residents in his community, including children. He said

he knew of one woman who ran into the street with her two children and asked for the help of neighbors in

saving them.

"We were sitting in the living room casually listening to the radio," he said, "when we heard reports of a

meteor falling near New Brunswick and reports that gas was spreading. Then there was an announcement of the

Secretary of Interior from Washington who spoke of the happening as a major disaster. It was the worst thing

I ever heard over the air."

Columbia Explains Broadcast The Columbia Broadcasting System issued a statement saying that the adaption of Mr. Wells's novel which was

broadcast "followed the original closely, but ot make the imaginary details more interesting to American

listeners the adapter, Orson Welles, substituted an American locale for the English scenes of the story."

Pointing out that the fictional character of the broadcast had been announced four times and had been

previously publicized, it continued:

"Nevertheless, the program apparently was produced with such vividness that some listeners who may have

heard only fragments thought the broadcast was fact, not fiction. Hundreds of telephone calls reaching CBS

stations, city authorities, newspaper offices and police headquarters in various cities testified to the

mistaken belief.

"Naturally, it was neither Columbia's nor the Mercury Theatre's intention to mislead any one, and when it

became evident that a part of the audience had been disturbed by th performance five announcements were read

over the network later in the evening to reassure those listeners."

Expressing profound regret that his dramatic efforts should cause such consternation, Mr. Welles said: "I

don't think we will choose anything like this again." He hesitated about presenting it, he disclosed,

because "it was our thought that perhaps people might be bored or annoyed at hearing a tale so improbable."

SCARE IS NATIONWIDE

Broadcast Spreads Fear In New England, the South and West

Last night's radio "war scare" shocked thousands of men, women and children in the big cities throughout the

country. Newspaper offices, police stations and radio stations were besieged with calls from anxious

relatives of New Jersey residents, and in some places anxious groups discussed the impending menace of a

disastrous war.

Most of the listeners who sought more information were widely confused over the reports they had heard, and

many were indignant when they learned that fiction was the cause of their alarm.

In San Francisco the general impression of listeners seemed to be that an overwhelming force had invaded the

United States from the air, was in the process of destroying New York and threatening to move westward. "My

God," roared one inquirer into a telephone, "where can I volunteer my services? We've got to stop this awful

thing."

Newspaper offices and radio stations in Chicago were swamped with telephone calls about the "meteor" that

had fallen in New Jersey. Some said they had relatives in the "stricken area" and asked if the casualty list

was available.

In parts of St. Louis men and women clustered in the streets in residential areas to discuss what they

should do in the face of the sudden war. One suburban resident drove fifteen miles to a newspaper office to

verify the radio "report."

In New Orleans a general impression prevailed that New Jersey had been devastated by the "invaders," but

fewer inquiries were received than in other cities.

In Baltimore a woman engaged passage on an airliner for New York, where her daughter is in school.

The Associated Press gathered the following reports of reaction to the broadcast:

At Fayetteville, N. C., people with relatives in the section of New Jersey where the mythical visitation had

its locale went to a newspaper office in tears, seeking information.

A message from Providence, R. I., said: "Weeping and hysterical women swamped the switchboard of The

Providence Journal for details of the massacre and destruction at New York, and officials of the electric

company received scores of calls urging them to turn off all lights so that the city would be safe from the

enemy."

Mass hysteria mounted so high in some cases that people told the police and newspapers they "saw" the

invasion.

The Boston Globe told of one woman who claimed she could "see the fire," and said she and many others in her

neighborhood were "getting out of here."

Minneapolis and St. Paul police switchboards were deluged with calls from frightened people.

The Times-Dispatch in Richmond, Va., reported some of their telephone calls from people people who said they

were "praying."

The Kansas City bureau of The Associated Press received inquiries on the "meteors" from Los Angeles, Salt

Lake City, Beaumont, Texas, and St. Joseph, Mo., in addition to having its local switchboards flooded with

calls. One telephone informant said he had loaded all his children into his car, had filled it with

gasoline, and was going somewhere. "Where is it safe?" he wanted to know.

Atlanta reported that listeners throughout the Southeast "had it that a planet struck in New Jersey, with

monsters and almost everything and anywhere from 40 to 7,000 people reported killed." Editors said

responsible persons, known to them, were among the anxious information seekers.

In Birmingham, Ala., people gathered in groups and prayed, and Memphis had its full quota of weeping women

calling in to learn the facts.

In Indianapolis a woman ran into a church screaming: "New York destroyed; it's the end of the world. You

might as well go home to die. I just heard it on the radio." Services were dismissed immediately.

Five students at Brevard College, N. C., fainted and panic gripped the campus for a half hour with many

students fighting for telephones to ask their parents to come and get them.

A man in Pittsburgh said he returned home in the midst of the broadcast and found his wife in the bathroom,

a bottle of poison in her hand, and screaming: "I'd rather die this way than like that."

He calmed her, listened to the broadcast and then rushed to a telephone to get an explanation.

Officials of station CFRB, Toronto, said they never had had so many inquiries regarding a single broadcast,

the Canadian Press reported.

WASHINGTON MAY ACT

Review of Broadcast by the Federal Commission Possible

Special to The New York Times

WASHINGTON, Oct. 30.--Informed of the furore created tonight by the broadcasting of Wells drama, "War of the

Worlds," officials of the Federal Communications Commission indicated that the commission might review the

broadcast.

The usual practice of the commission is not to investigate broadcasts unless formal demands for an inquiry

are made, but the commission has the power, officials pointed out, to initiate proceedings where the public

interest seems to warrant official action.

Geologists at Princeton Hunt 'Meteor' in Vain

Special to The New York Times

PRINCETON, N. J., Oct 30.--Scholastic calm deserted Princeton University briefly tonight following

widespread misunderstanding of the WABC radio program announcing the arrival of Martians to subdue the

earth.

Dr. Arthur F. Buddington, chairman of the Department of Geology, and Dr. Harry Hess, Professor of Geology,

received the first alarming reports in a form indicating that a meteor had fallen near Dutch Neck, some five

miles away. They armed themselves with the necessary equipment and set out to find a specimen. All they

found was a group of sightseers, searching like themselves for the meteor.

At least a dozen students received telephone calls from their parents, alarmed by the broadcast. The Daily

Princetonian, campus newspaper, received numerous calls from students and alumni.