"Invasion of the Mind Snatchers" by Eric Burns

Television’s growth in the 1950s mirrored the rise of radio in the 1930s. Unlike radio, however, TV hasn’t looked back, demanding our attention now more than ever in the 21st century.

Back in the 50s, television was still feeling its way. Early television was in black and white, screens were small, and stations actually signed off at night, playing the National Anthem before descending into static. It was a time when I Love Lucy, American Bandstand, and Davy Crockett ruled the airwaves along with Speedy Alka-Seltzer, Dinah Shore, Art Linkletter, and Superman.

Eric Burns chronicles the period, a time he remembers from his own childhood. His book, Invasion of the Mind Snatchers, published in 2010 (Temple University Press), is just one of many books Burns, a former NBC newsman, has written over the years.

“We watched television daily, played our own versions of the shows that were our favorites, purchased the merchandise they promoted, and observed the behavior of the adults around us who fell just as deeply under the medium’s spell as we did,” noted Burns.

In its desperate need for programming, TV ran old movies, developed game shows, and raided radio for its stars. Jack Benny, Milton Berle, Groucho Marx, Jack Webb, Eve Arden, Burns & Allen, and Robert Young were among the many performers who left high-powered radio shows for television in the 50s decade.

Bishop Fulton Sheen, the Catholic priest from Peoria, became a TV celebrity in the 50s, winning over audiences with a weekly half-hour show that was basically a sermon, said Burns, adding that Sheen’s ratings sometimes topped comedian Milton Berle, TV’s biggest star in the early 50s. Sheen received an Emmy in 1952.

Ed Sullivan was another unlikely TV star. The New York gossip columnist, who took to television in 1948, was arguably the worst performer in TV history, said the author. Being the butt of jokes and rude impersonations for his stiff stage appearance didn’t stop Sullivan from becoming the celebrated host of TV’s first and best-known variety show.

Sullivan, whose show aired until 1971, introduced the biggest names in show business over the years, with the Beatles and Elvis making the loudest noise, along with opera singers, plate spinners and dog acts.

Burns credited Dick Clark, the host of American Bandstand, for his contribution to civil rights. Clark made sure that Black performers got stage time on his show along with integrating the dance floor, providing some much-needed color on a TV scene that was predominantly white in the 1950s.

Burns opens and closes his book by recalling Philo Farnsworth, the man credited with developing the technology that resulted in television. Farnsworth was undermined in the 1920s by David Sarnoff, the founder of the NBC radio network, who went to court and made a fortune on Farnsworth’s patents and referred to himself as the father of television.

I’ve Got a Secret, a 50s game show where contestants wore masks as they questioned celebrity guests, featured Farnsworth as one of those mystery guests on a program in 1957. The questioners failed to identify Farnsworth even after they took off their masks. 

That wasn’t surprising, said Burns, since Farnsworth had long been relegated to TV’s sidelines. Gary Moore, one of the show’s regulars, expressed his gratitude to Farnsworth once learning the guest’s claim to fame. “I’d be out of work if it weren’t for you,” he said.

The man who invented television left the show with $80 in prize money and a carton of Winston cigarettes, noted Burns.