Lux presents Hollywood. The Lux Radio Theatre brings you Lorraine Day, Walter Brendon, and Tom Drake in Kentucky. Ladies and gentlemen, your guest producer, Mr. Mitchell Lyton. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. Next week on Saturday the 9th of June, all roads will lead, when stirred anyway, to Louisville, Kentucky. And they're running of that great turf classic, the Kentucky Derby. Founded almost three quarters of a century ago and fed by the highest traditions of the track, the Derby is not only the nation's most popular sporting event, it's become an American institution. Its entries are a roster of the great names in the history of racing. War Admiral, son of man of war, bubbling over, gallant fox, and whirl away. The Derby is a living symbol of the competition and good sportsmanship Americans so dearly love. I'll play tonight Kentucky from the studios of 20th Century Fox, is a saga of that rolling bluegrass country where the thoroughbred is king of the domain, where family pride and fierce tradition clash in a thrilling climax every year at Churchill Down. Starred in tonight's cast is Sally Goodwin, is the charming and versatile Lorraine Day. Also Walter Brendon, who brings to the airwaves one of his most distinguished screen impersonation. And finally in his first appearance on this stage we have Tom Drake, whose rise to stardom is one of Hollywood's most promising events. In a newspaper description of the very first Kentucky Derby, the stand reserved for ladies was described as quote, one grand bouquet of beauty, unquote. The girls with their parasols appeared to the reporter as so many particulate butterflies in the slanting rays of the sun. Yes, even then Kentucky boasted the fairness of its women. The same boast would hold true today. Except I'm sure that today's Kentucky beauties like women all over America depend more on lux toilet soap beauty care than parasols to guard the loveliness of their complexion. Well the lights go down in our theater and the curtain rises on the first act of Kentucky. Starring Walter Brendon as Peter Goodwin, Lorraine Day as Sally, and Tom Drake as Jack Dylan. To tell this story properly we should go back to the time it really started. The time of another war. The war between the North and the South. When a man named Dylan, leaving a company of federal cavalrymen, rode up to Elm Tree Farm and ordered his men to seize every horse on the place. I'm telling you for the last time Dylan, put my horses back in this tomb. I ordered them to take them and that's exactly what I'm going to do. But Kentucky's a neutral state. And out of the name may be neutral, but you're not. I'll always be a son of the devil. Are your orders to steal from civilians, to steal from your neighbors? Hurry with those mayors, Barclay. Yes, Dylan. Those horses are flare-brits. Imagine those creatures in battle who I'd be kind of to shoot them here now. I hate to do this, Goodwin. You ought to know that. And you won't do it. Not while I'm alive. You put my horses back up by heaven. Down that door. Kill you first. I'll... Captain Dylan. I'm... I'm all right. It's nothing. What about him? Good shot, Captain. Goodwin's dead. Dead. Where are you going, sir? Up to the house.  I was once their friend. Now I've got to tell him I killed him. And the horses... That's what we're here for. Round them up. Yes, that was all a long time ago. But the little boy whose father was killed is still at Elm Tree Farm. He's an old man who never forgot to hate a Dylan or to love a rice horse. He is Peter Goodwin and right now, as usual, he's in his stable, looking at a horse. Am I right, Mr. Peter? Yeah, I'm afraid so, Mr. Mellish. It's a bold tendin' all right. Warclad won't be running this year. Yeah, here we were, counting on him for the Keeneland Handicap. Everything's been against us lately.  Yes, sir. Haven't punched fired and turned him out to pasture. I'm sorry, Warclad. You just forget about racing for a while, son. Mr. Mellish, you seen Sally? Yeah, she said tell you she and her daddy was up for a canter. Well, let me know when she gets back. I'll be at the exercise, too. Yeah, I'll tell her. Said I'd let her ride Bessie's boy when we run those two-year-olds. Never should have promised it. Nothing's a matter with her riding, Mr. Peter. Of course there ain't, but who in carnation asked you? And I know just what I'm doing, Sally. We stand a chance to make her fortune. It's about to take every cent we own, Dad, to gamble on cotton.  There's not a thing to worry about. But don't you think we should... Dad, look out. What? Around the tent, there's a car coming. Quick, get off the road. Are they blind? Can't they see it? Hey, where you are, Sally, don't be. If I only knew who it was. That was one of the Dillon cars. Dillon, it would be. Oh, well, let's get on home. Please, Mr. Jack, leave me drive. Why, you didn't miss those folks by that much. Can't blame me for getting close to a girl that pretty. Who was she? The Sally Good one and her pa. Well, well, after five years at home, I've got a lot of catching up to do. But not at 70 miles a mile, Mr. Jack. Five long years. I've missed you, boy. Two years in South America, two years in Canada, a year in England. But at last, I'm a free man. What do you mean? Well, I've learned all I want to about the banking business. Is that why you're home? You got fired? No, no, I quit. Oh, didn't it occur to you to consult me first? Sure. But I knew what you'd say. I see. Well, Jack, what do you want to do? Stay here. Dad, I was brought up on horses and that's what I want to breed them, train them and race them. But that's a full time job. That's exactly what I mean. Listen, son, I love horses as much as you do.  Jack, couldn't you come into the bank here and work with me? But dad, I can get you on the board. That won't take all your time. Meanwhile, you can keep one eye on the horses, get a few for yourself, perhaps. And Jack, we're all either of us has in the world. Surely we can work this thing out somehow. Well, if it means that much to your dad, sure, I'll give it another try. Thank you, son. You'll never regret it. Now tell me about the horses. Well, we've got just about the best table we ever had. And how's Elm tree doing? The good ones. Getting by old Peter still alive hates us just as much as ever. Bad speculating and cutting. Better get smart too or he'll lose his shirt. He had a daughter, didn't he? I seem to remember a daughter. Oh, yes, Sammy. You see her in town now and then. A real beauty. No use for us either. Oh, she and her father nod to me on occasion. What is it, Cleo? I didn't call him again. Oh, come in. Call him in the smokehouse, Mr. John, with one of your best hair. John, you know I wouldn't steal nothing from you. What's happened to your head, Ben? Well, howdy, Mr. Jack. Oh, Lord, this woman done bust me wide, oh. Oh, I just laid a little piece of kid in the wood against it. Ben, you've been stealing from us for years. Last spring it was a saddle. Oh, no, sir, no, sir. Last spring was the guinea hen. Time before was the saddle.  I don't start crying. That used to work, but not anymore.  Yes, sir. Oh, Ben, go if you say so. Bye, Mr. Jack. I put up with him for years just because he was here in my father's time. But he'll really have to go this time. Pay him off, Mr. Jack. Ben, wait a minute. Turn out, for look for all my friends. Just the phone. Is that money for me, Mr. Jack? And it's worth more than you are for a year. Thank you, sir. Looks like I got one friend left. Well, just mend your ways, old sinner. Yes, sir. I'll go and report Mr. Jack and give him a word. Come on, Jack. Let's take a look around. Run them now, Mr. Millish. I have those swipes cool them coats off good. I'm real happy with the workout, Mr. Peter. Yeah. Well, just look at the track they've been running on. Why, it's hotter than my gutteries. Well, if I wasn't here, there wouldn't be a soundlegged horse on the place. The track's fine. Soft as sand. Thoroughbred's gutter on in the cushion. I've been telling you that for 30 years. Yes, sir. Here, just about. Well, they didn't do too bad out there, Mr. Millish. No, not too bad. Come here, Sally. How'd they look, Uncle Peter? Never mind. Thought I'd taught you how to ride. Couldn't hold Bessie's boy in. He's got a mouth like iron.  Yes, sir. Well, anyway, your clothes real pretty. Oh, Miss Sally, it's shallower. Who is it? Miss Allen, shallower sir. Oh, tell her I'll be right there. Stooped in grits and gravy. The doctor said you had to stay away from pork. I want pork chops. Do you hear? Two pork chops. No, doctor's going to run my stomach. Yes, sir, Mr. Peter. Two pork chops. Dad? Yes, Uncle Peter? Now, I guess what was it you were trying to tell me? That I'm afraid you'll have to wait for that news table. We can't afford any building right now. No, but we can afford to gamble and cotton, can't we? Buying cotton at these prices is no gamble. We'll be on Easy Street. There's only one house on Easy Street, son. That's the poor house.  That's what I'm doing. Get first the buttons of a bomb-tailed bear boom, trying to burn me to death. Oh, no, the soup isn't that loud. It's hotter than the hinges that never saw such a place. You're still planning on going to town with me this afternoon? Oh, I'm sorry, Dad. I just saw Miss Helen Temberton out placing tennis. Guess who's in there? Jack Dillon. Did you say? Did you say Jack Dillon? Well, yes, I did. Was that him on the road this morning? It must have been. Helen said one reason he'd like to see me is to apologize. You ain't going, Chevy. The Dillons are no good, and you let him alone.  I'm leaving the table. See, I'm finishing my lunch in the kitchen because I told you real polite what I think of the Dillons. And if I hear another word about them, I'll likely lose my temper. Uncle Peter, and you keep quiet. Lily! Yes, sir. I have my pork shops in here. Please, now may I say something? Not to me if you're trailing around with a Dillon. Lily! Who you talking to there? There's a poor old common man, Mr. Peter. Huh? Oh, who are you? Yes, old Ben, sir. Where you from? This old rich, sir. Work for the Dillons gone on 50 years, sir. But now this old man ain't surprised at you. Yeah. You see what I mean, Sally? They just bust me over the head with a stick and let me go. Well, when you're through eating, go around the stables and tell Mr. Malish I said to put you to work. Thank you, sir. Sally, where you going? It's a telephone. I won't be meeting Jack Dillon this afternoon or any other afternoon. They tell me Mr. Jack's going to school with the Dillon Horses now. What happened? He's training it wise and quit? Mr. Slocum? Oh, no, sir. Mr. Jack just kind of helped Mr. Slocum. Getting ready for the big races at Keeneland. That come on pretty soon now, don't it, sir? Track opens 30. Say, you talk too much. Go on each of it. Yes, sir. Open it on 30. Without an elm tree horse. Yeah, but we'll be there just the same, Sally. Just to see what's running. Well, how am I doing, Bob? Is the tape job all right? Get any better at this, Jack, and I'll be looking for a new job. Well, it's a time and place to start looking. Opening day at Keeneland. Say, Duckfoot's going to work out Captain Heather. I'd like him to walk some first.  Yeah? I'm not so sure your father would want to see you doing this sort of thing. Oh, he knows where I am. That you're working in the stalls doing the swipe job? Look, I can handle my... Hey! Huh? Over there, looking at the horses. Oh, that's Goodwin's daughter. And it's about time I met her. She finds out your name is... She won't find out. Yes, sir. Captain Heather, Sally Goodwin, and I are all going for a little walk. Yes, ma'am. How's he, Brad? The tramp out of Tantrum by Storm King. Nice hips and shoulders. Close couples. Any use? Only fair, ma'am. He's running in the third. You training him? Well, trying to. I, uh... I've got some pretty good horses here for the meet. Like to look them over? But you're busy now, and I'm... No, glad to, glad to. Hey, Duckfoot? Yes, sir? Put this horse up, he's cooled out now. Cooled out? But he ain't been nowhere yet. Do as you're told, and tell Jack Dylan I'll see him later. What'd you say? Oh, these stable boys. No idea of what's going on at all. Oh, these are our horses down this way, miss. Now, there's a nice silly... Wonderful. Good legs, nice hips and shoulders. Beautiful face. What? Oh, I was just saying she's going to beat some good horses before she's through. Whose string is this? John Dylan's. Oh. Something wrong? My name happens to be Goodwin. Goodwin? Oh yes, yes. I did hear something about a feud or something. And take my advice and find another job. You can work 50 years for the Dylons, and then they'll run you off just because you're old. The Dylons do that? Philly! It's you? It's your Uncle Peter. I thought I'd find you missing around the stable somewhere. Hmm, nice little Philly. Is she? She's a Dylon colt. Then what are you looking at her for? Let's get out of here. Thanks for the warning, miss. Where's Daddy, Uncle Peter? In the clubhouse. She had to meet somebody. Come on, honey, let's look at some horses that ain't Dylons. I understand you were looking for me. I was, Dylan. I'll come right to the point. I've been planning to drop in at the bank. Oh. There's no reason why you and I can't be at least civil. No reason in the world. Or do business together. I want to see about a loan on Elm Tree. If you fill out the usual application, the directors will take it up Monday. Thank you. By the way, my son is interested in some of your horses. He'd like to cross some of your King James blood with some of our temp-fast mayors. I wonder if you'd accommodate him. My uncle handles our horses. I'd have to get his consent. And we'd better forget about it. Oh, not necessarily. These dice here on the bar. If I rolled you dice and you won, Peter wouldn't object to the payment of a gambling debt. And you'd own a King James horse. You see, I'd like to do you a favor. Unfortunately, I'm not a gambler. Oh, come on. One throw. The choice of any King James horse against any two-year-old at this will reach. Very well. Throw. A six and a three. A six and a five. Sorry, Dylan. You know my trainer, Bob Slokum. I'll send you a note. Bring it around to Slokum and you can pick out your two-year-old. Thank you. And about the loan? My board of directors will decide that. Do you mind if I drop in at the bank on Monday? Not at all. Let's get down to cases, gentlemen. Does this bank loan Goodwin $50,000 or not? Goodwin's all right with me. Understand he has to have money fast or he'll lose Elm Tree Farm. Then let's give it to him. It's my opinion that the loan should be denied. But, Dad, why? There's already one mortgage against Elm Tree. Goodwin wants this money to cover his speculations in cotton. We can't see Elm Tree ruin. I think we understand that point of view, Jack. We won't take up the board's time discussing it. Wait a minute, Dad. Are we denying this loan because Goodwin is a gambler, or because his name is Goodwin? Are you suggesting there's anything personal in my attitude? I'm sorry, Father. Gentlemen, you know you would have granted this loan till my father stopped you. I move we waive his objections. Give Goodwin the money and save Elm Tree. Well, this is all very distressing, but since the motion is made, we'd better take a vote. Very well. Gentlemen, shall we grant the loan? No. Thank you. The meeting's adjourned. Jack, where are you going? Mr. Goodwin's waiting. I'll tell him the happy news. Didn't Mr. Goodwin go, Miss Hill? Oh, he just stepped down at the corner for a newspaper. Oh, there he is. He's coming in now. Oh, Mr. Dillon, look! What's the matter with him? Oh, he looks as if he... The collabs! Call a doctor quickly! Jack, I was about to send for you. I wanted to see you, too. Jack, your conduct before the directors was most offensive. I'm sorry if I hurt you, sir, but I meant every word I said. You still think I refused Goodwin the money because I disliked him? Doesn't matter. He won't need the money now. Goodwin's dead. Dead? Yes, on the doorstep of this bank. He had this newspaper in his hand. You want to see the headline? Cotton Nose Dives to All Time Low. Goodwin? That's terrible. He knew you wouldn't give him the loan. He told me so before the meeting. He's gone now, Dad. An old tree is the next to go. A place that's meant more to Kentucky than this bank ever could mean. Is it my fault Goodwin threw his money away? No, Dad.  That'll do from you. I came home thinking this few business was a gag. Something you see in the funny papers. It seems it's not so funny after all. You'd better go now before I forget you're my son. Yes, perhaps I'd better try to forget it myself. It seems like a bad dream, Uncle Peter. Something that we'll wake up from. Something we imagined while we were asleep. Mm-hmm. He goes. He dies. And I still hang on. It just ain't right, Sally. It just ain't right. Poor Daddy. He tried as hard as he knew how to save Uncle Peter. He's got to go now, Uncle Peter. Farm, all the horses. I know, honey. I know. But we'll come back someday. We've got to come back someday. We pause for intermission before we return with act two of Kentucky. Hello, Sally. How nice you look. Fresh from the beauty parlor, Mr. Kennedy. Like the hairdo? Oh, wow. I'd call it. It's a very newer thing, Mr. Kennedy. All the girls are slicking their hair up tight and smooth like this for summer. It certainly looks cute piled on top of your head like that. Well, the trick is to pull it up very tight and bind it all together with a narrow ribbon or rubber band. Then you wrap the ends firmly, comb them into curls, or braid them into a caronette. You know, Sally, that certainly is the hairdo to show off how lovely it looks complexion. That's what I thought you'd say, Mr. Kennedy. And it's perfectly true. When a girl brushes her hair up and away from her face like this, she's mighty grateful if her skin looks nice and clear. Well, there's one fashion that never changes, Sally, and that's a lovely smooth complexion, a real luxe complexion. Daily active lather facials can help any girl to make her skin lovelier. Won't you describe how simple and active lather facial with luxe toilet soap is, Sally? Here's all you do. Cover your face generously with the creamy luxe soap lather. Work it in thoroughly. Rinse with warm water, then splash on lots of cold.  And that's all there is to it. Thanks, Sally. Now, here's a Hollywood tip for women everywhere. Why not take these facials regularly and see what new freshness and beauty they'll bring? Recent tests showed actually three out of four complexions improved in a short time with this gentle care. Remember, luxe toilet soap contains only the finest ingredient. It's Hollywood's own beauty soap. Here's Mitchell Lysen and our stars. And now act two of Kentucky, selling Lorraine Day as Sally, Walter Brennan as Peter Goodwin, and Tom Drake as Jack Dylan. Within a week, there have been two generals of Elm Tree Farm. The first is for Sally's father. The second, for a grand tradition. For today, the Goodwin property and the Goodwin horses are sold at auction. Good night now. Uncle Peter sits by a window watching a torrential downpour while Sally tries to explain what their new life will be. You didn't hear a word I said, did you? I ain't. Now you heard me. So we'll take that cottage near town and we'll get along fine. It's small, so we won't need any servants except Lily. And I'm sure Mr. Mellish won't be out of work long. Bigger the cloud burst. We're going to lose some trees. Don't worry so. At least we saved Bessie's boy. Bessie's boy? Someday, Sally, Bessie's boy is going to carry us back to Elm Tree. He's a wonderful colt. Oh, Uncle Peter, remember that man who showed me the Dylan horses at Kingman? What about him? He was here today. He wants to work for us. Train Bessie's boy on a no-win, no-charge basis. You let him talk here? He's just snooping around here for the Dylan's. Oh, no, he's not working for them anymore. He said he'd had a row with Mr. Dylan. What's his name? Anderson. Jack Anderson, he said. He's coming back tomorrow. I said I'd speak to you. Oh, I can't think now, honey. Where are you going? Out to the stables. Uncle Peter, the stables are empty now. They ain't empty. They've been empty only once in 1861. We've still got our colt. Sally, I don't, I don't feel good. I'm sick. I just don't know what to do. Uncle Peter, Uncle, Lily, Lily, come here. Mr. Malish, come here. Mr. Malish, we've got to. The car smashed the pieces, Miss Sally. That big old Elm fell right on top of it. I'll try the phone again. There's no use, Miss. Wires are all down. If we only had a horse, we could... Bessie's boy. Miss Sally, you can't take Bessie's boy. We've got to get her down there. Four miles on a concrete road. The hard pike will break her down, sure. Stay with Uncle Peter, Mr. Malish. You can't ruin the best colt we ever raised. Mr. Peter and Zuna died. I'll be back soon. You'll be all right, Sally. Thank you. It's just been the shock of everything. Sally. Yes, Uncle Peter. Yes, she's grown. Please try to wear her. A little while ago, folks were on the pavement there. They heard Bessie's boy, wasn't it? Yes, Uncle Peter. We ain't got a horse in the world now, Sally. We ain't got nothing. Except each other. Except each other. Mr. Anderson. Hello, Miss Goodwin. Won't you come in? Thanks. I'm sorry I couldn't see you last week, but Uncle Peter... He's better now? Oh, yes. Bri is ever. Sally! Who's at the door? I see what you mean. Who is? Uncle Peter. This is Mr. Anderson.  That's right, sir.  He ain't got a sound leg on him. But what's happened? He ran four miles in eight minutes on a concrete road. That's what happened. The night of the storm, we had to get the doctor. We'll have to decline your offer, Mr. Anderson. Unless, of course, we get one of the Dillon's two-year-olds. Now, don't start that nonsense again. You see, Mr. Anderson, I found a note signed by Mr. Dillon giving my father the choice of any two-year-old of pistol rigs. Could I... could I see it? Here. Dillon wouldn't give away a yellow dog. Daddy, his good one is entitled to his free choice of any three-year-old of pistol-rigs farm. That's what he's doing. Yes, that's my... that's Mr. Dillon's handwriting, all right. I think you ought to look into this, sir. Now, that's what. The only mentioned study is good news. He's gone now. That's all the rumor Dillon needs to screw him out of a deal. You don't think he'd welts on an application, do you? Well, I'll bet my Sunday shirt he'll try. Then we're going, Uncle Peter. Yeah, I reckon so. Well, they've got one two-year-old over there and they've poured on me. I do know him picking. He'll take advantage even of it, Dillon. Do you mind if I drop by a little later? I'm sure if you'd like. I'm sure I didn't mean to be short with you, but if there is a good court of pistol rigs, I'm likely to find him. Any two-year-old, Mr. Dillon? You mean any two-year-old we've got? You heard me, Slocum, and I have their choice. They're on their way to the statement now. What if they pick Postman?  Yes, sir. Hey, Marty. Yeah?  He's given the good ones their choice of our two-year-old. Get down to the exercise track. When Postman's cooled off, put him in the track shed and keep him there, you understand? Sure.  He's got lots of promise. Keep him in the track shed, too. All right, get going. Have you seen them all? And this fella here is the sweetest prick of the lot. Uncle Peter, she's a beauty. Oh, well, a horse racing the beauty contest. Well, uh, what about the chestnut? These curbs. Sucks. He'll die of old age and never know she's got her. He'll die of old age before we own him. These already good? Yep. Have you seen them all? What's that? What's what? That's singing. Oh, just one of the spice, I guess. Mr. Dillon, I'd like to make you a proposition. I got it. That's why he's wearing jockey shoes.  Well, I really couldn't say that. You know, Nick, the horse racer, Mr. Slocum, I love singing dead. Excuse me. Where's he at? Where's he at? Over in the track shed. Over in the track shed. Oh, we're at the track shed now. And what's he called? What's he called? Going to the races now? Name a postman. Name a postman. Going to the races. Well, Brother Slocum. Yes, sir? I reckon Miss Gooden and I'll ramble over to the track shed. The postman worked a half from 48, huh? The postman alright. Maybe he did. Uncle Peter, just look at him. Mm-hmm. Can't fault him with the microscope. But you know, I've sort of taken a fancy to my little black friend over here. Slocum, put the black coat in the truck. Yes, sir. The black coat? You heard me. Oh, now, wait a minute. You know, I can count the great horses I ever seen on the fingers of one hand. Every one of them had the same look in his eye. And he can't beat the horse with that look. And this here coach got it. The look of Hebrews. I'm sorry, Uncle Peter. But it's my horse and it's my choice. I choose Postman. Shall we? It's kind of late in the day for you to go back on. Uncle Peter, it's definite. Don't you think I know what I'm doing, honey? Well, we'll take the black coat, Mr. Slocum. He's a fine-looking colt, Miss Goodwin. But I had hoped you'd pick Postman. We're lucky to have any after the trick Mr. Dillon tried for. Trick? He had Slocum hide him out. Postman, too. Mr. Dillon did that? Maybe you worked for Dillon, but you sure didn't learn much about him. Well, do you still want to train for it? Do I? Take him. He's yours. Here. Thanks. Well, when you two get through holding hands, maybe we can find a name for him. Well, he belongs to a real Kentuckians now. Call him Bluegrass. Might make him grow some. Bluegrass? Of course, that's it. Oh, I went over to Chandler's while I was waiting. He said we could use that. I'm talking to you. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've been trying to talk to you since just today afternoon. I saw Bluegrass work out. Thanks, Mary. And he is a good horse, but he just hasn't got speed. Why don't you make more time? Time. We've had him now for five months. Maybe we need a new trainer. Jack's brought him along beautifully. Hey, is that today's paper? Yes, and listen to this. Postman wins Crescent City handicapped ease up. Mm-hmm. Good course. Dillon's great horse takes New Orleans classic for his fifth straight win. Well. Lily! Yes, sir. Bring me an apple. I'm not finished. Postman's performance today is sure to make him a heavy favorite for the Kentucky Derby. Oh, Uncle Peter, if you'd only admit you were wrong. I was wrong about a horse once. Let me see, yeah. That was in 1901. Here's your apples. I picked out a nice, soft one. And see if you take this tiny, too. You will kindly take that witch's brew and run it down the drain. Postman. Five. Thank you. When these dang gappers are growing hotter every year. Oh, you're just... You're just... I wish you had a few more teeth in there. Jack! Oh, Sally, Mr. Peter. Look, I haven't touched it. It's just the way I picked them in. I haven't touched what? This is the stopwatch. See what it says? One minute, thirty-seven seconds. Sure, Bluegrass. One thirty-seven. How far? Seven furlongs? A full mile, a wire to wire. A mile? Oh, but he couldn't. But he did. Hmm, picked the wrong horse today. Uncle Peter, how did you know? Hey, get away from me. Don't hug me. Hug him. He's a fellow who did it. Well, see, Bluegrass about ready for a prep race for the Derby, son. You bet he is. I already have. He'll run on Thursday. Sally, what's the matter? The Derby? With Postman in those eastern coasts? Don't be silly. Oh, I don't think I am. Sally. Yes? I... Look, this all means a lot to you, doesn't it? I mean another good-win horse in the Derby and everything. Yes, it means a lot. Sally, you won't be sorry whatever happens that you let me train Bluegrass. You've been wonderful. But there's something you've got to find out sooner or later, and I don't know how to say it. You have to say it. Sally, I... Jack, if you don't kiss me, I'm a terrible man. I most certainly am going to kiss you. Oh. Now, what were you going to tell me? Oh, I just can't, Sally. I'm sorry, but I've got to get to the track by sunrise, so if you don't mind, I think I'd better run along. Jack. I'm taking Bluegrass to Keeneland. Oh, and of course I couldn't interfere with that. Oh, it's not that. You know, you're not the easiest person in the world to understand. Well, if I... Right. Right. Was there anything in your life that ever meant more to you than a horse? Certainly not. Well, there isn't mine. A little while ago, I practically threw myself at him. He left me flat. Now, listen to me, Sally. Jack's training a coat that starts in a derby two weeks from today. And if any girl could keep his mind off of that, I wouldn't give a nickel for him. I might have known better than to come to you for sympathy. You don't need sympathy. You own Bluegrass. He's running his first race Thursday, and he's going to win it. Except you and I won't be a team under the same duet. What are you talking about? Sally, you know what the doctor said about excitement. Oh, maybe you're right. What? There won't be a race anyway. Bluegrass will walk away. But we could grab over the club, maybe, and make a bet and listen to the race on the radio, could we? Well, yes, I guess it could be that much. Ladies and gentlemen, please, I would say, take the five, hurry on. Go straight to the event. Bluegrass, 28-3. Ladies and gentlemen, come on, Sally. Give me your money. But the coat's jack isn't fine with you. Good when the horses are always trying. Well, at least let me telephone Jack and see what he says. Go ahead. I'll hold the money for you. And don't you back till I come back. Here. Hundred dollars on Bluegrass. Drop the board. On the nose. Okay, Grandpa. Let Goatsackers home you'll own this place.  Hello, this is Sally Goodwin. I'd like to speak to my trainer, please. Sorry, miss. I'm sent for a trainer just before the race. Oh, please. I have to speak to Mr. Anderson. It's very important. Mr. Anderson? Yes, it's Bluegrass. There's no Anderson here. But I tell you, I'm Sally Goodwin. And my trainer is Jack Anderson. Now, wait a minute, sister. John C. Dillon Jr. is training Bluegrass. And if he's been handing you a line, don't tell it to me. Tell it to a lawyer. Goodbye. John C. Dillon Jr. She's fifth and Blunderbuss. Excuse me. Excuse me. Let me get up to that loud speaker. Around the clock, turn this palisade on the real-life tooling. Airplane in second. Hurry on his third and high voltage moving up fast. Don't worry. Just lean off the pace. Turning for home, miss Palisade in front of Goatwell and Air. Airplane in second by a length and a half. High voltage is third and responding to pressure. What's happened to your launch shot, Grandpa? Huh. Into the stretch is Palisade by two lengths. Airplane by a length and a half. High voltage by and on the outside closing very fast is Bluegrass. Yes, big yellow. Come on, baby. They're coming down the line. I'm finished now. It's Palisade and Bluegrass. Palisade and Bluegrass. It's going to be a driving finish. They're head and head. Now they're coming across the line. And Palisade wins by a nose.  That race was crooked. Uncle Peter. What did I tell you? It doesn't matter. Let's get on with it. Your attention, please. Your attention. Paul claimed that keen land. There. You see? I told you so. The judges have sustained the claim of Paul. Palisade has been disqualified. And the winner of the race, Bluegrass. I never fooled me for a minute in you. Yes, sir. $2,100, please. They're right with it. Uncle Peter. You could have won. He's up as they're head and the pal them. What's the matter with you? I just had Keenan on the phone. His name isn't Jack Anderson. It's John C. Dillon, Jr. What? Who told you that? Another dirty lion dillon. Why did he do it? Why? I ain't it plain enough we're racing against Porscheman and the J.B.? You see to it that we don't beat him. But he wanted to claim for us the four-wheeled Bluegrass. Sure, sure. Whatever coat we had, he was going to get him beat. Oh, I don't believe it. I can't believe it. Oh, come on, honey. That's some troll thinking to do. We pause now for station identification. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. We'll be back with the third act of Kentucky in a moment. And now, a homecoming husband. Hi, sweetheart. Janie. Down in a moment, darling, soon as I get the baby tucked in. Why don't you go ahead with your bath? The water's all drawn. I put a clean towel on the rack and there's a nice new cake of luck soap. Oh, what a boy for us, sweetheart. Janie, you think of everything. Yes, Jane has an adoring husband. And why not? Jane's a thoughtful wife. She thinks of little things, important little things. She knows that nothing builds up a man's morale after a hard day like a good hot bath with a soap that lathers. Nothing sissy about this lathers. Really gets you clean. Men go for the rich, extra-creamy lather luck-torted soap gift. Active lather that carries away every trace of the day's dust and grime in a jiffy. And from the housekeeper's point of view, here's something else that's important. Luck-torted soap is so thrifty. It's hard milled. Each cake can be used in a last little sliver. That's why I can afford to buy it as a family bath soap, too. Why not treat your family to fine white luck-torted soap for their daily bath? They'll enjoy the refreshing lathers, creamy and rich even in hard water. A quality soap luck-torted soap at a very little price. Back now to our play and Mitchell license. Act free of Kentucky. Starring Walter Brennan as Peter Goodwin, The Rain Day as Sally, and Tom Drake as Jack Dillon. The following afternoon, and back in town, Jack Dillon hurries straight to the Goodwin home. But in the past year, of joining the cottage, he sees something that brings him to a sudden startled halt. Better stay where he is, Mr. Jackson. Well, that's bluegrass. What's he doing here? Mr. Peter, give me this shotgun.  But I left him at Churchill Downs last night.  They said no Dillon Polk had gone train of Goodwin Hawks. Oh. Well, she found out. Man was Mr. Peter Seaman. He said he wanted to train him himself till after the derby. Didn't Miss Sally say anything? Yes, sir. Here. She said, tell you, here's your share of yesterday's winning. She said she don't blame you none either, for changing your name from Dillon. Well, that's better. Are they at the house? No, sir. That's why I'm spelling Mr. Peter with a shotgun. When will they be back? Well, dad, I don't really know, sir. But I did hear Miss Sally say something about a dance tonight over Miss Helen Hamilton. Well, thanks, then. I'll be there soon. Thank you, Aunt Sally. Why didn't you tell me your horse was going around? Well, believe me, it was all very sudden. Well, at least I can prove my loyalty to you. I'll keep you bet. Small, my boy. You're the small horse. Now, look. Okay, I couldn't. Oh, hiya. Sure, thanks, Sally. It was swell. I'm not dancing, Mr. Dillon. Oh, Sally, please. I'm sorry you found out the way you did. I wanted to tell you myself the other night. Then I decided to wait until after the derby because of Bluegrass 1. Well, you'd have to believe me.  It doesn't matter. I came here to talk to you, and that's just what I'm going to do. Oh, look, Dylan. I wouldn't use that phone with Miss Goodwood. I don't like it. I don't care whether you like it or not. Tom, please, I'll see you later. I'd like to see him later, too. Everybody's looking at it.  All I want to do, Sally, is explain why I didn't tell you who I am. Isn't it obvious to make sure we don't beat Postman and the derby? You really believe that? For what other reason could there be? Because I wanted to be with you. To help you. And what chance did I have as a Dylan? All right. You'll be explained. No, no, wait. You might as well know this, too. When your father asked for a loan at the bank and my father turned him down, we had something of a row. I haven't spoken to him since. Doesn't that prove something? Yes. The Dylan's can't be decent even to each other. About Bluegrass. He's a great cult. He can win the derby. Just tell your uncle he wants a hand ride all the way. I think Uncle Peter will know how to have him ridden. I know, but be sure and tell him that Bluegrass sold you to use a whip. Tell him not to use a whip under any circumstances. Is that all? Yes, except that I love you. But I think you know I do. And even if it was a dirty trick, all that lying and pretending, at least it let me be near you for a while. So I can't be sorry no matter what happens or what you think. Good night, Sally. Lord, you.  It's just a routine examination, Uncle Peter. Dr. Nelson wants to find out if you're well enough to. Well, to stop taking the Tommy. Get out of here, Doc. No, no, Peter. No fool doctors examining me on Derby Day. With all this excitement and everything? We just want to be sure that nothing... Now, listen to me.  Nothing else ever mattered very much. Just horses and this... this fool female here. Seventy-five. And a one with Sheridan, too. And every time I did was because my boy rode like I told him. Oh, yes, sir. Now you lay back around Fifth Place and you cover the far turn. Then you make your move and keep a ride. Okay, Mr. Goodwin. Hey, look. Get him a couple of legs at the eight pole to wake him up. And if it's close, why just fan him good? Uncle Peter, no. Don't use your whip ever. Bluegrass has got to be handwritten. What's that? Well, if he's hitting me, salt. You ride like I told you. I'm sorry, Uncle Peter. But he's my horse and this race means more to me than... more than anything in the world. Dylan's been talking to this. Uncle Peter, he knows Bluegrass.  He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't. Well, whose orders do I follow? Don't use the whip under any circumstances. Okay, miss. If that's the way you want it. Well, I better get him out there. Uncle Peter. All right. Oh, Uncle Peter, I... I got nothing more to say. You better sit down, Jack. They're coming on the track. Hello, Slocum. You still got time to place the bed on Bluegrass. That runt won't know which way Postman went. I'm telling you, Slocum, that black colt can fly. You on the level? That's great. That's just fine. What? I mean that if it hadn't been for a no-count stable hand, old Goodwood would never would have got him. So it was you who tried to hide him out? Well, they were just over at the track shed, and I figured that I could Where's my father? In his box. But listen, Jack, I was only trying to save him.  Hello, Jack. Jack. Jack, come in. Dad, I just found out a minute ago what a fool I made of myself. I'm sorry. That's all right, son. And that day at the bank, I guess I just lost my head. Perhaps we've both been a little too hasty. I think maybe from now on we'll be a little more understanding of each other. That all these months I've been away, it's been because of what I thought you did are the good ones. But I was just talking with Slocum, and I... Well, getting in there, we could have a start any second now. Peter, sit down. Sit down. Look, Yonda. Where? Joe Dylan told you he wasn't speaking to his father, huh? Girl, you just lost. That's the tip. Now, there we go. Oh, Daddy's got to win it for them. For Sally, for Mr. Peter, and for me. Well, they could get L.G. back if he should win. Oh, it's much more than that today. I think I know what to do. And now the next stretch now is in front by one length. Evergreen is second. Thunder cloud is third. And Postman is now making his move. It's Postman third and coming for it back. Bluegrass is fourth. And here comes Tom. Of course he's coming. He's going to get much further though. Poor little horse. These are whipped. It's going to be what you do. Turning the home it's Evergreen in front of Postman. Evergreen and Postman. Evergreen is now it's Postman going to the front. He's running to the whip. Bluegrass on the outside is now third. And closing ground. Now he's second behind Postman. It's Postman and Bluegrass. Running to the whip. Going to the whip. Bluegrass. Bluegrass. Bluegrass. Bluegrass. Into the stretch it's Postman and Bluegrass. Second leg. Postman and Bluegrass. Postman is responding to pressure. He's taking the lead now by a half a length. Bluegrass is second. And now Bluegrass is going to the whip. This little coat I never saw. The look of eagles. That's what he's got. The look of eagles. Come on Uncle Peter. We've got to get down there to the whip, sir. The look of eagles. The look of the eagles. Trails in America's greatest racingancy. Sally. Sally. Jack, we won. We won. Sally darling. What's the matter? The footwind. Yes, I'm just waiting for my uncle. You won't be here, Sally. Won't be here. Will Mr. Peter Budwin come to the I was just up at your box, Ali. Uncle Peter, he... he's won his last race. Oh, no. No. You better come along now, darling. The services are about to start. I'm ready. He's born up wonderful. There's really no reason for fear. He died the way he wanted to. And now it's a message. You can't say it at a time like this. But I feel that here in the Earth, he loves so well. We are very more than a man. Don't, it's your father. Yes, darling, he... he asked if he could just say a word. We're burying a phase of American life. In this day of automobiles and airplanes, many of us have forgotten the horse what he meant to America. Not so with Peter Goodwin. He loved his horses with a lifelong devotion. And it was his great privilege, one which all men may envy, to die at the moment of his greatest triumph with the colors of his beloved elm tree once more riding to victory in a Kentucky derby. I knew him but slightly. But of him, I knew much. And nothing but did not do him a favor. Yes, darling. I can hear him saying it now. A good thing. It's been a good thing. Well, it's one place and show for the stars of Kentucky, Lorraine Day, Walter Brennan, and Tom Drake. You know, if we were at Louisville, I'd put a wreath of flowers on each of you. Well, thank you, Mitch, but you'd better have a special wreath for Walter. He won an Academy Award for his performance in this picture. I know he did. How does it happen you get so many roles in racing pictures, Walter? You must have a real feeling for horses. I had quite a lot of feeling the first time I rode one, Tom. Walter, Tom means you must be pretty fond of horses. Well, they got brains. They say there'll be 70,000 people come to see the horses at the derby.  Tell us, Walter, how are you at picking winners? Oh, pretty good. I'd settle for Lorraine right now. Lorraine wins by a nose, eh? Wins by a whole face. I see what you mean, but it's that luck complexion, among other things. Well, in that case, Mitch, you can put that wreath of flowers on luck's toilet, though. It's a champion for anybody's money. I think Walter, Mr. Lysen was talking about horses. Did you ever pick a winner at the track? I picked a horse once, and as he passed the stands, I had to yell at him, Hey, they went that way! And I suppose you thought he'd win in a walk. Oh, no, the walking was his own idea. Then you haven't any system, Walter, you can recommend. The betting? Well, I'll tell you, Mitch. The best thing is to put a dollar on a horse's head and a dollar on its tail, and then you'll win no matter how it comes in. But speaking of picking winners, Mitch, what have you picked for luck's next week? Oh, next week, next Monday night, we have something rather special in both play and cast. It's the picture that brought to the American screen that distinguished actress Ingrid Birdman. She appears in her original role co-starred with Joseph Cotton. Co-starred in that stirring drama Intermezzo, a musical genius caught in a faithful triangle of love, provides the basis for one of the screen's most gripping and unusual stories. Well, even to the world's biggest theater, Mitchell, that's a big event. Good night, Mitch. Good night. Good night. You gave a champion performance. This week, the America salutes the Army Air Force's Air Transport Command for its four years of vital service in supplying our frontline troops, transporting military personnel, and evacuating wounded over the greatest airline system in the world. To the 200,000 men and women of the Air Transport Command, we send our deepest thanks and our warmest wishes. Our sponsors, the makers of Lux's toilet soap, join me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night when the Lux Radio Theater presents Ingrid Birdman and Joseph Cotton in Intermezzo. This is Mitch Lysen saying good night from Hollywood. The end of the war in Europe has relieved some military shortages, but not a critical shortage of fats and greases. These must come largely from your kitchens. Keep on saving every precious drop of waste fats, regardless of how discolored. Strain fats into a clean can. Brush them to your butcher. You'll give you two additional meat ration points, plus four cents for each pound. Kentucky, from a story by John Tainter-Footh, was presented to the courtesy of 20th Century Fox, producers of the Technicolor production. Where do we go from here? Mitchell Lysen's next picture to be released for paramount is Kitty. Lorraine Day appeared through the courtesy of Metro Golden Mayor, producers of Valley of Decision.  Tom Drake is currently featured in the Metro Golden Mayor picture. This man's Navy. Heard in tonight's cast were Howard McNeer, Norman Field, Herb Rollinsen, Leo Cleary, Arthur Q. Bryan, Haskell Coffin, Ed Emerson, Horace Willard, Ruby Dandridge, Earl Smith, Lillian Randolph, Charles Thiel, Eddie Marr, Robert Cole, Hal Dawson, Truda Marson, and Ralph Lewis. Our music was directed by Lewis Silver. This program is broadcast to our fighting forces overseas through cooperation with the Armed Forces Radio Service. And this is your announcer, John M. Kennedy, reminding you to tune in again next Monday night to hear Intermezzo with Ingrid Bergman and Joseph Cotton. Ah, pull that measuring cup, lady. Be sure your precious heart to get sugar is invested, not wasted. Do all your baking the sure way, the spray way, for a dependably light, velvety-rich cake, tender, flaky pastry, for all your cooking, be sure of success. Yet you're all vegetable shortening at its creamy best. That's why, S-P-R-Y. Be sure to listen in next Monday night to the Lux Radio Theatre presentation of Intermezzo with Ingrid Bergman and Joseph Cotton. This is...


So Brandon Cade Cunningham is the top most draft boards. Why is that the case? I Mean, he's really good. I six eight two twenty. He's a playmaker. He's gonna be a match-up nightmare Watching him you see that he controls the court plays at his own speed and that gets him really lofty comparisons by a lot of film scouts one I see a lot is Luca Donchich, but actually Analytically Donchich is just barely Cunningham's top comp in my NBA draft model Cunningham did give up more turnovers that he manages assists at Oklahoma State. It's a bit of a red flag It's really rare to see a point guard have more turnovers than assists and be a top-ten pick That did apply to Jamal Murray as well though So, you know, I'm not that concerned Cunningham's just really good average over 20 points a game At Oklahoma State as a freshman had a true shooting percentage that puts him in the 67th percentile among drafted guards Since 2003 he just has all the traits of being a franchise changing talent