024- Papa Benjamin -national broadcast different production

You are groping down a dark alleyway in the French Quarter of New Orleans, driven by terror, hounded by the curse of the papaloy, a curse from which there is no escape. Escape.

Reduced by William N. Robeson and carefully contrived to free you from the four walls of today, for a half hour of high adventure. Today we escape into two worlds. One of modern jazz, the other of primitive Voodoo, and to a doomed man who brought them together. As William Irish imagined it in his eerie story,

Papa Benjamin. I'm always pleased to pop on fourth precinct Sergeant Tolliver speaking. Yeah? Yeah? Well, pick him up on a drunk 7-2-3. Right. Yes, what can I do for you?

Are you in charge, huh? Yeah. Hey, aren't you Eddie Block, the band leader? That's right. Hey, Joe, look who's here, Eddie Block. Well, never thought we'd get a visit from a big celebrity like you, Mr. Block.

In at four o'clock in the morning, I suppose though, this is just the shank of evening for a big shot orchestra leader. Hell, what can we do for you, Mr. Block? I've just killed a man.

You're kidding. I tell you, I've just killed a man. I guess you've been working too hard, Mr. Block. You're imagining things. Here's the gun. Look at him. Sit down, Block. Better have drink of water. You'll feel better.

No, no, no. I'm all right. Sarge? Yeah? This gun's been used to all right. Smell. Uh, wasn't an accident, Mr. Block? No. Who'd you use it on? Who was it? I don't know his name.

They call him Papa Benjamin. Sounds like him. Yeah. white man? No, he was an eagle. Well, now in Orleans. No, no, no, no, it was nothing like that. What was he doing to you? He was killing me. Killing it? But how? Look at me. I used to wait 200 pounds. I'm down to 102. But how was he killing you? Would you believe in anything you can't see,