It happened in 1943 at a Texas army post. The young soldier was feeling mighty low. For six long weeks he'd rehearsed a song for a camp show, and now he was down with a case of laryngitis! What made it so tough was that Peter Lind Hayes was expected the following day. He was going to select the most talented applicants for the show.
This was the soldier's big chance, and now it was ruined! Then he started thinking. In his locker was a record of the world's most famous operatic tenor. He got it out, and went to work. First, he cut two disks from a sheet of writing paper, using a can of shoe polish as a guide. Next, he typed the title of the song he'd rehearsed and his own name on the paper. Then, he went to the company mess hall where he made some paste out of flour and water. Very carefully he pasted the homemade labels on either side of the record.
Hayes arrived on schedule, and at the proper moment the soldier approached him. He explained that he had a case of laryngitis brought on by the Texas dust, but that the doctor assured him he'd be okay in another day or two. "Will you listen to one of my records?" he asked anxiously.
Hayes agreed, and the soldier quickly put his doctored record on the phonograph. Hayes sat listening to the powerful voice, entranced. As the last note rang out, he sprung to his feet.
"Private," he exclaimed, "that's a scratchy recording. But you've got the greatest voice since Caruso. You're in the show!"
The soldier's name? Mario Lanza, of course. Who else?
