Chances are pretty good that if you randomly ask someone about New York Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia, they will mention him reading the comics over the radio. They may not know why, when or on which radio station, but people almost always seem to know about the readings. The original recordings, housed at the Municipal Archives, are what I call “aural icons”, unique moments in sound that frame the speaker for the ages. This is their back story.
LaGuardia reading the comics, 1945. NYPR Archive Collection.
In the summer of 1945, as World War II drew to a close, New York City faced an unexpected crisis: a newspaper delivery strike left millions of residents without their daily papers. For many New Yorkers, especially its children, this meant losing access to something they cherished nearly as much as the news itself—the funny papers. Enter Fiorello H. La Guardia, the city’s energetic and unconventional mayor, who responded with what would become the most iconic moments of his legendary tenure.
When the delivery drivers walked off the job in July 1945, New York’s newspapers continued to print, but they couldn’t reach readers’ doorsteps or local newsstands. The 17-day strike created a genuine hardship for the city’s residents, who relied on newspapers not just for information but for entertainment during the final months of the war. Children particularly missed a daily dose of adventure from strips like Dick Tracy, Little Orphan Annie, and other mainstays of the comic pages.
La Guardia, known affectionately as The Little Flower (a translation of his Italian first name), understood the public’s frustration. The mayor had built his reputation on connecting directly with ordinary New Yorkers, through his weekly Sunday radio broadcasts on the city-owned station WNYC. He decided to use this platform in an unprecedented way.
For his Talk to the People program broadcast over WNYC during the strike on July 1st, 8th, and 15th, LaGuardia arrived at his City Hall office with the comic sections from various newspapers. In his distinctive, high-pitched voice full of dramatic flair, the mayor read comics aloud to his radio audience. But this was no monotone recitation—La Guardia threw himself into the July 8th performance of Dick Tracy with enthusiasm.
It can be said that at moments he was a bit too enthusiastic with the oversized bold word balloons of sound effects. The Mayor’s “ripping” and “crashing” challenged both the WNYC engineer and his equipment.
The following Sunday LaGuardia had just sworn in three new magistrates to City agencies. To underscore the point that he was bringing on men of integrity, the mayor read from Little Orphan Annie where judges were conspiring to frame the young heroine. The lesson from this story, he said, was that “sometimes prejudice and hatred get into the hearts of men who’ve sworn to almighty God to uphold the law… that’s why these judges I picked today, they come from homes like you and me. They come with experience. They entertain no prejudices. They’re just folks. Decent. Honest. Clean.”
Families gathered around their radios on Sunday mornings, children sitting rapt as their mayor transformed into a one-man theater company. Five movie news reel cameras, invited to his office after the sensation of the first broadcast, taped the event.
Film footage from 1945 of Mayor LaGuardia reading the comics and families listening. NYPR Archive Collections
Rarely noted too is that before LaGuardia’s initial comic reading on his July 1 broadcast, the mayor requested WNYC Director Morris Novik to broadcast a daily comics program.
“And listen, Morris, every afternoon, I want you to pick the time, and do not tell me that you do not have the time on the program—put something out—because you know that all of your programs are not so hot, so you can always find some space. I want a program every day as long as the papers are not being delivered, of funnies for the children. You find someone who can read the funnies and who can describe them, and if you cannot find anyone, I will do it.”
Novik indeed found people. Among them, personalities like Harry Hershfield, Peter Donald, and Irving Fisher from NBC’s Can You Top This program who read for the WNYC program christened, The Comic Parade.
The comic reading sessions lasted only a few weeks until the strike ended, but their impact endured far longer. The broadcasts have become part of New York City folklore, frequently cited as an example of LaGuardia’s unique ability to connect with everyday residents. For many New Yorkers who heard them as children, the memory of the mayor’s voice dramatically reading their favorite strips remained vivid decades later.
The episode also demonstrated the power of radio as an intimate medium during this era. LaGuardia understood that the airwaves allowed him to enter people’s homes directly, creating a personal connection that transcended the formality of his office. His comic readings weren’t just a wartime stopgap—they were a masterclass in communications and outreach.
Yet the image of “The Little Flower” reading comics over the radio holds a special place in the city’s collective memory. It captured something essential about what made LaGuardia beloved: his understanding that government service meant serving all the people, in ways both grand and small. Whether he was taking on Tammany Hall corruption or ensuring kids didn’t miss “Little Orphan Annie,” LaGuardia approached his duties with the same passionate commitment.
Today, the original recordings and digital copies of LaGuardia reading the comics are preserved in the Municipal Archives WNYC Collection. Digital copies can also be found at the Vincent Voice Library at Michigan State University, the New York Public Radio archives, and the Library of Congress. In 2007 the readings were added to the library’s National Recording Registry which called the broadcasts, “one of the most interesting and, historically, certainly most memorable uses of the medium.” https://www.loc.gov/static/programs/national-recording-preservation-board/documents/LaGuardiaComics.pdf
The Registry recognized the lasting cultural impact of these broadcasts by understanding “the social function of comics to its adult readers,” calling it “the mark of a true populist—to actually understand what's important to people, even the stuff they wouldn’t normally admit to.”