BING CROSBY: THE SUPERSTAR WHO QUIETLY LET OTHERS SHINE

One of the lesser-known chapters of Bing Crosby's life was his habit of helping fellow entertainers when their careers, finances, or health were in trouble. Friends and biographers often described Crosby as a man who kept a private "take care of" list of people he wanted to help. Instead of making public announcements, he quietly found jobs, offered loans, and used his influence to support those who had fallen on hard times. 

In 1950, Garland's life was in crisis. She had been fired by MGM, was battling personal problems, and her future in show business appeared uncertain. At a time when many in Hollywood distanced themselves from troubled stars, Bing Crosby stood by her. He invited Garland to become a regular guest on his highly popular Chesterfield radio program, giving her a national platform when she desperately needed work and positive publicity. 

Garland appeared repeatedly on Crosby's show, and the exposure helped restore public confidence in her talents. The renewed visibility contributed to the comeback that led to her celebrated London Palladium engagement and later career revival. Crosby did not simply offer sympathy; he provided employment and an audience. 

Long before either became famous, Bing Crosby and jazz singer Mildred Bailey were connected through Spokane's music scene. Bailey was the sister of Crosby's musical partner Al Rinker and played an important role in the early development of his career. She introduced Crosby and her brother to musical influences that shaped their jazz style, and both eventually rose to national fame. 

Years later, when Bailey's health declined because of diabetes and other medical problems, financial difficulties followed. Crosby never forgot his old friend. Sources indicate that he provided financial loans and assistance to Bailey during periods of illness and economic hardship. He remained supportive when many performers found their careers fading because of health problems. 

Their friendship was a reflection of Crosby's loyalty. He remembered those who had helped him on the way up and tried to return that kindness when they needed it most. 

Another beneficiary of Crosby's generosity was Rosemary Clooney. After suffering from mental health and personal struggles that severely damaged her career in the 1960s, Clooney found herself largely absent from the spotlight. Crosby invited his White Christmas co-star to join his 50th anniversary tour in 1976, helping reintroduce her to audiences around the world. That opportunity became a major turning point in her successful comeback. Clooney never forgot Crosby's support and often spoke warmly about their friendship and professional partnership.

According to Crosby biographer Gary Giddins, the singer frequently used his influence in film, radio, and television to help friends find work. Many of these acts never became public knowledge because Crosby disliked taking credit for charitable deeds. Instead, he quietly arranged jobs, offered financial assistance, and helped struggling performers maintain their dignity.

Bing Crosby's legacy is usually measured in record sales, hit films, and radio ratings. Yet an equally important part of his story is the number of people he helped along the way. Whether it was giving Judy Garland a chance to rebuild her career, helping Mildred Bailey through financial and health struggles, or offering Rosemary Clooney an opportunity for a fresh start, Crosby repeatedly used his success to lift others up... 

THE INTERNATION CLUB CROSBY MEETING - NOVEMBER 2026

 

BING CROSBY - THE WAR YEARS

 

BING'S PASSING - 49 YEARS LATER

 Remembering the sad day of Bing's death - October 14, 1977...

BING AND THE SOLDIERS FAR FROM HOME

When Americans think of Bing Crosby, they often think of White Christmas, smooth vocals, and the golden age of radio. But during World War II, Crosby became something more than an entertainer. For thousands of American servicemen stationed far from home, he was a familiar voice that offered comfort, hope, and a reminder of what they were fighting to protect. 

Following the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, the United States mobilized for war. Like millions of other Americans, Crosby wanted to contribute. Although he registered for the draft, his age and family status made active military service unlikely. Instead, government officials and military leaders recognized that he could serve the war effort more effectively through entertainment, fundraising, and morale-building activities.

Crosby's support began almost immediately. In January 1942, responding to a request connected to General Douglas MacArthur's forces in the Philippines, he transmitted his radio program by shortwave to American troops trapped at Corregidor. At a time when military news was grim and uncertainty filled the air, hearing a familiar American voice carried tremendous emotional value for soldiers thousands of miles from home. 

As the war continued, Crosby became one of the most active participants in the Armed Forces Radio Service. He appeared on military radio programs such as Command Performance, Mail Call, and GI Journal, helping deliver entertainment directly to American forces stationed around the world. More than simple variety shows, these broadcasts connected troops with the culture and personalities they remembered from home. 

His influence extended beyond the radio microphone. Crosby joined major war-support efforts, including the Hollywood Victory Caravan, a traveling show featuring some of the biggest names in entertainment. The tour raised substantial funds for military relief organizations while demonstrating Hollywood's commitment to the war effort.

Perhaps Crosby's most meaningful contribution came through his overseas USO tours. He spent approximately 25 weeks entertaining servicemen in Britain, France, and Belgium, often performing under difficult and unpredictable wartime conditions. Unlike a concert in a grand theater, many of these performances took place near military operations, where audiences consisted of men preparing for battle or recovering from its hardships.

One song became especially associated with Crosby and the wartime experience: White Christmas. Although written by Irving Berlin and first recorded by Crosby in 1942, the song carried a deeper meaning during the war years. To civilians, it evoked holiday nostalgia. To soldiers stationed overseas, it represented memories of family gatherings, hometown streets, and peaceful lives interrupted by war. 

During a December 1944 USO tour in Europe, Crosby performed for troops only days before the Battle of the Bulge. Reports from the period describe the emotional impact of hearing White Christmas in front of thousands of soldiers who longed to be home for the holidays. For many in the audience, the song became a powerful reminder of what awaited them when the war finally ended. 

The soldiers never forgot his efforts. At the end of World War II, readers of Yank, the Army's weekly magazine, voted Crosby the individual who had done the most to boost troop morale overseas. The recognition reflected not only his popularity but also the genuine connection he forged with the men and women serving their country. 

Years later, letters exchanged between Crosby and American servicemen revealed just how much his work meant. Many soldiers wrote to thank him for bringing moments of joy during some of the darkest days of the twentieth century. The correspondence showed that his contribution was not measured in military victories or battlefield achievements, but in something equally important: helping people maintain hope.

Today, Bing Crosby's wartime legacy stands as a reminder that service comes in many forms. While others carried rifles, flew bombers, or served aboard ships, Crosby helped sustain morale through music and friendship. His songs crossed oceans, reached foxholes and military camps, and gave countless Americans a brief but precious connection to home. In a world at war, that gift mattered more than words could express...

INTERNATIONAL CLUB CROSBY MEETING - OCTOBER 2026

 

PHOTOS OF THE DAY: BING IN THE RECORDING STUDIO

Bing Crosby was a giant among recording artists. Here are some candid shots of Bing at the recording studio...

with Judy Garland

with Frank Sinatra

with Eddie Condon

BING CROSBY - THE EARLY DECCA YEARS

 Here is part three of an original production I did on the career and life of Bing Crosby...

NEW CD: BING CROSBY - KRAFT MUSIC HALL TIME volume 3

This 2 CD set is a time capsule of Bing's halcyon radio days, drawing together a selection of songs from 1937-1946 that have never appeared on CD. Kraft Music Hall Time Volume 3 is a remarkable 2-CD collection preserving Bing Crosby's celebrated radio broadcasts from Kraft Music Hall between 1937 and 1946. Drawing together performances, introductions, and lighthearted banter that have largely never before appeared on CD, this set offers an authentic snapshot of Crosby at the height of his popularity during the golden age of American radio. Presented in digitally remastered sound, these recordings capture both his effortless vocal style and the relaxed charm that made him one of entertainment's most beloved personalities.

Spanning nearly a decade of broadcasts, the collection features an outstanding selection of standards, popular songs, Hawaiian melodies, patriotic favorites, and romantic ballads, reflecting the extraordinary versatility that defined Crosby's career. Alongside timeless performances of songs including 'Where the Blue of the Night,' 'Sleepy Lagoon,' 'It Might as Well Be Spring,' and 'I Can't Begin to Tell You,' listeners also experience the warmth and spontaneity of the original radio programs through preserved studio exchanges and commentary.

Released by Sepia Records, Kraft Music Hall Time Volume 3 serves as both an invaluable historical archive and an entertaining listening experience, making it an essential addition for Bing Crosby enthusiasts, collectors of vintage radio, and admirers of classic American popular music.

Track Listing

Disc 1:

Hail KMH
Smile, Darn Ya, Smile; Daddy, Dear Old Daddy
Delightful Delirium
To You Sweetheart Aloha
The Trail of the Lonesome Pine
Rendezvous with a Dream
Down Where the Trade Winds Blow
Let's Waltz for Old Time's Sake
Whistle While You Work
I'd Love to Live in Loveland
You're the Only Star in My Blue Heaven
Blow the Smoke Away (Then Your Pipe Goes Out)
The Flat Foot Floogie
Blue Orchids
Naturally
Small Fry
The Moon of Manakoora
Blues My Naughty Sweetie Gives to Me
Little Sir Echo
Where Are You?
Ti Pi Tin
Oh! You Crazy Moon
Thanks for Everything
You’re Here You’re There You’re Everywhere
My Little Buckaroo
That Old Feeling
I Simply Adore You
Summer Souvenirs
Two Bouquets
Where the Blue of the Night

Disc 2:
It's Love, Love, Love
When the Swallows Come Back to Capistrano
The Woodpecker Song
Sleepy Lagoon
Dream Valley
Saturday Night (Is the Loneliest Night of the Week)
Kentucky Babe
Yours
Careless
The Blues
Last Night's Gardenias
Together
Anchors Aweigh/The Marines' Hymn
You Are Too Beautiful
Wait and See
This Heart of Mine
Ridin’ Herd on a Cloud
It Might as Well be Spring
I Used to Love You (But It's all Over Now)
These Things You Left Me
My Heart Tells Me
Two Sleepy People
Dance with a Dolly
Shoo-Fly Pie and Apple Pan Dowdy
I Can't Begin to Tell You
Down By the Ohio
I Know That You Know
We Mustn't Say ‘Goodbye’
Additional Details

A SEASON TO HIS VOICE: BING'S SUMMER SONGS

There’s a certain kind of summer that doesn’t come from a thermometer or a calendar—it arrives on a breeze carrying music. And if you happen to wander into that golden, memory-lit season, chances are you’ll hear Bing Crosby somewhere in the distance, his voice drifting like warm air through an open window.

Bing Crosby wasn’t known as “the voice of summer” the way he was for Christmas, but listen a little closer and you’ll discover that he recorded songs that hold summer just as beautifully—songs that feel like lazy afternoons, porch swings, and the hum of cicadas at dusk.

One of Crosby’s most charming summer recordings is “In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening” (1951), a duet with Jane Wyman that earned an Academy Award for Best Original Song. It’s not about blazing sunshine—it’s about what comes after. The song lives in that perfect twilight moment when the heat finally breaks. Crosby’s voice softens as if it, too, has been waiting all day for relief. He sings of plans made when the air turns gentle again—dancing, dreaming, and lingering outside just a little longer than you should. It captures the kind of summer evening where time stretches, where conversations drift, and where even silence feels companionable.

Though its title sounds contradictory, “June in January” plays like a love letter to summer itself—or rather, to the feeling of it. Crosby recorded the song in the mid-1930s, and it quickly became tied to his relaxed, romantic style. The idea is simple: true warmth doesn’t depend on the season. With the right person—or the right memory—it can feel like June even in the dead of winter. In Crosby’s hands, though, the imagery leans unmistakably summery. You can almost see it: soft light, open skies, and a world that feels easy and full of promise.

Crosby also recorded “Summertime,” the haunting lullaby from George Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess. His interpretation is gentler than some, less rooted in blues and more in a dreamy stillness. This version of summer isn’t playful—it’s languid. It’s the kind of day when the air is thick, when movement slows, and when everything feels suspended between sleep and waking. Crosby doesn’t push the song; he lets it float, revealing another face of summer—the quiet, heavy kind that wraps around you like a blanket you didn’t realize you needed.

Even when Crosby wasn’t singing explicitly about the season, his recordings often carried a summer sensibility. His phrasing was unhurried, his tone conversational, as if he were leaning back in a wicker chair rather than performing under hot stage lights. Songs like “Moonlight Becomes You” or “I’ll Be Seeing You” might not mention summer at all, but they feel like it—like evenings spent outdoors, watching the sky change colors while a radio hums softly in the background.

That was Crosby’s gift: he didn’t just interpret songs; he created space inside them—space for memory, for weather, for the listener’s own season to settle in.

Listening to Bing Crosby’s summer songs today feels less like revisiting a time period and more like stepping into a mood—one that hasn’t aged so much as mellowed. His summer isn’t loud or frenetic. There are no crashing waves or blaring horns. Instead, it’s made of small, enduring moments: the first cool breeze after sunset, laughter carried across a yard, and the quiet satisfaction of not needing to be anywhere else.

In a world that often rushes from one season to the next, Crosby’s recordings invite you to linger, to let summer unfold at its own pace, and to remember that sometimes the most meaningful warmth isn’t the one that burns the brightest, but the one that stays with you long after the sun has gone down. And if you listen carefully, you might find that summer—his summer—is still playing...