Go Down Moses

Timothy Collins revisits a largely overlooked chapter of broadcasting and music history: the rise and decline of the Wings Over Jordan choir, a radio ensemble that once drew listeners from around the world. The group grew out of Gethsemane Baptist Church in Cleveland, where its founder, Rev. Glenn T. Settle, was pastor. In 1937, Settle won the backing of managers at WGAR, a station nicknamed the "Friendly Station," for a Sunday morning program called the Negro Hour. Worth T. Kramer, the station's white program director, trained the Gethsemane singers for these broadcasts that summer.

By the close of 1937, Kramer and Settle had secured a Sunday morning slot on the CBS Radio Network under the name Wings Over Jordan. Half-hour broadcasts reached audiences nationwide beginning in January 1938, and the show quickly grew in popularity. In the fall of 1938, the choir set out on a wide concert tour of the South in support of a production company owned by Black entrepreneurs, with Sunday programs carried from CBS affiliates along the route. Hundreds of thousands of Black and white listeners attended these concerts together, breaking down racial barriers in cities and towns across the country. The program attracted millions of listeners in the United States and, through the British Broadcasting Company, around the world.

Collins presents the program as a pioneer of civil rights broadcasting. Each episode combined spirituals conducted by Kramer, short reflections from Settle, and brief talks on current issues by mostly Black religious, educational, and business figures. Its message centered on racial healing. Early on, it showcased working-class singers with natural talent who had joined as volunteers out of religious devotion. Over time the group became more professional, performing spirituals on the radio and, during World War II, for the United Service Organization (USO) in Europe.

The choir left CBS in 1947 after a pay dispute but continued touring at home and abroad. The foreword by Louise Toppin compares the book to the film Hidden Figures, which brought to light the overlooked role of Black women mathematicians in NASA's spaceflight work. Toppin presents this book as recovering a similarly forgotten account of the choir's international fame and its contributions during an era of intense racism.