Then, effortlessly, he transitions to his guest-a native, of course, of Flint, Michigan: “Hearing that song of the thirties, of the Flint sit-down strike of labor, the CIO” Terkel says, stressing thirties and C-I-O, before drawing out the connection, “seated next to Michael Moore.” With impeccable timing, he brings the volume down by lowering his hands. We’re gonna roll the union.”Īt this moment, the rascally radio hand is north of eighty, but he’s no old man lost in a reverie. His microphone before him, Terkel stammers and murmurs the lyrics: “We’re gonna roll. Outfitted in his signature red sweater-his white-maned head dwarfed by oversize earphones-he moves his arms to orchestrate the music, never mind that it’s a recording. “One more verse!” he barks several times to an off-camera radio crew. One of the greatest ever.” The song is rousing, but it is Terkel-and his endearing, revealing reaction to it-who captivates.
Handcox’s classic folk song Roll the Union On, which Pete Seeger, who ought to know, once called, “a great picket line song.
Midway through the documentary, in which Moore travels the country hawking his book Downsize This!, the provocateur filmmaker drops in on Terkel at 98.7 WFMT, the Chicago radio station that was home to Terkel’s interview program for over four decades.Įxcited to have him, Terkel cues up John L. The famed broadcaster and author had enough friends and acquaintances to last several lifetimes, so it’s no surprise when he pops up in Michael Moore’s 1998 film The Big One.
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