G. Cowan, himself Jewish and one of the guiding forces behind American WWII radio propaganda) primarily featured Jewish children like my dad. He was bright and likable. You wouldn’t want him to die. The program featured refugees and child escapees from the death camps, who described their experiences in detail. It translated “Children are adorable” into “Children need saving.” The forces that would condemn children like these to murder and cremation needed to be defeated. The star kids toured endlessly making live appearances, and by the end of the war the show had sold $120 million in war bonds. Quiz Kids made children interesting and then translated that interest into the push for victory.

After the war, Quiz Kids kept going—the focus changed to stuff like March of Dimesand teacher-of-the-year contests—but the urgency was gone, and the program’s popularity waned. The producers tried getting younger and cuter kids, but people were gradually losing interest in children. The “children are cute” market would never completely dry up, of course, but after children had been discovered, the next step was inevitable: the discovery of the teenager. This was a lot more interesting to nearly everybody. Soon teenagers had their own music, rock ’n’ roll, and they quickly came to dominate popular culture, nudging pre-adolescents out of the spotlight.

Quiz Kids lasted into the early age of television, and sadly, my father stayed on it almost until the end. He made regular appearances until he was 16 and suffered intense ridicule from his peers. In adulthood, he so regretted his