I think they have, for the most part. A few stations might still broadcast it on Halloween. But it’s cool to see how long and how far this thing has resonated. Even listening to it in 2016 gives you the chills. You can only imagine what it was like in 1938.

It’s so minimal too. Just some people in a room making noises, capturing everyone’s imagination for an hour.

There’s a pretty decent film from the ’70s called The Night That Panicked America. It’s pretty much a play-by-play of how the night unfolded at the radio station. They show you where Orson Welles was during each moment of the broadcast, and what they used to make all the different sounds.

I think they made the grinding noise of the spaceship opening ⎯ which is a very cool noise ⎯ by running a mic all the way down to the restroom and having one of the station’s secretaries open a jar inside a toilet bowl.

Tons of stuff like that. They had to choreograph everything to get those real-time noises because none of it was prerecorded.

What was production like on Embers & Dust?

Well, one of the big hurdles with passion projects like this is finding the funding. Especially when it’s a short film. Nobody is looking to invest in one. I suppose if it does well enough and goes to enough festivals, it can recoup some losses; but that’s never the point. The point is to make it.

So even before I learned about the Musicbed Film Initiative, I’d been trying to figure out a way of funding this thing. I had the treatment written, and I was about to start an Indiegogo campaign. I kid you not, I had the whole thing laid out and was ready to hit launch when I found out my film was the top selection at Musicbed’s Film Initiative.