The Great Detectives of Old Time Radio is an archive-minded crime drama feed with a steady hand on the door. Adam Graham introduces vintage detective, police, and adventure programs from Boise, Idaho, then lets the old broadcasts do their work. The format is simple and useful. A short frame sets up the series, the performer, the original air date, or the reason for an encore, and then the listener is dropped into staged danger. The cases come with sharp corners. A brunette walks into a detective office with a pearl-handled revolver, a police lineup places suspects under cold lights, and a shipboard story turns suddenly toward fog, loss, and conspiracy. Other episodes reach beyond the usual file drawer. The show brings in rare pilots, little-known treasures, comedy-tinged detective riffs, and specials that trace the careers of radio actors across different roles. Barton Yarborough Week gives that archival habit a clear shape, using encore programs to follow a performer through supporting parts, sidekick work, and villain turns. Graham's commentary is conversational, but the main attraction remains the preserved rhythm of radio drama. Scenes turn on phone calls, rooms, notes under doors, sudden entrances, and voices that know how to throw a threat across a room. The tone can be dry. It can also go grave in a hurry. That range is part of the appeal, because these stories treat ordinary objects as evidence and ordinary rooms as places where someone may be lying. Fans of Dragnet, Johnny Dollar, Richard Diamond, The Line Up, and similar series will find familiar procedural bones. Listeners newer to old-time radio get enough context to follow why a cast member, pilot, or production detail matters. The feed also has the practical fingerprints of a long-running independent archive, including listener support notes, social links, encore notices, and warnings that old offers may no longer apply. Those housekeeping pieces are part of the texture, not the case itself. At its best, the show feels like a well-labeled evidence box from the golden age of radio. Open it, and the shadows still know their lines.