WOR wanted to put an end to its War and Peace with Jean Shepherd but Shepherd, the Pied Piper of the night people, seemed to have disappeared into the night. A "come home, all is forgiven" message went out from WOR yesterday to Shepherd, the egghead Arthur Godfrey, who was fired for giving a free commercial to a soap company. But Shepherd paid the station no mind. Who can blame him? Shepherd, who talked from 1 AM to 5:30 AM, had already been fired, rehired and fired in the past week by the station. But WOR wants to rehire his again because the soap company Shepherd plugged gratis wanted to hire him for money. So, a half-dozen station executives were in a tizzy, scouring the town, popping in at Shepherd's Greenwich Village haunts and running down 400 phone tips. The station had put ads in the newspapers and broadcast the "all is forgiven" message over the air - to no avail. There was no answer at Shepherd's New Jersey home phone number, either. "I just went down to the Ambassador Hotel to a sport magazine luncheon on a tip," said a WOR executive. "I didn't think much of the tip until I remembered Shepherd had this dissertation on 'modern Walter Mittyism' which had some connection with sports. He wasn't at the luncheon. The last time I saw Shepherd was Friday night at a drug store which had an autograph party for Shepherd's book, 'I, Libertine.' He promised me then that he would come to the studio on Monday. The last I say of him, he was heading for the Staten Island ferry with his mob." The deadline for finding Shepherd is Thursday Morning. The sponsored show is due to start this Sunday from 9:05 PM to 1 AM. If they don't find him, the station will substitute music from Studio X. "It's either Studio X or Mr. X," said a station spokesman. Shepherd was fired for the first time because his show, aimed at what he called the "night people," didn't attract sponsors. Shepherd claimed he could sell products as well as the next man if he got the chance to prove it. It all boiled down to a question of what came first, the chicken or the egg. WOR couldn't get a ponsor; Shepherd couldn't prove his point. Shepherd, who had been fired, was granted a reprieve after a crowd of his loyal followers held a "wake" at what remains of the old Wanamaker building after the fire. Then one night he said that a listener who had read somewhere that he had been fired because he couldn't sell soap phoned to suggest that it be a good idea if all Shepherd's listeners went out and bought a cake of soap to disprove that theory. "After all," said the listener, "we night people wash." Shepherd figured that was a good idea but what brand? He picked on Sweetheart Soap. He told his listeners to buy it, "and tell them Jean Shepherd sent you. Also be sure to say 'Excelsior.'" Bob Leder, general manager of the station, heard this and immediately had Shepherd cut off the air. Protests and threats of boycotts poured in from the "night people" and offers poured in to Shepherd from television shows. Then the agency for the soap called WOR to say it wanted to sponsor Shepherd Sunday nights from 9:05PM to 1 AM. The station cancelled several programs to accommodate the bill payer. But it couldn't find Shepherd. I heard Shepherd recently - he is called a disc jockey but he rarely plays a record - and he seemed to have a marvelous capacity for dragging out a subject; any subject. He was on his favorite kick that night - the night people versus the day people. It is a term which Shepherd invented, just as he invented the book, "I, Libertine." His philosophy is that the night people are individualistic; the day people regimented. The day people , whom he accuses of "creeping meatballism," live by red tape, switchboards, timetables. The night people are the thinkers of the world. His cult of followers aren't all night people but includes day people who want to join that bracket. A lady who works for an insurance company wrote in to say she went to bet at 7 PM just so she could get up at 1 AM to listen. He once began to talk about "I, Libertine," by Frederick R. Ewing. It was a book that was supposed to shake the faith of day people in their timetablism. Only there wasn't any such book. Ian Ballantine, a night person of Ballantine Books, decided to publish it, because the night people were badgering books stores for it. Shepherd and Theodore Sturgeon were the ghost writers on it. It was published last week and is selling great guns. They don't know much about Shepherd at the station, except that he was fired from a Cincinnati station and that he holds an MA in psychology. The station thinks that his talks on plankton (the food of the future), Mittyism and night people, "too sophisticated " for wide appeal. Long John, an ex-carnival man and auctioneer who replaced Shepherd, takes up such subjects as the latest development in the Bridey Murphy case and flying saucers. I TRUST Shepherd won't show up until the last possible moment for he seems to be the antithesis of everything broadcasting represents. He has struck a blow to this regimented industry and his latest peccadillo is a little like Henry Morgan in his heyday and Oscar Levant on the West Coast program. They aren't exactly alike but all three fought a battle against an industry which lives and dies by the judgement of sponsors and measures talent and creativity by the ability to sell as product.