Radio Days (Part IV): A Homecoming of Sorts and "Grandma, Can I Have a CD Player?

With the decade of the 1980s progressing into its latter half, the twists and turns of my radio career landed me in my home state of Missouri, much to my delight. The setting for the new job was in a rural, small-town located in the northern part of the state quite close to the Iowa border. The following is the fourth in a series of essays about my life as a broadcaster. Time Frame: 1985-1986.

With two seemingly long years in northwest Oklahoma working at KSIW under my belt, my desire to move on was growing increasingly more intense. I had sent out many audition tapes containing what I thought was my best work. These cassette tapes contained an air check of a recent shift and samples of some of my commercial production. (I was fortunate that management had relaxed recently its policy against allowing jocks to do production or to even say their names on air.)

At last, I got the break I wanted. After finishing an afternoon airshift, I came home to find a blinking red light and a surprising message on my answering machine. (Remember, this was 1985.)

I pushed 'playback', and I heard a pleasant-sounding woman's voice. She identified herself as Carla Robinson, the Program Director for KRXL-FM (XL-94) in Kirksville, Missouri. She said that she had just listened to my tape and was interested in talking to me about doing 'afternoon drive' there. When I returned her call, I scheduled an interview. About a week or so after our initial meeting, I was delighted to learn that I had landed the gig. Apparently, the interview had gone well, and I was ecstatic.

I was doing afternoon drive at a regional powerhouse in my home state of Missouri. (At left, my Mom and I were checking out the 'Radio Park' building that housed both KRXL and companion station, KIRX-AM. Both she and my Dad, who shot the photo, came to visit me at the station during my employment there.) At the time, 'XL-94' as it was called, was a 100,000-watt, Adult-Contemporary FM station that that covered the entire northeast quarter of Missouri (and much southeast Iowa, as well). The stations were in the hands of Vera Burk, an elderly and kindly widow who was left in charge after her husband, the founder of KRXL-KIRX, had died in 1982.

Vera's grandson, 'Burk' Forsythe, was XL-94's weekend and fill-in jock who for all intents and purposes called virtually all the shots at the station despite the fact, as I mentioned above, that Carla Robinson was in name, the PD. Carla, however, did render the personnel decisions since she recruited, interviewed, and hired me. But Burk, because of his family relationship, made most the other decisions.

Burk wasn't really that great of an air personality, but he was unquestionably an audiophile. And, I think his pull with Grandma Vera was essentially the reason why XL-94, a small market radio station in rural Missouri, had a CD player in September, 1985, a time when the overwhelming majority of commercial radio stations didn't. (Our unit look looked a lot like the one pictured on the left.) Unfortunately, players of the time weren't designed to withstand repeated usage as broadcasting situations require. Ours was no exception, and after some two months of use, our player couldn't play a CD without it skipping. Much to Burk's dismay, Grandma Vera said no to a new one. And thus, XL-94 was relegated to using cart players and turntables for the remainder of my time spent working there.

Along with the dawn of new digital recording technology, 1985 and 1986 was a momentous time for both news and pop music. I'll never forget how on the afternoon of January 28,1986, I came into my shift during which we were airing continuous wall-to-wall coverage of the horrific Space Shuttle Challenger disaster:

I remember that it was a difficult segue for me when I had to go back to playing music later that afternoon.

Also during my stint at XL-94, a HUGE sports story, at least for Missourians, occurred. The national media had dubbed it, 'The I-70 World Series'. Because of its geographic location, Kirksville seemed to be divided equally between Cardinals and Royals fans rabidly routing for their respective teams. For the record, the folks at KRXL-KIRX were decidedly pro-St. Louis since KIRX was a Cardinal network affiliate.

Musically, the pop songs we played at XL-94 were mostly synthesized, rhythmic dance tunes that all came accompanying videos that got extensive play on either MTV or VH-1. (Yes, this was the time when MTV actually played music!) While officially Adult Contemporary, XL-94 strayed heavily into Top-40 or CHR music. Billboard magazine had St. Elmo's Fire (Man In Motion)" by John Parr listed at Number One my first week in Kirksville , and XL-94 had it in heavy rotation.

I also remember these tunes during my time there.

For the most part, it was a great time for pop music, and a great time for being in radio. I look back at my time at XL-94 as a rewarding experience where I got to refine my broadcasting skills and work with a pretty decent group of people.

Unfortunately, my job came to sudden end under less than ideal circumstances. It seems that I made the bad move of recording an air-check over an 'unmarked' sales demo tape I found in the production studio without asking if it was okay. As it turned out, this tape belonged to the sales manager, and after one thing led to another, I was shown the door.

Coming up: Rock Radio and 'Lock It In and Rip the Knob Off' in Indiana...

Radio Days (Part III): Culture Shock and "What's the Barometric Pressure?"

During the mid 1980s, my radio career took a dramatic turn. From the vibrant and dynamic lifestyle of Florida's Gulf Coast, I suddenly found myself thrust in a rural, isolated and of course, conservative backwater located in Northwest Oklahoma. The following is the third in a series of essays about my life as a broadcaster. Time Frame: 1983-1985.

After Florida fizzled out, I more or less stumbled my way back to St. Louis. I was virtually penniless from basically binging and partying away the small amount of savings that I had acquired. My parents less than enthusiastically took me in for what turned to be the last time I actually lived under their roof.

After the first day or so of niceties, my folks quickly guided my attention toward getting a job. I honestly thought that at this point that my career in radio was over. So I was not offended when my parents began presenting me help-wanted ads for insurance sales jobs.

Nevertheless, I kept hearing this little voice in my head. It kept telling me, "the Broadcast Center offers lifetime placement for their students". I reminded my folks about this service, and they basically said, "go for it!" So, I paid the school a visit.

I must have struck while the iron was hot because the Broadcast Center called within literally hours after my visit about about an opening. They told me it was at a station completely staffed by Center graduates. They must thought that this was the stronger selling point about the job because they withheld its location until I asked.

"Woodward, Oklahoma", they said. "It's in the northwest corner of the state near the panhandle." I asked about the format. They said the station, KSIW, is a full-service AM station that plays Country that's coupled with an automated FM station, KSIW-FM, that plays Top 40.

For some reason I was reluctant. But I was quickly reminded that I was lucky to have this opportunity, and I took it. In about a week, I made the trip out.

It was kind of a dismaying trip to me. The further west I went, it seemed towns, trees and radio stations became fewer in number. After I got about 60 miles west of Enid, Oklahoma, my FM car radio went totally silent. I switched to AM, however, and I was reassured in the fact that I was still able to pick up a couple of "blowtorches" from Tulsa and Oklahoma City.

I finally pulled into dusty and desolate Woodward. The smell of manure was ample. Everyone wore Western attire and waved at you as you drove by. (This by the way is not an act as I later learned. The people in this area are really that friendly.) I really felt like I was on a different planet. I was able to pick up only two FM stations, and on one of them (KSIW-FM as it turned out), I heard an almost prophetic song telling me to turn around. It was Bonnie Tyler's 1983 hit, "Total Eclipse of the Heart".





I decided to stick it out, and settled into being gainfully employed at KSIW-AM and FM. This operation was run with quite the iron hand. Ed Ryan, an elderly Oklahoma cowboy, owned and ran the station, and it was his way or the highway.

When I came to town, a brand-new, 100,000-watt FM country station (KWOX-FM, K-101) just opened for business, and they were, more or less, taking the area by storm. Meanwhile, the folks at KSIW, who were used to having the market to themselves, continued along business as usual. It was their little money maker, and programming was a totally foreign concept.

KSIW had a number of peculiar rules by which on-air personnel had to abide.We were announcers, not deejays or air personalities. We were never allowed to say our names.

Also, we were never permitted to segue one song into another. Between EVERY record, we were required to back announce the song, give the complete weather forecast along with current conditions including the humidity, wind speed, temperature and barometric pressure. Finally,then, we introduced the next song.

Pity the poor announcer who forgot to mention the barometric pressure. It seems an elderly woman named Leona meticulously kept track of it. She would instantly call the station, and ask in her deliberate and elederly voice, "what's the barometric pressure?" I thought at the time that this lady needs to get a life, and it became somewhat of a running joke among us announcers. But I later learned Leona survived the infamous Woodward tornado of 1947,one of the worst in U.S. history. She was not as batty as I previously thought because before Doppler radar, the barometer was about the only tool around that gave people a little bit of a tornado warning.

Also, all the commercial production was done by the sales staff. There were many instances when I thought I wouldn't be able to further my broadcast career because I wasn't able to put together a decent air check or getting any experience learning audio production. It seemed to me that the the ownership should have automated the AM station considering all the restriction they placed on the announcers.

Despite these rules, I still managed to have fun, and I made some pretty good friends. As I previously stated, the people in this part of the country are very courteous. I joined a health club that offered a swimming pool. I swam laps there at least two to three times a week, and I was able to keep myself in pretty good shape. I also began spinning records at Woodward's one-and-only night club called "Chaps". Even though I played a mix of pop and country songs, the crowds were decidedly partial to two-stepping. They two-stepped to the likes of George Strait and Huey Lewis and the News.

Early in 1985, the owner, Ed Ryan, suffered a debilitating stroke. His daughter-in-law soon took over operations because of his illness. Because of this change and the realization that it was losing virtually all its business to the competitor across the street, KSIW decided to start giving its announcers a little more freedom. The station actually began promoting itself. I remember KSIW began giving a away bumper stickers that contained a coupon for a local pizza joint.

Now, the announcers were allowed to say their names, perform specific shifts (mine was 7 PM-to-Midnight) and create commercial production. It was definitely a change for the better.

Unfortunately for KSIW, this freedom enabled their announcers a chance to showcase their broadcasting skills on airchecks. One-by-one, each announcer came with the news that they were leaving for greener pastures. I was no exception. I soon got an offer to do afternoon drive at a 100,000-watt rock station in my home state of Missouri.

There are several songs, both country and pop, that I'll always associate with KSIW.

I remember airing these tunes on 1450 KSIW-AM, which was country.







Meantime, 93.5 KSIW-FM, our automated sister station, was the only outlet that played pop music within a 100-mile radius of Woodward. It was on this station where I first heard these tunes.









Coming up: Back home in Missouri