A Kindergartner's Take on That Dark Time, 50 Years Ago

Folks often ask the question, "do you remember where you were and what you were doing?" when they recall momentous, and often infamous historical dates during their lives. Today, we observe the 50th anniversary of that terrible day in Dallas, Texas, where President John F. Kennedy was gunned down during the prime of his life. Since I was a 6-year-old kid back then, I believe that I may be one of the youngest persons alive who can actually recall that time. Most anyone who was younger than five or six back when JFK was assassinated is unlikely, I believe, to have any memory of it.

During the fall of 1963, I had entered Kindergarten at a suburban St. Louis grade school where I went to school for just half the day in the morning. So on that infamous Friday 50 years ago, I had apparently just gotten home from school when the shots rang out. I don't recall what I was doing when it actually happened, but I do remember my mother being very upset later that afternoon when she told my older brothers upon returning home from their schools that President Kennedy had been assassinated. I wasn't sure what that word meant, but I knew it was something really awful because when she said it, she was crying. (By the way, a family friend took the photo of me displayed on the right on Thanksgiving Day in 1963, which was less than a week after the assassination.)

Perhaps, it's more accurate to state that I recall the events during the immediate aftermath of Kennedy's death, than the actual, horrific deed itself. Many historians believe that JFK's assassination ushered in the age of television news. Fifty years ago, three broadcast networks basically dominated television, and all three, CBS, NBC and ABC, were giving this story wall-to-wall news coverage. As a result, my next memory of that time came on the following Sunday (November 24). While televised live before a national audience, JFK's accused killer, Lee Harvey Oswald, was fatally shot while police were transferring him to the county jail. I can remember vividly my mother shrieking in horror as my family and I watched this attack unfold before our eyes on our black-and-white TV.

The next day, November 25, 1963, I can remember watching the wall-to-wall coverage of the funeral procession, where a riderless horse was pulling a carriage holding JFK's flag-draped coffin to Arlington National Cemetery. I remember wondering what kind a man was Kennedy at the time. After watching John-John's iconic salute to his father's coffin, I began wondering about his kids who were about the same age as me. I wondered if they were sad as the concept of death was still pretty new to me.

The Kennedy assassination had a profound impact on me. Beforehand, all I knew was basically my family, my school, and my dog. But afterwards, my concept of the world increased exponentially. For the first time, I discovered the existence of news, history and the politics that shapes them. Moreover, the Kennedy assassination made me aware of my own mortality.

THE FIRST ROAR

It was sometime during the summer of 1964; I don't remember the exact date. The hometown St. Louis Cardinals were in the middle of one of the most fantastic pennant drives in baseball history. However, as a six-year-old kid, I was oblivious to this fact when I attended my first major league ball game. I barely knew the difference between a ball and a strike when my father took me and my older brothers to watch the Redbirds take on the New York Mets at OLD, OLD Busch Stadium (formerly known as Sportsman's Park).

This venue was where I first heard the ROAR. It happened while we were sitting in our general admission seats on the upper deck. The game at the time meant little to me as I was fixated mostly on the spectacle of seeing the largest mass of humanity I had ever seen gathered before my young eyes.

Then suddenly, cork...ROOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAARRRRR!!!!!!

Tens of thousands of people were standing and cheering loudly. The sound reminded me of the noise my toy walkie-talkie made when the volume on its static was turned all the way up. I looked at my Dad with a mix of surprise and puzzlement. He knew I didn't know what the hell was going on and told me, "The Cardinals just got a hit."

Over the years since that first game, I have become quite an avid, and I'd like to think, a knowledgeable fan of the Cardinals and the sport, in general. Now, I've heard that roar in the following years during many exciting and memorable moments at differing venues. However, none of those instances have equaled how the sensation felt when I experienced it for the first time.

   

 

On the Mississippi

Check out my short clip..."On the Mississippi" http://t.co/BlwpHfJaUd via @youtube #MississippiRiver #StLouis #GatewayArch

— Joel Wells (@animule) August 10, 2013

Some Interesting Maps

I just love maps! While indiscriminately surfing the net last night, I came across a site called Rich Blocks, Poor Blocks. It's a site that can generate color-coded maps of every neighborhood in every city in America based on income and rental prices. Since I grew up in St. Louis, Missouri, I thought I'd produce a map of my old stomping ground based on income.




Really no surprises here! I'm quite aware of the wide disparity of income in the St. Louis area. One can find some of poshest mansions just mere miles from some of the most blighted slums in the United States. Actually this map, in my opinion, doesn't quite do this huge gap justice. But you can get the idea from it.

Since my current residence is Terre Haute, Indiana, I thought I'd add an income map of it as well. (Hey, it's my blog! lol)


Terre Haute also has an income gap, but not quite on the level that one sees in St. Louis. For the record, I live in an orange shaded area.

In another visualization project involving mapping, so to speak, I found an intriguing 'YouTube' video that mapped New Yorkers' bus usage in a randomly selected day. The video is called, 'New York transit (MTA): one day of activity'.



Finally, I leave you with some information about the border between the United States and Canada that I bet you weren't previously aware.



I love maps! What can i say?

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

My Brother

When I was four years old, I was convinced that Santa Claus existed. Moreover, it seems the imaginary hero paid a special visit that year (1961?) to our home in suburban St. Louis for Christmas. However, it was none other than my, then, 10-year-old brother, Tom, who wore that homemade red outfit along with those dime store costume whiskers.


Of course, I knew it was Tom. (The real Santa was down at the local shopping center!) Nevertheless, it did not matter. My next older brother, Tim and I enjoyed playing along because Tom hammed up the part so well. He wanted so bad to be Santa Claus to us, and he really made the role come alive.


Now, I don't recall any of the toys or material items I was given, but I will never forget that Christmas from my early childhood because of Tom’s kindhearted and selfless gift. Tom knew I was all about Santa Claus that year, and he went out of his way to make me feel special by making the fantasy come alive for me as best as he could.


Throughout his life, Tom has had this brilliant, creative flair for storytelling and acting. I remember spending many hours with him in his room listening to records . My father liked Classical music, and Tom took one of his LP's, Stravinsky’s ‘Firebird Suite’, and added a wonderful tale of his own making to go along with the soundtrack. The story was spellbinding, and Tom told it so well. I remember asking him to recite it repeatedly.


With the exception of a possible e-mail once or twice a year, I have, unfortunately, lost almost all contact with Tom through the passage of years. Several years ago, I learned recently that he had been battling clinical depression. Now, as he approaches 60, things for Tom have suddenly taken a dramatic turn for the worse. Doctors have recently diagnosed him as having brain atrophy. Apparently, there is no cure for it, and Tom won’t be to live independently for the rest of his life.


What a hideous turn of events! I’m not certain how much I believe in the power of prayer. Nevertheless, I plan to seek guidance from my higher power for hope and wisdom. I don’t believe all is lost. Perhaps, scientists will discover a remedy or technology that will slow, stall and possibly reverse this insidious disease that taking away my brother’s beautiful mind.

Still Boneheaded After All These Years...

This story must be put in some geographic and historic perspective.

St. Louis Most Dangerous City

Due to a boneheaded decision from the city's politicians during the 19th Century, St. Louis' city boundaries haven't changed since 1876. At the time, the boundary ran through mostly rural farmland adjacent to St. Louis County. The idea, shortsighted as it was, was to free the wealthier, urbane city folks from the tax burden of supporting the needs of their poorer, farming neighbors in the county.

As the years passed, St. Louis' urban area expanded into this county frontier, but the city's outer boundary did not. By the 1960s, most of the area's wealth and tax base resided in the county, which was a complete reversal of the situation when the boundary freeze was first enacted. Now, the 'city' of St. Louis...still separated from the county...contains mostly impoverished and blighted neighborhoods. And the 134-year-old boundary that's still in place now runs through some of the most urbanized terrain one could possibly see in the U.S.

Had St. Louis been allowed to expand and develop as most major American cities did (e.g., Indianapolis), suburbs like Clayton, Kirkwood, Webster Groves and Florissant would be city neighborhoods. And, the statistics from this study, I believe, would paint St. Louis in a much more favorable light.

I wonder how Chicago or New York would have fared in this study if they retained their 1876 city limits.