WLRS -- EARLY DAYS 1967 -- 69

[dbsteff]

Gee, I almost forgot about this little annoyance.

WLRS 1968 & SUITE 1008


As you may recall from my earlier offerings, the WLRS Studio was in suite 908 of the 800 Building at the time I was there...67--69.

The 800 used to have a web site which included the floor plans for their various apartments. Suite 908 was near the center of the building, but first apt to the west of center on the 9th floor.

It had a balcony facing south....this is only significant as it goes to another story, which I'll relate later.

ANYWAY!

The 800 Building was, at the time, and I assume is probably still a residential building. At the time, I think WLRS was the only business enterprise in the whole place.

The guy, gal, parties, whomever they were, who lived in the apartment directly above us, in 1008, were, apparently NOT music lovers....or perhaps not easy listening fans.

Any evening the studio speakers were still at a normal level when 1008 went to bed, there would begin the thumping and pounding from above....I suppose he was using a broom stick to bang on the floor.

It was not as if the speakers were high power / high fidelity or anything of the kind....indeed, they were simple 8" speakers mounted in a typical open-back & slant front case....like one might see in a school room. They were mounted close to ceiling level, and I guess the acoustic isolation between floors was non-existent.

Anyone working nights had to use strictly headphones and keep the speakers barely audible. 1008 had complained to the boss who let it be known that this guy was upset with us.

I thought....What the "H"....doesn't this guy realize that this is a radio station !?!

Then again, I guess he figured he was paying his rent and deserved a quiet sleep.

It was the only studio environment I had ever worked in where the neighbors would bang on the floor to shut us up. I wonder if it stayed that way after the station became The WALRUS ?

Regards
Dan

[dbsteff]

WLRS Studio line Phone Calls

One gets all manner of strange phone calls on the studio line, especially when it doubles as a request line. One thing you might notice if you look at the pictures on the WLRS page is that there is a single line phone in some, and a 5-line phone in others. This wasn’t by accident.

There was this one pain-in-the-butt guy in the audience who discovered that the studio line actually rang, like any other phone, and would call it while the mics were open to hear it ringing over the air. This happened to me often. We developed a ritual of taking the phone off hook before we opened the mics, but that proved inadequate, as, if off hook long enough, the phone would begin generating the old “siren” tone to alert the user that the phone was off hook. So one would have to take the thing off hook and call the phone’s own number, so as to busy the line out. This was no real solution. The simple answer would have been to have Ma Bell to install, what is called a “beehive lamp” on that phone and disconnect its ringer. The same line was used in the PD’s office next to the control room, however, and it needed to ring. It could still be heard in the control room.

So… Ma Bell came an installed an old 1A-2 style key system such that only the lights would respond to ringing, and or indicate the state of, not only the studio line, but the other lines that were, then, “multiple-appearenced” on that system from the executive offices in the penthouse. A new studio line was installed, such that the old line became a request line. Thus the DJ could choose to answer the request line if he desired, or ignore it, otherwise.

Before the new phone system was implemented, one had to answer that line, as it could be Clarence, our PD, or someone with a good reason for calling. I thought you might get some amusement from a couple of calls that came in on that line, while I was on shift.

On the hole, an unpleasant breakfast: (Call 1)

One morning about 6:45 AM, the phone rang. It was a listener in a virtual rage.

“Don’t you know this is breakfast time, you moron. I’m trying to have my breakfast, and you are forcing me to think about my a---hole. What the “H” is the matter with you.”

Those introductory remarks were followed by some even more caustic remarks which included unkind intimations regarding my mother, etc.

I replied that I was just following my program log, as required of me by our Program Director, and I didn’t mean to offend him.

He demanded to know the home phone number of our Program Director, so he might call him immediately. I explained that I wasn’t at liberty to divulge that information.
He went ballistic, demanding to know, at least his name. I knew he would immediately try to look up our PD in the phone book, so I declined to give him that information either.

He was furious.

I told him to call back on our main number after 9AM and just ask for the Program Director.

He slammed the phone down in my ear. I don’t know if he ever called back, or if he had cooled down enough to let it ride. Our PD never mentioned it, though I had left a warning note about the incident on his desk.

What caused all this rage and invective?

I had run a commercial for Preparation H.


Call 2: “In the family”

One evening I took a call on the studio line from a listener who chided me in a most “snippy” voice because I played so little Sinatra during my shows.

Although I have come to appreciate him more as I have gotten older. At the time, I thought Frank Sinatra was the biggest scam ever perpetrated, and didn’t understand why he had any following at all. I always believed that his success lay in the fact that his stuff was incredibly well arranged and orchestrated…heck I could have sang over that stuff, and believe me, you don’t want to hear me sing. The orchestration was the absolute best.. Sinatra himself, however, I didn’t care for. I preferred and played far more of vocalists whom, in my opinion, had some real vocal talent: Andy Williams, Perry Como, Johnny Mathis, Nat King Cole, even some Ed Ames, and many others, including, of course numerous female singers. The caller was right, I rarely played Sinatra.

So, when this guy accosted me verbally as to

“Why the “H” don’t you play more Sinatra”

I responded in kind, in a rather snippy tone:

“Cause it’s my show, and I don’t like Sinatra.”

“Why the “H” not?” he replied.

“Cause he has a vocal range 5 notes wide and sings three of those flat.” I offered

The came the strange reply:

“What if I were to tell you he is in the family” The caller said.


I replied:

“Sir, I’m not trying to insult you, your family, or even Mr. Sinatra. If there’s a particular song of his that you’d like to hear, I’ll gladly play it for you, if I have it.”
He asked for, if memory serves, Strangers in the night……a song I detested. Still, I played it for him.

Later, it occurred to me what this guy had said…..”in the family?!?” ….To this day, I don’t know what this guy was trying to tell me, nor if I had given him an appropriate answer. Guess I did, there were never any unsavory characters waiting for me to exit the 800 when I got off shift.


Hope I didn’t offend too many of you Sinatra fans!

Regards,
Dan

[dbsteff]

WLRS, The 800 and Sam Grandison

I had mentioned in one of my threads that we had a doorman at The 800, whose name was “Sam”.

To my great delight, in looking over the pics posted on the WLRS page here on LKYRadio there was a picture of Sam, minding the door for Terry Meiners and Ron Clay. I couldn’t imagine that Sam was still on the job in 1982. He was ever present in 1967—69 while I was at WLRS, as well. It didn’t matter the weather, the temperature, Sam was ALWAYS there. Sam’s was a thankless job, but he performed his duties with grace and was always the consummate professional.

Sam was a thoroughly decent fellow; I assume he still is and that he’s still with us. He was always outgoing and always ready to cheer you up with one of his generous smiles. He did his job with relish, and, as an 18 year old kid, when I first worked for WLRS, made me feel respected and appreciated. Sam and I developed a good rapport, and frequently shared jokes and laughs. Sam could be quite playful, even mischievous, at times, once he got to know you and became comfortable with you.

It makes me remember, though, an unpleasant event.

I mentioned in one thread that there was an intercom system between the lobby at The 800 and the various suites in the building. This was true of our studio, as well.

One time, while I had the mics open, Sam began buzzing that intercom, I don’t remember why, perhaps for me to allow someone to enter the building. It was a normal occurrence for Sam to do so.

On this occasion, however, Sam was in a playful mood. He didn’t just buzz the thing, he was tapping out a tune….perhaps jingle bells or something, I really don’t remember. At first, after a single bar of the tune, I was smiling and trying not to be distracted by his antics…..but….when he kept it up and kept it up….I was no longer amused and became, instead, miffed.

When I finally was able to answer the intercom, I, quite inappropriately, raised my voice at Sam, and explained to him what he had just unknowingly done.

Later, I realized I had no business speaking to Sam in such fashion and felt very guilty for having done so. Sam had no idea that the stupid buzzer was loud enough to be heard on the air…..he was just being playful ole Sam.

When I exited the 800, after my shift ended, I apologized to Sam. The apology was sincere, I really felt badly for having been harsh with him. Sam knew me well, and knew it was uncharacteristic of me to raise my voice for any reason, so he took it hard.

Sam accepted my apology graciously. Still, he was never as warm and cheerful with me after that. He was all business.

It was a lesson learned….be careful how you speak to someone, especially in anger.

I don’t know if Sam would remember me or the event, after all these years, but I remember him, and that I hurt this wonderful guy’s feelings, needlessly and stupidly.

It was I, the 18 year old kid, who owed him, a great guy, and one many years my senior, all the respect. Yet it was he, who showed me respect. I’ve always felt very badly for this episode. Especially since Sam was no longer my buddy afterwards.



Regards

Dan

[lfplfilmwindera]

I'm usually unable to respond to your technical posts Dan, but when you speak of Sam, I have a little account of an incident with Sam.

I used to work across the street at the Library. Sam would always politely open the door for us Library employees who were going to the 800 commissary(I don't have my spell checker). I was a big fan of 'LRS the Walrus, so one day I called the station and asked if I could get a tour of the studios. Sam let me in, thinking I was going to the commissary. Once I got in though, I headed up to the WLRS studios. A DJ gave me a very good tour, so afterwards I just headed on down the elevator to go home.

I was met at the door by a very angry Sam. He said, "You didn't tell me you were going to WSLR!!!!" Don't you ever go up there again without telling me!!! That WSLR is not a typo. He was so mad he couldn't say the station call letters correctly. This happened sometime in the mid 70s.

If he or any other member of his family is reading this, I apologize.

[dbsteff]

I can only speculate as to why Sam became so angry with you, since I wasn't there. I don't mean tp make excuses for Sam, but I think I can offer an explanation that might make sense.

Sam's job was NOT simply do provide the courtesy of tending the door for those entering or exiting the 800. Sam was, in effect, a one man security team, controlling access to the building, especially above the first floor.

I think the reason he chided you and told you to never go up to the station without telling him, is that any unauthorized access to the building that resulted from his not first okay-ing it would come down on his head BIG-TIME!

The usual protocol for gaining access to the building, which was, except for WLRS, a residential building, was that the visitor would tell Sam which apartment one was headed for, Sam then would use the intercom to buzz that apartment and inform the resident that you had arrived and seek their permission to grant you entrance. Having determined that the person you wished to visit was, indeed home, and had granted permission for you to enter, Sam would have opened the door for you and ushered you in.

Furthermore, Whomsoever told you to come for that visit should have notified Sam in advance that such permission had been given, so Sam would not be caught off guard when you arrived.

Unwittingly, you breached security by entering the lobby under a different pretext and then going instead of to the cafeteria, to the elevator. That's why, I'm sure Sam was upset with you. He was just doing his job.

When I was working at WLRS, I would from time to time invite schoolmates or others to visit the studio. I always informed Sam to be expecting them. There was never a problem. In fact, your experience jogs my memory about one visit I had authorized:

I had received a call one time from a fellow who said he was interested in becoming an announcer. I thought...YIKES! this guys has a voice that is sure suited for it. He sounded like the guy we now all know as James Earl Jones. He had this deep bassy voice.
We chatted for a while, and I agreed to have him come for a visit.

AT the appointed time, Sam buzzed up on the Intercom and said...and I paraphrase, since I can't remember the verbatim...

Mr. so-and-so is here, as you expected. Do you want me to let me in?

I thought it to be an odd question, but responded in the affirmative.

Sam replied: Are you sure?

I said Sure, Sam, I spoke with him earlier.

Soon the door chime rang and I went to open the door. I was totally taken aback at what I saw. This bassy voice belonged not to someone, as I would have expected, but to a kid who couldn't have been more than 12 or 13 years old.

He was a diminuative black boy with a huge smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

That he was black only bears mention in that, part of what I had noticed in his telephone conversation was a heavy, stereotypical brogue and a failure to enunciate well. I had had any vestiage of brogue and slurring beaten out of me by PDs and others from the time I had first opened a mic.

I gave him the tour and chatted with him, at length. I was impressed. I encouraged him to proceed. For starters, he could read articles in the paper into a tape recorder and listen to his playback, and work on minimizing his accent and improve his enunciation.

In those days, a neutral accent, or what they called a "california" accent was much desired. These days ethnic accents and flavor are acceptable, but no so much in those days. So I thought his chances would be markedly improved if he would shed himself of those attributes.

Anyway, that's why Sam wanted reassurance from me that permitting a child into the building would be OK.

So, try to understand why Sam reacted in the manner he did. He was doing his job, and you, however unintentionally, had breached security.

Sam rarely got exercised about anything, but I know he would have over someone gaining access to the building, above the first floor, without his involvement.

Regards

Dan

[Travis]

Hey Paul (lfplfilmwinders) you didn't tell me you were a trouble maker at the 800. Now I know why Sam always came looking for me whenever I took longer than usual inside the 800 Commissary (this message board includes a spell checker).

Of course, back in those days when I had long hair over my shoulders, muttonchops and a mustache, I probably made Sam nervous just being inside the building.

Dan, the stories are great; even the technical ones. If anything more comes to mind, please continue to type them here.

[dbsteff]

OK, Travis, here's one for you:

WLRS Diaper Parties ’68

Sounds like something kinky, huh? Well the “Summer of Love” was just around the corner, after all…..Woodstock, the whole crazy thing. WLRS wouldn’t want to be left out of such wild goings-on.

Actually there was nothing remotely kinky about our occasional diaper parties. Quite the contrary, they were quite mundane and tedious.

So, just what were these Diaper Parties? Well, it might be best to make sense of them, if I explain why we would have them.

One of the most annoying things about spinning vinyl, be it LPs or 45’s, is that they collect skin oil and other debris. Sure, we DJs were always cautioned to handle records by the edges, so as to avoid leaving fingerprints on the grooves of them. Some DJs are more religious in conforming to the practice than others.

After a period of time, the more popular records would develop “clicks” and “pops” and “skips” as the result of dried-up fingerprints and the oil they deposit on the surface of the record.
We had the cleaning fluid and felt roller to use on the records, and that got rid of the dust and other debris that records tended to collect, but the really stubborn fingerprints were not as easy to remove. In fact, if one wasn’t careful about just how these were removed, one could make matters worse, by attempting to remove them with a fingernail some other instrument, which could then, permanently scratch the vinyl.

Anytime an LP (which is mostly what we played, at that time) would develop a problem, we would mark its dust cover with a paper clip so it would be included in the next diaper party. I suspect that Top 40 stations had no need for such parties, as the Top 40 turnover didn’t allow a record to stay around for very long. But for an easy listening station, as was WLRS at the time, our LPs were kept on hand and played for long periods of time.

So, a plan was devised to deal with the issue. I frankly don’t remember whose idea it was, probably our PD, but I don’t really recall. In any case, we’d be informed of the next scheduled Diaper Party and whose turn it was to attend. WLRS would provide refreshments and food for the attendees.

All the LPs that had been marked, as I described earlier, would be removed from the racks and taken to the kitchen. In the kitchen, one side of the sink would be filled with lukewarm soapy water, the other side with cold clear water. The temp of the lukewarm water was critical, if too hot the LP would deform, if too cold, the fingerprint oil would soften up for removal.

Yup….it was just like washing dishes, but with those caveats.

One couldn’t actually place the records into the sink such as to immerse them. NO NO, one mustn’t do that!

Why?

Well, because if left in the water for more than a few seconds, the labels would come off and be destroyed such that they could not be re-applied.

The answer was to use a cloth diaper (diapers in those days were soft cotton cloth) that had been soaked in the lukewarm to carefully wipe the LP down, and another soaked in the clear water to rinse it off. A third, dry diaper, was used to dry the record off. So, it was a three man operation.

The diapers were very soft and could be used without fear of scratching the vinyl. Almost no other type of cloth was suitable, in that regard.

I don’t recall any other station I ever worked at having these diaper parties, perhaps it was a unique ritual of WLRS. In any case, I took my turn several times at the diaper parties. Depending on which three of the staff the chore fell to, they could actually be fun…..NOT!

Toward the end of my tenure, they stopped having these diaper parties. A new cleaning fluid became available, and we switched to using it, as needed. The old fluid had its own problems, as it would leave a residue on the record that was nearly as much problem as the skin oil and dust that would stick to it.

It was important to WLRS management not to hear a bunch of clicks and pops manifested in our music. If Clarence or our PD heard much of that, you could bet there would be a diaper party SOON.

Regards

Dan

[Travis]

Dan, as I recall, fingerprints were more of a problem with LPs than 45s. It was possible to handle 45s with one hand and one could generally do so without touching the grooves. LPs required two hands and it could be rather awkward getting them into their sleeves without touching the grooves. At WAKY, the 45s became damaged over time due to the act of "cuing" the intro ("cue-burned" as they called it). Other than that, the 45s held up well, considering they were generally stacked without their sleeves on top of the console. The original WAKY was located right next to Vine Records on Fourth Street, so when a record became too damaged to play, someone would just run next door and get another copy. No diaper parties required.

In reading your posts pertaining to LRS and the 800 Building, I'm reminded of how clearly the 800 Building could be seen from the lookout atop Iroquois Park. The 800 appeared to be the tallest building on the southern edge of downtown Louisville and its unique light blue, or turquoise color, made it stand out all that much more when viewed from the north lookout (also known as the horseshoe lookout). I recall that the LRS studios had a southern view from about the 9th floor of the 800 and that the hills of Iroquois Park could be seen from there. During the April 3rd Tornado of 1973, the staff at LRS actually watched the tornado as it crossed their view traveling from Harrison County, Indiana across the Fairgrounds and into Louisville's east end.

You made mention of the LRS studios and balcony being on the south side of the building and that this was significant for another story you would relate at a later time.

Have I somehow missed that story?

If not, bring it on.

[dbsteff]

OK, here's that story. I just hadn't penned it yet, since it's more about me than about WLRS.

You are correct, the studio....more specifically the control room was the "bedroom" of that floor plan. It and the associated suite faced south.

There was, indeed, a balcony there, also, obviously, facing the south.

I always parked my car, a 1962 Ford Galaxy, baby blue, in the parking lot on the east side of 4th St. near a church....I suppose it may have been the church's parking lot. My car could be seen in its parking place from the balcony.

On one occasion, I went out onto the balcony to smoke a cigarette....in those days, I was a heavy smoker, as were most of the DJs I knew at the time.

When I arrived on the balcony, I looked down to see my car with its hood up and some fat guy removing my battery. I began screaming at him from the balcony. He apparently couldn't hear me, and continued the rip-off.

I ran back into the control room and called the operator to connect me with the police. Remember, 1n 1968 there was no 911 service.

Anyway, I reported the matter to the dispatcher, who said he would send help right away. I returned to the balcony and continued screaming, between cueing records and keeping the program going. I couldn't leave the control room to go downstairs and confront the guy personally. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise....I don't know what might have happened to me if I had confronted him.

I continued screaming at him, suggesting unkind things about his mother, and yelling other such epithets. Finally, he lifted the battery out of its saddle and turned toward my vantage point.

Apparently, he had heard me all along. He looked up at me and delivered the single fingered salute. He ran down the street with my battery, got into his truck, and drove right by the squad car as it was arriving.

I tried to signal the cops that the guy in the truck was the guy they were looking for, but to no avail. They got out of the squad car, inspected my car to see its battery was, indeed, missing and looked up to see me standing on the balcony, waving at them.

It was late enough in the evening that Sam had already left, so when they came to the lobby, I buzzed them in. They came upstairs, and I filled out the report. I was furious, and wanted them to send someone to lift fingerprints. I wanted this guy BAD!

They said that the value of the battery wasn't sufficient to constitute a felony, and they would not be looking for fingerprints. After the report was complete, they left.

They expressed an interest in the studio, saying they had never been inside a radio studio before. I gave them the nickel tour, and they watched as I made the announcements preceding cut to network news. Then they left.

I was now stranded at the studio, my car disabled.

I had to call my buddy Don Fugate, and plead for him to come to rescue me after sign off (1AM) as I didn't want to spend the night on the sofa in the PDs office.

As always, Don came to my rescue. I was lucky to have a friend like Don, who, as I have said in other threads, was from my hometown, Huntington, WV., and whom I met at UEI. I had no family in Louisville, nor did he. We became close buddies. I got him his job at WXVW. Anyway, we were each others support system, and were always there for each other. Don gets back to Louisville nearly each year, as his wife still has relatives there. He always drives by the 800 for old times sake.

Anyway, Don showed up on time to find me standing next to my wounded car. In those days, cars were equipped with generators, not alternators. This was lucky. Generators use permanent magnets, whereas Alternators use stator electromagnets. Alternators require a minimum battery voltage to sustain the magnetic field need to generate the voltage used to run everything else. Generators don't care if there's a battery present or not. My understanding is that without at least some battery voltage, an alternator is virtually useless. I don't know if that's entirely true, as I have never attempted to run a car equipped with an alternator in the absence of a battery.

In any case, Don jumped me with his car, and once I got my car running. I had to hold the engine speed enough above idle to keep the voltage regulator from dropping back onto the non-existent battery, in which case the car would have died and required re-jump.

While I was keeping the engine running fast enough to avoid that problem, Don was taping up the positive battery terminal, so it would not short out against the chassis somewhere and cause a really big problem.

Don followed me home in his car. You recall, we shared a run-down trailer home that we rented from one of our instructors at UEI. Don drove a 1960 Chevy which was painted something similar to olive drab.....I always teased him about having stolen it from the US ARMY...........but I was sure glad to see that Chevy on that night.

The next day, Don took me shopping for a new battery that I couldn't really afford.

So, Travis, that was the balcony related story I had in mind. There is one other balcony related story, involving a friend and classmate of mine. I'll tell it at some other time.

Regards

Dan

[dbsteff]

WLRS ‘68/69 After Sign Off

Actually I can’t recall if this incident happened in 1968 or ’69, but I guess that is unimportant.

At that time WLRS signed off at 1AM and signed back on at 6AM. I should qualify that statement, to explain just what “sign off” really meant.

As many of you will know well, the worst thing one can do to vacuum tubes is to turn them on and off. The filaments, in particular, will fail far more quickly as a result, plus various types of parametric “drift” can occur from the elements (cathode, grids, plate) heating and cooling repeatedly. In those days, much lab equipment was left on 24hrs a day for that reason. Sometimes, if you turned a piece of such equipment off, it just might not come back on. Then one would be replacing tubes, and in some cases, realigning the equipment.

This was true, too, of Broadcast Transmitters. The final amplifier was so rugged that it didn’t tend to suffer from this syndrome, but the exciter was another story. It was filled with tubes, and, like other such equipment, didn’t appreciate being turned on and off.

So the common practice in the industry, at that time, was that “sign off” or being “off the air” generally meant switching off the plate voltage to the final amplifier, and leaving the exciter powered up. For all intents and purposes, the transmit signal was eliminated and receivers tuned to the station would default to static. There is a qualifier, however.

As many of you are well aware, an exciter is actually a low power transmitter in its own rite. The final is just that…the final power amplifier. It receives the low power signal from the exciter and amplifies it to the desired, rated broadcast level the station is licensed for. When switch off, the final amplifier acts, not as an amplifier, but as an attenuator.

What all of this technical mumbo-jumbo means is that when one is “off the air” the exciter, if still on, may deliver several watts of transmit power through the attenuation of the powered-down final amplifier, to the antenna, and ultimately onto the air. So, your 3,000 Watts of transmit power may now be only 3 Watts. While that doesn’t sound like much, 3Watts of transmit power from a 300 ft high antenna can carry for miles. Our antenna at WLRS was roughly 300ft.

What I’m leading up to is an incident that happened one evening about 15 minutes before I was to sign off for the night.

One of the other DJs….we’ll call him “Jim” (appropriate, since that was his name) and his girlfriend and some buddy of his all showed up, unexpectedly, at about 12:45. Jim had a couple of LPs under his arm and a pizza. Looked like they intended to have a little party.

I was not keen about this idea. Clarence would often drop in to the studio shortly after sign on and inspect the condition of the studio. He was very meticulous about staff keeping the studio tidy and clean. In fact, if you observe the studio picture on the WLRS page, the picture, that is, with Tim Goodwin at the board, you’ll notice a whisk broom hanging from one of the 19” racks. I used this every evening to groom and brush the felt of the turntables clean before I left for the night. I always made sure that the studio was in white glove shape for Clarence the next morning, in case he might drop in.

I admonished “Jim” that it would be his butt, if Clarence came in to find pizza or any other mess in the control room. Beyond that, “Jim” had as much right to be there as I, so I couldn’t exactly ask him to leave.

It didn’t occur to me that it would be wise to turn off the audio processor/limiter before I left, so there would be no audio feed to the exciter.

As it turned out, Jim’s albums were “Comedy”, and I don’t mean Bill Cosby type comedy. It was some pretty rank stuff. Jim apparently wanted to tape this stuff for his own use at home, as the albums belongs to the friend he had brought with him. That is apparently just what he did.

The whole time he was doing this, he was feeding the exciter and was actually “on the air” at the reduced power, of course.

We all knew, from the table radio, in the PD’s office that the signal was strong enough that the radio never went to static and the 19Khz Stereo Pilot indicator would remain illuminated, even while we were “signed off” Every one else in the 800 could have received Jim’s naughty little broadcast, as well as receivers within a mile or two….be they home or auto.

I never gave any of it any thought till the next day, that is. That’s when I received a call from Mrs. Henson, if I remember correctly…or perhaps the PD’s secretary…NO, I remember it being Mrs. Henson…ANYWAY……I was asked:

“You did sign off at the regular time, last night, didn’t you?”

I replied:

“Of course, why?”


She explained that they had received a number of complaints from people who had received all this inappropriate material, and had assured them that we were off the air by that time, so it must have been some station operating on our same frequency.

If I could have gotten my hands on Jim at that moment….well, you know.

I did NOT rat him out, but I had an unpleasant chat with him the next day. We were not on good terms after that. The incident, and one regarding my 1968 Christmas Greeting, which is one of the audio snippets that John Quincy posted on the WLRS page, pretty much put Jim and I at odds for the rest of our time together. The Christmas greeting story is its own, and I’ll relate it later.

No one ever mentioned it to me, but Clarence and our PD knew well, that the illicit transmission could well have come from WLRS, fortunately, they believed it when I assured Mrs. Henson that we were “off the air” promptly at 1AM.

Regards

Dan

[Travis]

Wow. One would think that those who complained to Mrs Henson would have called your co-worker during the actual time that he was playing those naughty albums. Was this during the time when the LRS phones had an audible ring?

And I believe the LRS antenna mast is probably just below, if not at, 300 feet in overall height. When I climbed the tripod tower of WFPL-WFPK I recall being able to see across the roof of the 800 Building. The library tower was 300 feet.

I'm certainly getting somewhat of a technical education from these posts. Way to go, Dan.

[dbsteff]

Thanks, Travis. I like to talk to some of the technical stuff, I'm always afaraid, however, that I'll bore the stuffing out of the non technical reader.

I don't know if anyone called in during "Jim's" naughty program, and no, I believe it was during the time that the phone only displayed lights as line status indicators. I really don't remember, though.

I have in mind a little write-up on the significance of Stereo in those days.

I'll post it under separte cover.

Thanks for reading my stuff. I appreciate it.

Regards

Dan

[dbsteff]

WLRS---remnants of the 1968 studio

I happened upon a picture of Terry Meiner on air in the WLRS Studio, standing beneath a cartoon image of The Walrus. The picture was posted on the WHAS web site. As I observed it, I realized it was taken in the same space as the studio pictured in my own pictures, posted on LKYRadio by John Quincy. It wasn’t obvious at first, but then I noticed something.

Behind Terry’s behind, was the same transmitter control panel as can be seen in my pictures. It’s a black panel with the meters and pushbutton controls that operate the transmitter. One can see it in some of my pictures….and there it is in the picture of Terry.

It’s the only remaining piece of equipment, so near as I can tell, from the 1968 vintage pics. The Collins audio processor/limiter, the McMartin MPX Generator/Monitor, all the rest is gone, replaced with a variety of other equipment mounted in the same racks.

I can’t imagine that Clarence was still acting as the station engineer for the Walrus by that time, as he would never have thrown together a bunch of equipment as I see arranged in such a hap-hazard fashion in the Walrus picture.

Having recognized the control panel in the Terry pic, I know precisely where the pic was taken. He’s standing precisely where the old RCA console was, or at least that’s how it appears to me.

WOW!

Regards

Dan

[dbsteff]

WLRS ’68…Did I really say that !!!!!!

Since I took the liberty of telling the story of my friend Don’s on air slip of the tongue, while at WXVW, I suppose it only fair to relate one I committed while at WLRS.

When you are a student, as I was at that time, it is part of the anti-establishment mind set, one must be part of, to develop pet names…..usually not of the complimentary kind to tag one’s school with, and/or the surrounding area in which it resides.

Such it was with us, the students at UEI. It’s mandatory, seemingly, to refer to instructors, the school the city, the state, or anything else remotely associated with the established order in less than flattering terms.

Thus, one evening, I made a major BLOOPER on the air during a station ID. It slipped off the end of my tongue so effortlessly and even normally that I hadn’t even realized I had said it…until that is, the phone began to ring.

“I guess you’re not too fond of our fair city, huh?” The first caller said.

I had no idea what he was referring to; It hadn’t yet hit me as to what I had said.

“Actually, Sir, I’ve come to love Louisville a lot. I’m thinking of settling here permanently after I graduate tech school, why would you think otherwise?”
I responded

I hung up the phone he he made no response other than to hang up in my ear.

The phone rang again immediately.

I didn’t answer it right away, as I was wracking my brain as to what the “H” I had said.

Then it hit me!

“Broadcasting from atop the 800, this is W-L-R-S; Loui-hole Kentucky”

OH SH----T!!! I thought to myself, before I answered the next call

The line up of calls that followed was, each, more caustic than the first, and I was apologizing away to numerous callers for quite some time. I was afraid that, at some point, one of the calls would be from Clarence or our PD, but that did not happen.

The truth of it was that it was just a school tag for the city, and did NOT reflect the affection I had actually come to feel for Louisville. I was truly embarrassed…BIG TIME.

Don, of course, never let me hear the end of it.

[dbsteff]

Where’d you go, Ron?

During the course of my stolen battery story, I mentioned that there was one other incident regarding the balcony at WLRS that I would recount. This is it.

One of my buddies at the time, and a fellow classmate at UEI, was a guy named Ron. I haven’t seen or talked to him since 1969, when I left for Dallas, and he returned to Oklahoma City, where he was from, so I’ll only refer to him as Ron.

Ron was one of those guys whom all the other guys hate…….actually not hate…..but are extremely jealous of. Ron was, as the girls today would say, drop-dead gorgeous. He stole the attention of all the girls at any function he attended from the other guys who were there. He was also very athletic and strong.

While I was working at WLRS, Ron landed a job with a UHF station, as I recall, across the river from Louisville. I can’t recall its Call Sign any longer, but it was one of the first UHF stations in the area. Ron and I would visit each other at our respective studio locations from time to time. I was impressed with all the new (at the time) equipment at this TV station. They had a fleet of new Norelco Color Cameras…..really cool. Their claim to fame was that they employed cutting edge (at the time) video pick-ups called Plumicons. The color fidelity and resolution was state of the art. They were very sensitive and required less studio light intensity to produce the desired picture. I had never heard of Norelco, except as it went to electric shavers, so I was dumfounded to see that same logo of these cameras.

Anyway, one evening, after Ron had finished his shift at the station, he drove over to join me at WLRS, to keep me company till I signed off. We chatted for a while and Ron indicated he was tired and requested to lie down on the sofa in the PD’s office. I said SURE….and he did so. Thinking him napping, I didn’t give his presence much more thought as I went about my business in the control room.

At one point, I went to the kitchen to refresh my coffee and noticed that Ron was nowhere to be found. The door to the balcony was ajar so I assumed he must be on the balcony having a cigarette. I got my coffee and went to the balcony to ask if he wanted coffee, as well.

He was NOT there.

Well! I thought, he could have at least said bye before he left. I didn’t even notice him go, which would be unusual, as he would have had to pass directly in front of the open control room door to do so. I figured he must have gone earlier, while I was in the rest room, and didn’t give it any further thought.

I closed and locked the door to the balcony and returned to the control room and went about my business.

A while later, I heard knocking at the balcony door. WHAT THE “H” ! I thought. I went to the balcony door, and, sure enough, there was Ron. I thought I was losing it for sure. How could I have overlooked him, when I checked the balcony for him earlier?

I opened the door to let him in. He had a huge smile on his face, but said nothing, even though he saw my quizzical expression. I asked the obvious question:

“Where the “H” were you?”

He smiled, once more and pointed “UP” with his index finger.

I decided to do a little climbing…you know I love to climb. He said.

“You didn’t really…..Did You?”

He just smiled again.

Every conceivable horror went through my mind, instantly. If he had fallen and landed on the roof of the parking garage 9 stories below, I’d have signed off and left for the evening, thinking he had already left. His body would have lain there until someone discovered it. When it all got sorted out, I’d have been in more trouble than one could imagine.

He could see in my face that I was both horrified and taken aback by what he had done.

He apologized but was unrepentant for having climbed between balconies for several floors up and back down, except that he had scared the SH---T out of me.

After sign off, we left and went our separate ways.

The next day, the incident was the talk of the 800 Building. Numerous people had observed this crazy person scaling the building and had reported it. When I was told about it I only said:

“You must be kidding”

When asked if, by chance, I had seen anything of the sort, I replied, honestly:

“NO I never saw any such thing.” It was technically true. I hadn’t seen it.

If I had been asked if I knew anything about it, then I’d have been in a fix. I would have probably lied and denied any knowledge…..of course, at the time; I had no knowledge of what Ron was up to, but, after the fact, I did.

So there’s another one for the annals of WLRS and the 800 Building.

Ron never completed his course of study at UEI and, ultimately, returned to Oklahoma City to become a police officer. He hailed from an Indian Reservation somewhere in Oklahoma, and was a full-blooded Cherokee. He was always something of a daredevil, he always credited the latter attribute with the former…Who knows… he probably still is that same daredevil I knew way back then…..I wonder if he really understood just how close he came to having his exceptional good looks splattered all over the roof of the 800 Building parking garage.

Regards
Dan