Radio Articles

There was a time when boys thought it was “definitely sissy” to take expression lessons and learn to cultivate well-modulated tones of voice, but not so in this era! The radio has changed that factor until it provides a heretofore unheard of medium for clear spoken voices to make good, and that right in their own home towns.

Of the fifteen staff announcers at four radio stations, ten of them are men who went to school right here and have publics who knew them “when.” Announcers have gone out from St. Louis to become the leading announcers in stations all over the country.

It is a field to which men from other professions have come because they have that unusual quality in their voices which makes them seem real persons as they come over the air. They can make their voices sound alive and vibrant and sympathetic to the millions of local and national listeners.

At station KMOX, there are six on [regular] schedule and many of them join in other programs. Peter Grant, who is the senior announcer, is in reality Melvin Maginn, a graduate lawyer. He is the son of a music instructor at Washington University. Bob Holt is from St. Louis as is Garnett Marks and Paul Sullivan, the newest one, who was selected from a recent school of announcership training.

France Laux, the sports announcer at KMOX, is from Bristow, Oklahoma, and was voted the second most popular announcer in the country last year. Holland Engle found his way here from Fairmount, W. Virginia and has broadcast from more than 100 stations all over the United States.

At KWK, Bob Thomas is the chief announcer, having lived his whole life in St. Louis and spent all of his radio life at the station. John Harrington is from Kirkwood and was formerly a draftsman. Sterling Harkins, although he came here from Mobile radio work, is a St. Louis boy. Del King of “On the Bookshelf” fame is from Kansas City.

A veteran radio worker is Robert L. Coe at KSD who has been with radio stations in St. Louis even since he was a small boy. He has and is serving in almost all capacities at the station. Ray Gutting, the market announcer, came from a small town in Illinois but has been here so long that he is practically a native St. Louisan.

WIL has gone in more foreign fields for its personnel with Franklyn MacCormack, program director, from Los Angeles. Neil Norman, commercial announcer, was born in Dayton, Ohio and came here from Chicago. Denver is the scene of Billy Lang’s initial radio work and where he spent his childhood.

They come from the stage, from professions and from formerly plain work-a-day industrial lives – these men whose voices come out of the air each day to make some particularly interesting moment. They chat unaffectedly and interestingly with men, women and children upon subjects which will be of interest to them. They have huge followings of friends whom they have never seen but who are their most precious possessions nonetheless. It is those friends and their letters that give them the spirit and inspiration to talk hours on end into an unresponsive microphone.

(Originally published in Radio and Entertainment 3/26/1932).

On Christmas Eve, 1925, KMOX first went on the air from Kirkwood, Missouri, licensed as “The Voice of St. Louis.” A venture spurred by the imagination or 15 prominent businessmen in the community, it was also strongly supported by the St. Louis Globe-Democrat. With studios in the Mayfair Hotel, its modified Western Electric 104-A transmitter supplied a husky 5-kilowatt signal to a flat-top antenna system.

Within a very few months, the station developed a personnel problem; its technicians were highly dissatisfied with their weekly wage of $30 for 48 hours. Thus, the first union organization of radiomen took root in St. Louis, at KMOX, when they joined Local Union No. 1, IBEW. Almost coincidentally, the first articles on “Radio” began in the IBEW’s Journal of Electrical Workers and Operators in the April, 1926, issue.

In September of 1930, a new transmitter went on the air, and from a new location. The 5-kilowatt transmitter was replaced by a 50 kw. rig operating from Baumgartner Road, near the Meramec River, 14 miles south of St. Louis proper.

In 1932, the studios were moved to the St. Louis Mart Building, where they remained for many years thereafter. It was generally said, at that time, that the new studios was a far cry from KMOX’s humble beginning, when the first tinkling notes of “Somewhere A Voice Is Calling” announced the first presence of the new station in town. That same year, CBS purchased KMOX. And by the end of the year, the list of CBS owned-and-operated stations had grown to eight: WABC, New York; WBBM, Chicago; WBT, Charlotte; WCCO, Minneapolis; WJSV, Washington; WKRC, Cincinnati; WPG, Atlantic City; and KMOX. With one affiliate in Canada, the relatively new network consisted of 93 stations.

The accumulation of plaques, certificates and similar testimonials of awards for programs, community and public services and the like almost literally cover a large wall in the present studio building on Hampton Avenue. And these are the awards of only the recent years. From its 5,000 watts in the early days, to its present 50 kw on 1120 kc., from its ponderous motor-generator sets of the ‘20s and ‘30s, the 104-A and the 5-C (later used by a station in Macon, Georgia, and until mid-1958), to its present air-cooled Westinghouse HG-1 and the Continental companion auxiliary at Stallings, Illinois – all are just about as far distant from each other as 1925 is from 1963.

KMOX-FM went on the air in February of 1961. Its Collins 830-Z-1A transmitter is licensed for 47 kw. ERP on 103.3 mc. This transmitter is remotely-controlled, as is the AM, from the studio and is located in the KMOX-TV transmitter building in Lemay, Missouri.

In December of 1960, KMOX began the operation of its transmitters by remote control. To date, it may well be the only station in the United States (or perhaps the world) which now employs a greater number of engineers than it had on the payroll prior to the advent of its automation. With heavy emphasis on sports, news and discussion programs, manpower requirements are correspondingly high; both the need and the fulfillment are tributes to the station activity and the far-sighted and astute management of “The Voice of St. Louis.”

When L.U. 1217 was chartered on December 18, 1940, the engineering staff became charter members of that Local Union. Among the signatures on the actual charter are at least two members still employed at KMOX: W.E. Mansfield (many times a local union officer) and Chalmer H. Stoup. Another member with a long and distinguished record of service with KMOX and his local union is Robert W. Stetson, who has been enjoying retirement for some little time. Brother Stetson was the Financial Secretary of Local Union 4 when he retired on September 1, 1960. All the names on the original charter issued to 1217 were duplicated on the new one when Local Union 4 was chartered on January 1, 1959.

Thus, this month we are happy to salute this “old time” station and the men who have kept and are keeping it on the air. But few stations have such a long and parallel history with the IBEW. Theirs is indeed a proud heritage and a bright future.

(Originally published in Technician-Engineer 4/63).

Giggles, a lazily strummed guitar, rollicking accordion tunes and a general scurrying of footsteps describes as nearly accurately as possible the behind-the-scenes preparation for the weekly KMOX County Fair.

The giggles have their foundation primarily in the ridiculousness of the costumes. The staff and artists enjoy seeing normally sober and dignified exponents of radio attired as clowns or impersonating monkeys. “Hank” Richards, the Barker, originator and director of the Fair changes from a correct-appearing Program Production director to a barker wearing a checked suit, a flaming orange tie and a brown derby that is really laugh-provoking.

Last Saturday night, I joined in the backstage preparations and then took my place amongst the audience. I found myself enjoying every minute of the fast-moving show, for it was a good one – I was soon as lost in complete enjoyment as the other 500 spectators. The stage represents the glitter and expansive caricatures of a side-show and when the Fair begins, “Hank” Richards takes his place in a much-decorated ticket booth and the fun has started.

Sunny Joe and his Scalawags rush in and whale into lilting music and the Girls of the Golden West, two really pretty girls from Texas, harmonize on good old range songs. When the program stops long enough for the next to be announced, Ruth Hulse Nelson, looking about ten years old in a little gingham frock, strikes up a calliope interlude. The other acts in the wings provide the cheering to join in the applause of the amused audience.

Ted Straeter at the piano and his Three Best Girls, Blanche Fink, Georgia Erwin and Louise LaRue, harmonize perfectly for a bit of more dignified music. Applause and music and then the County Fair goes on the air. There are two broadcasts each Saturday night which come directly from the stage as the show moves on.

In fast succession, The Missouri-Pacific negro quartet does a hot number or two and then Len Johnson and his Ozark Mountaineers are on and off the stage playing real hillbilly tunes. Sad Sam, looking ridiculous in a battered top hat and “tails” that far from fit, and his accordion and Sunny Joe, the bad boy of the air with is brand new All-American banjo that cost $600, tear off a bit of music and exchange wise-cracking dialogue.

In and out strolls Dr. Cuckoo wearing a somber black Stetson hat, a dilapidated frock coat, a string tie, bespectacled and with a very, very, very red nose. One snickers at the sight of him before he even attempts speech. In person he is Holland Engle, announcer and news commentator, but he looks exactly like one of the Four Horsemen in such a get-up.

He and “Hank” Richards launch into some side talk or amuse themselves by exchanging hats or trying to break up the acts. Sometimes, Dr. Cuckoo goes into a tap dance or sits at the piano and beats out a tune or two and sings. Seeing this normally well-groomed and dignified person being so ridiculous is a show in itself.

Lindhorst the magician comes out with a bag of tricks that amaze and delight the audience. Last Saturday night he chose two boys from the audience and as he took silver balls out of their hands and quarters out of the air or bowls of goldfish from his hat, their eyes grew in wonderment. His act reached the climax when he handed ten cards to one of the youngsters and the lad counted them.

This august magician commanded them to count them again and there were twelve and then fourteen. The only apparent thing that he did to increase the number that the boy held was to flip the remaining cards in his own hand and invite them to join the pack in the boy’s trembling hand. I’ve tried this one myself and it’s got me baffled – it just isn’t reasonable but it does happen!

More calliope music, more applause and then six-foot-two Wyoming Jack and Big Jim Jenkins, both from the A Slash V ranch from way out in Wyoming dash out on the stage looking very colorful in their western costumes. Cameo Cal, a new recruit to their act, expounds some workable philosophy and Wyoming Jack with his guitar yodels and sings alternately. Big Jim with a cracking whip does spectacular things like knocking the ashes off of Wyoming Jack’s cigar. It takes nerve for Jack to stand still with utter confidence that Jim’s whip will crack over his head and then descend in just the right spot.

The highlight of the gala evening came last week in an impromptu manner. “Hank” Richards had teased the acts so much that they decided to get “even” with him. Sunny Joe and Sad Sam announced that “Hank” would sing. Hank demurred but the impelling clapping from the audience necessitated his going through with it. His voice that was heard for the first time at the Fair proved to be a good tenor and his singing of “Piccaninney Lullaby” broke down the house, so to speak.

It’s a good show. I enjoyed every minute of it because most of it is inspired by ready wit. There’s good music and better fun, lights and action. That’s good entertainment in any language.

Nancy Frazer, Radio & Entertainment, 11/19/32

When the radio business caught fire in the early 1920s, there were several major types of owners, each with good reasons to build radio stations. Newspapers used their stations to promote their papers, broadcasting news and telling listeners they could read more in the next edition. Communications companies like AT&T and Westinghouse would realize immediate benefits as people bought radios: AT&T leased phone lines for programming and Westinghouse sold radios to consumers. In many cities department stores also owned stations to sell radios to listeners.

Here in St. Louis, Stix, Baer & Fuller built WCK in 1922, broadcasting its first program April 18 from 6:45 PM – 8 PM on 360 meters (approximately 830 Kc.) Mary Jones was in charge of programming, which was aired Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings. St. Louis Mayor Henry Kiel opened the show, which originated from the 11th floor studios of the downtown Stix building. There were musical numbers performed by former Metropolitan Grand Opera soprano Agnes Hanick, her sister Florence Hanick, and the Rush Musical Company.

While this may not sound terribly enlightening or entertaining, it was standard fare on radio through the decade of the 20s. Three years later the station announced it would broadcast exercise classes at 7:00 each morning. “Tune in on the radio and take on a manly waistline this week” read the lead in the Globe-Democrat on January 18, 1925. The “first-of-its-kind” broadcast in St. Louis only required a Turkish towel as exercise equipment, and although they “had never been taught to women heretofore…the exercises are equally healthful in their case.”

The station was now at 1100 Kc, although there is no documentation showing all its frequency assignments. We do know that WCK changed its call letters about this time to WSBF, reflecting the name of its owner. A publication of the Missouri Historical Society incorrectly stated WSBF signed on in 1922. It also quoted Arthur Baer as saying the station “…was a great new advertising opportunity, so we thought we should try it.”

Apparently Mr. Baer’s interest in supporting a radio station began to wane. On the evening of February 27, 1928, a Miss Helen Hatfield told listeners that WSBF would no longer broadcast. She told newspaper reporters she was not authorized to say anything about the reasons behind the company’s decision.

Several months later WSBF rose from the ashes under the ownership of Mississippi Valley Broadcasting. They signed on June 12, 1927 with studios on the mezzanine of the Claridge Hotel. Directors were Michael Bass, president of the St. Louis Public School Patrons’ Alliance, J.B. Toles, and Gene Jordan. The trio pledged to work with the public schools in St. Louis.

WSBF was listed at 1160 Kc early in 1928 but had been deleted by the Federal Radio Commission by the end of that year.

(Reprinted with permission of the St. Louis Journalism Review. Originally published 6/2001)

Helen G. Hatfield, announcer and program director of station WSBF, of Stix, Baer & Fuller department store in St. Louis, Mo., is pictured.

Miss Hatfield is one of the few women announcers who have really made good in radio. Perhaps her success can be accounted for by the fact that she started in radio back when the little five-watter that first used the WSBF call was considered some broadcaster. She has grown up with radio and in doing so has become part of radio itself.

Miss Hatfield tells us she has brown eyes and short brown curls. Her many friends say she is much more animated than she appears to be in this photograph. And she would have to be animated to be as versatile as she is. Besides putting all of WSBF’s programs on the air she fills in announcing such sports as baseball, football and even prize fights.

Before the lure of the microphone reached out for Miss Hatfield, she was a student at the University of Illinois, preparing to become a domestic science teacher. Now in one little talk at the microphone she teaches a class larger than would have been the combined classes she would have taught in a lifetime of work.

(Originally published in Radio Guide, 11/14/1925)

It all began innocently enough. A 10-year-old St. Louis boy was thumbing through a catalog of amateur radio equipment. The year was 1912, so the best any radio amateur could hope for was the ability to send or receive Morse Code.

The youngster built a receiver, and five years later he built a transmitter and applied for a government amateur radio license. His application was denied due to a government decree that all amateur transmitting equipment must be dismantled and remain so until the end of World War I.

Robert Coe eventually got his license at the end of the war. He was 17. Amateurs had begun experimenting with voice and sound transmission. In an interview with Joe Berman, Coe remembered a couple of his peers from the time – Lester Benson and William Wood – who would go on to build transmitters for several St. Louis radio stations and become owners of WIL.

Coe did some volunteer work as an operator at St. Louis University’s experimental station (9YK) and was even listed on the school’s faculty, but he eventually took a paying job selling radios at Domestic Electric Company.

Within a few months, Coe was hired by the Stix, Baer & Fuller department store in St. Louis, but he wasn’t selling anything.

Instead, they wanted him to build a radio station for them. The studio was constructed in the store’s music department, next to phonographs, records and pianos that were for sale. At the top of the building, the transmitter was placed among the water tanks.

Robert Coe went to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch station, KSD, the following year. Working for the Pulitzer station, he noted in a memoir, was a professional dream because the company always bought the best equipment available. He also served as the operating engineer for KMOX for a three-year period.

The kid who began by building an experimental transmitter in his home later became one of the top engineers in television, putting KSD-TV on the air in St. Louis before moving to New York for jobs with the Dumont and ABC Television networks. He taught communications at Ohio University in the late ‘60s. Robert Coe died in 1975.