Radio Articles

By Harry F. Wild

To the average American there are two things which make hot weather bearable – namely baseball and beer, a combination as truly American as any tradition handed down since ‘76. And for that reason the radio program of the Columbia Brewing Company must be considered a strategic bit of sales.

It is the baseball motif that makes the Columbia program an unusual one. The program, known as “The Man-in-the-Stands Broadcast” was heard for the first time on April 14, when the St. Louis Cardinals and the Chicago Cubs opened the 1936 National League Baseball season at Sportsman’s Park in St. Louis. The program, scheduled daily, is broadcast direct from Sportsman’s Park. It consists of impromptu interviews with baseball fans in the stands, prior to the game, and makes for a chatty, interesting type of broadcast. Radio Station KWK, National Broadcasting Company outlet in St. Louis, is handling the broadcast.
“Alpen Brau,” the Columbia Brewing Company’s brand of bottled beer, is featured on the commercial side of the broadcast.

The program goes on the air daily at 2:45 o’clock – fifteen minutes before the game begins. The fact that KWK is broadcasting all weekday games of the two St. Louis major league teams assures the “Man-in-the-Stands Broadcast” an unusually good ‘spot.” For already the rabid baseball fans – and all St. Louisans take their baseball seriously – are discovering that the “Man-in-the-Stands” is the kind of program that makes those last few minutes before game time slip by like magic.
There was a time, too, when anything built around the baseball motif was generally considered for “men only.” That isn’t the case today, for women have become devout followers of baseball, thanks to radio broadcasting, “ladies’ days,” and other promotional efforts.

For that reason the Columbia Brewing Company’s radio program is the type that arouses the interest of the feminine radio audience. For that reason the concern can get over its sales message to the housewife.
But, by and large, the success of radio advertising depends almost entirely upon the program backing up the advertising. That is why the advertising of the Columbia Brewing Company is getting results. By utilizing the baseball motif – a sport which appeals to everyone – the company has produced a type of radio program that has the same wide appeal.

(Originally published in Brewers’ Journal May 1936).

In a blaze of justifiable glory the corporate name of KWK was changed last week to Thomas Patrick, Inc., honoring Thomas Patrick Convey, founder and principal builder of the station through whose ceaseless efforts KWK has risen from humble beginnings to nationwide importance.

In a surprise program by his own associates the announcement went out over the air to KWK listeners, and Mr. Convey acknowledged the distinction in one of his characteristic, friendly speeches in which he pledged continued efforts on his part to bring to KWK listeners the best in radio features, keeping abreast with all that is new in radio, both artistically and technically, not only for the benefit of KWK and its well-wishers, but for St. Louis as well.

Radio and Entertainment joins with the great host of Thomas Patrick radio fans in extending felicitations to KWK and the man through whose efforts the station and St. Louis have become important links in the great NBC national network. More power to you, Mr. Convey!

(Originally published in Radio and Entertainment 11/21/1931).

Since the earliest days of the radio business there have been conflicts between management and talent. In St. Louis, one of those conflicts led to an appearance in police court.

The year was 1929 and the police court appearance took place October 2, just a couple weeks before the stock market crashed. The economy wasn’t on anyone’s mind, but one employee of radio station KWK was not happy with the amount of money he was being paid.

Olin Gibson was making $50 per week to serve as an announcer and pianist at the station. And like virtually everyone who’s ever been a radio announcer, Gibson took a side job to supplement his income. As the police later reported, Gibson was playing piano for patrons of Coffee Dan’s Barn, a nightclub at the corner of DeBaliviere and Pershing at 2:00 a.m. when a patron ordered him to stop playing. The patron was his boss – the owner of KWK – Thomas Patrick Convey.

This posed a bit of a problem for Olin Gibson, because he was making almost twice as much money at the nightclub as he was making at KWK. When Convey told him to choose between the radio job and the nightclub, Gibson quickly decided he’d rather continue playing the piano at The Barn and turned his attention once again to the keyboard.

Witnesses told police that Convey then began razzing a patron of the establishment, Joe Reichmann, who was a musician and announcer on rival station KMOX. Even in the late hour, others in the club were reportedly offended by Convey’s behavior and “objectionable language.” Many people complained to the club manager and at 4:15 Convey was presented with his hat and coat and escorted to the exit by three members of the establishment’s management, while the piano music played by his former employee provided an ironic soundtrack.

When Police Court No. 1 convened the following day, Judge Harry P. Rosecan seemed ready for what was about to transpire. Lester Newman, business manager of The Barn, and Convey had charged each other with disturbing the peace.

Gibson, the piano player, was called to the stand. “Thomas Patrick made me so mad interrupting my piece I wanted to kick hell out of him,” he testified.

When Convey was sworn in, he gave his full name, Thomas Patrick Convey, to which the judge added, “Now broadcasting.”

Convey told the court he’d gone to The Barn with the sole purpose of forcing the piano player to make a choice, because Gibson couldn’t work at two jobs and do both well. He also admitted to tossing a few verbal jabs at Reichmann, which he described as “kidding back and forth,” but he claimed the language used was not offensive.

While still under oath, the radio station owner was asked if he’d been drinking prior to his visit to The Barn.

“Well, I wouldn’t consider it drinking,” he testified. “I had a bad cold and was taking spiritus frumenti prescribed by my doctor. I think it was in a pint bottle, but I don’t know because I’m not used to carrying bottles.”

Judge Rosecan dismissed all charges against both men and told the courtroom, “This will be broadcast as a draw.”

(Reprinted with permission of the St. Louis Journalism Review. Originally published 09/08)

KRCH came into being on May 1, 1967 when those call letters were granted to Foreground Music, Inc., which had purchased the old KSTL-FM frequency. The station had been silent for nearly two years. A “good Music format” was broadcast.

In 1969, a construction permit was granted allowing the station to increase its power to 100,000 watts and change its tower location. The new tower was erected atop the Colony Hotel in Clayton, across the street from the studios at 111 S. Bemiston.

A couple years later the license was assigned to national broadcast powerhouse Bartell Broadcasting, which was later acquired by Downe Communications. The call letters were changed to KSLQ on August 3, 1972.

For a short period of time KWK reared back and became the “Soul of the City.” The idea was great, but the deck was stacked against its success.

The station had been forced off the air by the Federal Communications Commission in 1966, following a fraudulent contest. An interim owner, Karin Broadcasting, ran the station for awhile, programming middle-of-the-road music. In 1969, the F.C.C. decided the ownership question, and broadcast veterans Bernie Hayes (Music Director and Operations Manager) and Albert “Scoop Sanders” Gay (program director) were brought in to program the station under the new ownership – Hayes from KATZ where he had been hired a year earlier, and Sanders from KXLW. They assembled a superb staff and the station introduced the new format the first week of August.

It had not been an easy road to that sign on. Eight groups had competed for the permanent license. After a protracted legal battle, a compromise was reached giving Victory Broadcasting 75 percent ownership and Archway Broadcasting 25 percent. Clifton Gates was the lead man for Victory. Joseph Vatterott headed Archway. The new company was known as Vic-Way Broadcasting.

When the new format hit the air, KWK’s listeners were quick to protest. They didn’t care about the behind-the-scenes ownership machinations. All they cared about was the loss of their format and disc jockeys. The employees of Karin Broadcasting also rebelled. They protested to the F.C.C. that Karin was still the station’s rightful owner.

The resultant chaos brought huge financial losses (about $1,000 per day), and the new owners were unprepared to cover them On August 15, listeners heard an announcement that the station was shutting down for a few weeks so facilities could be built for a studio and transmitter. Ten days later, the station was back on the air. Previous employees of Karin Broadcasting had been fired. A couple of those former employees stormed the station’s studios on a mid-September night. The resultant lawsuit seeking a restraining order alleged two Karin people attempted forcibly to remove Vic-Way workers from the studio.

By the end of 1969, things were looking up for Vic-Way. The Ford Foundation announced it was loaning the company $500,000, to be matched by loans from local banks. This, Gates said, would provide the capital to build needed facilities. KWK also announced it was providing free ad time to Negro businesses. Meanwhile, staffers Al Waples, Don St. John, Bill Bailey and Al “Scoop Sanders” Gay set out to win over the market’s teen audience.

The first surveys following the format change found KWK sweeping past its competition, KATZ and KXLW, grabbing a huge segment of the Black audience and many white listeners as well. New names appeared on the station’s roster, including Jim Gates, Tom Joyner, Bill Moore, Jake Jordon, Sonny Joe White, Tony “Slinky Slim” Stitum, Donn Johnson, and Mark Gordon. Black recording artists like James Brown, the Temptations, Stevie Wonder and Billy Eckstein stopped by the station for interviews when they were in the area. But in spite of all the programming success, the combined ownership setup was not working.

The bed of roses came to an end in May of 1972 when the station’s disc jockeys and newsman walked off the job. They said they were protesting several moves by a new management team, including the removal of Bernie Hayes from his operations manager position. After the strike, Hayes and Sanders were hired at KTVI-TV. Then came a lawsuit from the radio station’s landlord over $18,000 back rent. In December of 1973, KWK was declared bankrupt in federal proceedings.

(Reprinted with permission of the St. Louis Journalism Review. Originally published 09/2007)

When KRCH signed on in May of 1967, Igor was there, pumping out 24 hours of “adult music” every day. Chief engineer Mike Waldman remembers Igor well: It was an IGM automation system installed in the control room in the Siteman Building at 111 South Bemiston in Clayton.

The nickname can be attributed to those people who had to baby sit the machine, and it’s doubtful the moniker came out of admiration. Anyone who dealt with those early automation systems knows they were finicky and undependable, prone to malfunction on a whim and for no apparent reason. Unlike today’s radio stations’ KRCH always had a live person on duty. The announcers were expected to be personalities, producers of commercials, and babysitters for Igor.

Born near the beginning of the FM boom, KRCH was on a frequency of 98.1 mHz, which was the old KSTL-FM dial spot. Foreground Music, Inc., the corporate name for the company owned by Gerry Mollner and Richard Friedman, was the licensee, but their first priority had been to buy KSHE from then-owner Ed Ceries in 1963. The amount they offered was $5,000 too low, and Century Broadcasting, owned by the Grafmann brothers, was the successful bidder. Foreground was able to purchase KSTL-FM from the Haverstick family in 1967, and they were required to jump through a few hoops with Clayton’s municipal government in order to get a “special permit” to locate their offices there. Initially, company vice president Richard Friedman got a recommendation of conditional approval, providing he put the transmitter and tower somewhere else.

Within three years, a new tower was erected in downtown Clayton. Dick and Nancy Friedman remember it well. “We had a helicopter take the pieces up. The man who owned the hotel, Meyer Loomstein, knew we had to drill through the roof. In fact, for a long time I had a cone of concrete sitting on my shelf. It had been a piece of the roof of the Colony Hotel that they had to drill through to anchor the 72-foot tower. We had to do it on a Sunday. We had cleared everything through the City of Clayton so it wouldn’t mess up traffic.”

The format was described in a Post-Dispatch article as relaxed, good music, “75 percent instrumentals and 25 percent vocals – selections from Broadway shows, updated versions of old favorites, and new, good music numbers.” The station bragged that it had pioneered an approach in St. Louis in which only eight minutes of commercials were played each hour. “We were probably one of four local stations with an easy listening format; Harry Eidelman’s KCFM, I think WIL-FM and WRTH were also doing it,” says Dick Friedman. “It was popular all over the country and was doing very well for the stations that had it then.” In 1970, an hourly gimmick was added in which the newsman would broadcast alternately in stereo through the left and right channel, which supposedly gave listeners an opportunity to appreciate stereo separation.

It was one thing to get a station on the air, but as many others had found, it was another thing to actually sell enough advertising to make money on the deal. “What you would run into was some people saying ‘You guys are going to ruin it with all those commercials. You’re going to make it like AM radio. We like it the way it is now with beautiful music for long periods of time and no commercials.’ We’d overcome that by telling them there’d only be 8 minutes of commercials per hour, which meant there were 52 minutes of music.

“I can’t tell you how many people told us we were going to go broke and we were crazy for going into the radio business. It was terrific. Don’t listen to the naysayers,” says Friedman. By the time KRCH was sold to Bartell Broadcasting 5 years later, the Friedmans felt they had done well on their investment. The purchase of KSTL-FM had cost less than $100,000. The sale price to Bartell was several times that amount. New call letters, KSLQ-FM followed the sale.

(Reprinted with permission of the St. Louis Journalism Review. Originally published 04/02)