News from Our Archives

The “real” pioneers of radio – those people who used to fall asleep with a pair of ear phones clamped to their heads – will remember those early days  and a station answering to the call letters – if that’s what they were – 9YK, before Department of Commerce officials assigned the letters now familiar to most radio listeners.

For quite some time prior to 1921, WEW was experimenting in radio transmission, the outcome of these experiments being the present station. The period of experiment might be termed the “pre-historic” period of WEW’s existence, inasmuch as officials have chosen to date its official life from April 26, 1921, when the station inaugurated the first regular broadcasts it presented at regular, stated periods, twice a day. These reports are still being broadcast and have been for the twelve years of its history. Incidentally, the time for these releases has not changed in the twelve years except in one detail – the night broadcasts were discontinued because the station’s present license allows only daytime transmission.

Contemporary reports of this inaugural program are interesting, if not amazing, in the light of present day radio reception. A reporter for the Belleville Advocate stated in a news story of the reception in Belleville: “Eventually the government hopes that wireless receiving sets will be established in the farm houses of the land so wireless communications may be established throughout the country.” Recent census reports have indicated that the “hopes” have been realized far beyond the expectations of the most optimistic prophets of that time.

Scattered reports on reception indicated that an almost identical procedure was followed in each of the receiving points. First there was a distinct whistle; then the whistle changed to a “cat concert,” presumably of the back fence variety. Rumbling noises followed with occasional outbursts of staccato, sharp interruptions, after which a human voice became audible. Quoting again from a newspaper account of this epoch making broadcast: “Whoever did that talking had some voice and knew how to make even a prosaic weather report sound real impressive.” This was the first official weather report sent out over radio in the United States, and Rev. William H. Robison, S.J., President of St. Louis University at that time was the one who read the report. The words may be likened, by comparing later developments, to the shot fired at Fort Sumpter [sic] which was “heard ‘round the world.”

The years slipped by speedily, with WEW constantly keeping abreast of the developments as each was introduced. Still under the science division of the University, the radio station became a vehicle for experiment by members of the meteorological department, notably Brother George E. Rueppel, S.J., who more than any other single person, is responsible for the progress of WEW from the weak, dot-dash transmitter into the present modern, telephone broadcasting with an enviable record for fulfilling its purpose – existing for the “interest, convenience and necessity of the public.”

In November of 1926, a new transmitter was installed and was universally acclaimed as one of the most efficient transmitting stations in the country. A short time later, the transmitter and studios were relocated – this time in the Law School of St. Louis University, its present location.

During the middle of the year of 1932, a comprehensive expansion program was begun, shortly after the appointment of Rev. Charles T. Corcoran, S.J., as director of the station. From that time until the present day, the expansion plans were carried out slowly but effectively, and the result has been the attainment of an enviable reputation among radio listeners in St. Louis and the surrounding territory.

WEW is perhaps the only non-commercial station broadcasting regular entertainment features during most of the time its license allows. This fact, in itself, has caused much comment among people who have appreciated the efforts made by the station without capital or material aid from advertising sponsors.

(Originally published in Radio and Entertainment 5/6/1933).

By Nancy Fraser
Borrowing a dainty little flashlight as the 1932 version of Diogenes’ lantern, I foregathered with the “Old Night Watchman” of WIL on Sunday night to help him augment the revels of St. Louis night life upon his rounds to assure radio listeners that “All is well.”

Thrilled to death I was for the idea of being assistant “watch lady” was unique enough in itself without having the fun of tearing about the city in a battery and amplifier-ladened Ford with a red lantern swinging in its wake. It was with a feeling of romantic glow of adventure that I met Billy Lang, the Old Night Watchman and Little Willie Keller, the remote control man at the Ambassador Theater at 8 o’clock to begin the thirty-five mile round. I wasn’t disappointed.

There in the screening room were the twenty “Gloom Chasers” led by a collarless Al Roth, Ambassador music director. They were working hard on the torrid night to send sweet strains of music over the air. As the last noted were wafted, up jumped Little Willie and disjointed the microphone and started putting wires and tubes and boxes together; the Night Watchman helping him. Being somewhat of a novice at the serious business, I was so confused that I all but got coiled up with the cords and put into the panel box. They discovered me in time though and we were out of the street and crammed into the “waiting” Ford to begin our land “hop” down to Sauter’s Park.

Streets flew by, headlights danced and the soft air from the Mississippi rose to greet us as we accomplished that leg of the journey in less than thirty minutes.

Little Willie dashed into the pavilion ahead of us and by the time we had threaded our way over the gaily illuminated floor, he had set up the microphone, twisted a few knobs on the amplifier and was ringing the control room in WIL saying “OK.” Then the Night Watchman climbed on the stage and with his “Heigh-Ho, everybody” began announcing the numbers of Dewey Jackson’s Harlem hot rhythm band.

I couldn’t help but reflect what a lot of pleasure such an open air place gave young people who were swaying and whirling around in floor in an inspired manner. It was cool, gaily lighted and the music impelling. I had a severe case of the “jitters” when Billy Langinvited me up to the microphone to announce a few of the numbers and couldn’t help envying him his easy manner and infectious smile as he greeted his friends both on the floor and over the air. There is a stir of anticipation when the Old Night Watchman enters each place and it is easy to see what an addition he is to the spirit of revelry.

The half-hour raced by and we were going through the same performance of taking down  the equipment and loading it into the car although I had by then learned enough to keep out of the way and to even carry the tiara-like mike with the significant call letters WIL across the top.

Dodging returning weekenders in a nineteen-mile circle of the country, we found ourselves on the Olive Street Road at Diane’s, the new dine and dance palace. We received a royal welcome there from everybody from the doorman up to Miss Diane herself.

Little Willie had the accoutrements strung up in the mere “twinkling of an eye” while Miss Diane, who is a tall, stately and gracious blonde person, proudly showed me the softly lighted café and introduced me to the delightfully silly entertainers including Al Rusell, the dancer, Larry Green, eccentric second Al Jolson and Ray DeVinney, drummer dance band leader.

The smart looking crowd joined in the dancing and greeting of the Night Watchman and a lot of impromptu specialties went over the air. The music was good, the crowd lightly gay and the hostess charming – so it was small wonder that the Night Watchman and humble assistant sneaked in a syncopated three turns about the floor before tearing ourselves away to join Bill Bailey at the Canton Tea Garden. And it was a thrill to dance with six-feet-four-and-a-quarter charming Billy Lang – Night Watchman or otherwise.

Another Ford flight and we were back in the center of busy St. Louis listening to Bill Bailey’s eccentric xylophone playing. There I helped Billy in “heighhoing,” getting the numbers all mixed up but thoroughly enjoying myself. It was just twelve when we bade the audience a regretful goodnight and little Willie packed up for the last time. Fleet Smith joined us and with our official duties over, we went back to Diane’s to catch the last floor show.

With tapping steps and well sung popular tunes still resounding in our ears, we left there in time to join the two o’clock bathing party at Sauter’s Park and it was near the dawn when we finally disbanded.

Weary I was but enchanted with the amusing possibilities of nightwatching with infectiously charming Billy Lang leading the lanterned way who uses the microphone instead of the stick to announce “All is Well.”

(Originally published in Radio and Entertainment 7/30/1932).

J.L. Van Volkenburg has been appointed Director of Operations subsequent to the resignation of William H. West who has served in that capacity for the past year.Mr. Van Volkenburg came to KMOX last October as Director of Sales and will continue as Sales Manager as well as Chief Executive of the station.

A graduate of the University of Minnesota, Mr. Van Volkenburg has been on the stage and featured as an entertainer and musician over the air. He left stage work to go into advertising and was Director of Radio at Batten, Barton Durstine and Osborne Agency before coming here. He is but thirty-two years old and one of the youngest executives of a 50,000 watt station in the country.

Other appointments made at the station subsequent to Mr. West’s resignation include the advancement of Nicholas J. Zehr to the position of Radio Engineer in charge of the transmitter plant in St. Louis County and Graham L. Tevis to Audio Engineer in charge of studio reception, wire lines and remote control.

(Originally published in Radio and Entertainment 2/4/1933).