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The question came in a phone call in October, 2004. David Ohlemeyer’s company, The Lawrence Group, was in the process of rehabbing St. Louis’ Marquette Building. Atop the building, an extra room had been built, and there was also a huge radio tower on the roof.

Ohlemeyer had found some papers and wanted to know, just out of curiosity, whether a radio station had operated there. Since the place was filled with construction workers and the elevators were out of order, a 20-story climb was in order.

Sure enough, the room he had talked about looked like it had been used as a studio. There were even a few perforated acoustical tiles still on the wall. But no documentation could be found to link a station to a studio here.

Those papers he’d found were a gold mine. They were bills of sale for the tower and its antenna, made out to Thomas Patrick, Inc. at the Chase Hotel, which was the parent company of KWK. The tower, purchased in December of 1946, was 270 feet tall. When erected, the tower’s top light was 574 feet above street level, making it the highest broadcast tower in the area. But the antenna to be installed on the tower was for an FM station. KWK was an AM station.

All of the equipment was delivered to 314 North Broadway, then known as the Boatmen’s Bank Building. Thomas Patrick, Inc., had been given permission in 1945 to erect an FM station on a frequency of 95.3 megacycles. The station came on the air in September of 1946, so this tower would not have been in use initially.
The Federal Communications Commission changed KWK-FM’s frequency to 99.1 the following year. The change appears to have come in August, 1947, thus bringing the new tower into use. But the mystery of the studio remains unclear.

In October 1946, an article in the Globe-Democrat told of KWK’s purchase of a two-story former bank building at the corner of Fourth and Pine streets downtown, a block away from the then Boatmen’s Bank Building. The article stated “One of the most modern broadcasting studios in the Midwest has been planned” for the building.

But the best-laid plans failed to become reality. For unknown reasons, the building was never refurbished. Three years later, May 9, 1949, KWK-AM and FM moved their studios to the building at Twelfth and Cole where the Globe-Democrat’s FM station KWGD was being shut down. At the same time, the company that owned KWK and KWK-FM changed its name to KWK, Inc.

The new building had its own broadcast tower on site, rendering the tower atop the Boatmen’s Building redundant. By the end of the year, the St. Louis Star-Times entered into an agreement to buy and use the tower on The Boatmen’s Building for its station, KXOK-FM.

There was never a mention of permanent studios at the Broadway address but an interview many years later provided an explanation. KCFM was broadcasting from the tower after a disastrous fire destroyed their facilities, and owner Harry Eidelman made reference to the fact that his announcers were using the “temporary studio on the 22nd floor of the Boatmen’s Bank building.”

The temporary studio had been put in place after construction of the tower so the radio station would have a place to originate broadcasts in such an emergency.

(Reprinted with permission of the St. Louis Journalism Review. Originally published 1/2009).

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)

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