Every once in a while, I miss sitting in a radio studio late at night…with just a mic, a couple of turntables, and the tech on duty…in the middle of the otherwise dark skyscraper called the RCA Building in New York…on the air at WNBC… huddled down with good people who were listening all across America. All of us…just trying to make it through the night.
Besides the sometimes pretty intense connection with the listeners in the wee small hours, I got to work with some very special folks. Wolfman Jack for instance.
And yes, that’s what he really liked to be called by the other guys at the station. His real name was Bob Smith, and like me, he grew up in Brooklyn, New York. Wolfie was a comic book character with a huge heart. What most people didn’t realize was that the screaming and ‘wolfin’ while the mic was open was his act. The quiet shuffling through his liner cards and sometimes singing along while the records played was more like the very likeable guy he really was.
My Lady Wonder Wench came with me to the station pretty frequently…partly just because I liked having her with me, and partly to protect me from the soft, sweet voices on the request line. That’s part of another story I’ll tell you some time. But the thing she always says about Wolfie is; “He was always a gentleman to me. He was very comfortable.” I’d say basically the same thing about him. He was a very comfortable guy.
That’s not to say that he didn’t know how to howl when the moon was full. As a matter fact the phase of the moon didn’t really have much to do with it when the music got to Wolfie. Low down R&B music especially. Race music is what they used to call it before the great Alan Freed made it mainstream. Wolfie was a black man in white skin…a white man who could definitely jump. And nothing was safe from getting knocked over in the studio when Wolfie was up and jumping.
But sometimes, especially after he had been naughty, things were kind of quiet while the records were playing. I mentioned liner cards, and those of you in the business probably thought it was a misprint. Liner cards are usually station position statements that a Program Director wants the guy on the air to read at pre-determined times. Real interesting stuff like, “More music, less talk.” That kind of crap. Wolfie’s liner cards were different. They contained what he called his, “statements to my honeys.” Sometimes, quick snippets of philosophy… kind of like the stuff in Johnathan Livingston Seagull. Sometimes, just barely disguised pick up lines. Sometimes the words really didn’t make much sense at all…except when Wolfie was saying them.
When Wolfie came to WNBC, “Cousin Brucie” was still at WABC. The WNBC promotion department took a series of ads featuring tombstones with “Brucie”s name on it, and captions that said something to the effect that Wolfie is here, and Brucie’s time had come. That never happened. And ironically, when Wolfie left WNBC, “Cousin Brucie” came over to our side. Wolfie was as New York as the Brooklyn Bridge. He made his radio reputation on the west coast, and over the border in Mexico. But if you ever wonder where he kept his heart, look at the call letters on the microphone in almost all his pictures. They read WNBC. New York. He was a Brooklyn kid who refused to grow up.
Dick’s Details Quiz. All answers are in the current podcast.
1- What does it take besides grapes to make wine ?
2- Why is the Manx breed of cat popular in old age homes ?
3- Why do gun control advocates get upset at some Brooklyn mothers ?
Dick’s Details. They take your mind off your mind.
I always liked being on the air at night. I called the listeners, “My Huddle.” That’s because to me, it felt like a football team in a huddle. A bunch of folks protecting and helping each other to make it to the goal…which in this case was…dawn…and a new day. There are a couple of personal audio cds that are based on some stories the folks in my huddle told me on the phone in the middle of the night. The cds are called Night Connections, and Night Connections 2. One of those stories hit me so hard, that I mixed it with a song you know, done by Whitney Houston. It’s in the current podcast. If you like the story, just keep the podcast, or if you want a copy of just the story, go on back to the home page, and download it from the Night Connections icon.
That was something…sitting there in the middle of a dark Manhattan skyscraper…talking to the world…through the tough hours of the night. There were other studios in the middle of the night…one in Boston that I’ll never forget…calling the plays for the folks in my huddle. But Brooklyn was my home town. Wolfie and me. A couple of Brooklyn guys, who had lots of fun on the air…in our home town.
Back around 1969 I was in LA, having just gotten out of the Army, and listening to a local DJ who called himself Wolfman Jack. He sounded black, and most people thought he was. But the radio station was near Western Ave. so I dropped in. There was this short, slightly heavy red headed guy there who, though polite, indicated that I shouldn’t be there. I left, but did mention to my friends that I met Wolfman Jack, and that he was a white guy. No one believed me! Now I wonder… it may be the same guy that you knew which is really cool because, although no one I knew then would remember this I always will, much like I remember our first meeting in the parking lot at WBZ. 2 slightly weird looking guys driving in a blue International travelall with great big Recognize Atchison as President on the side). Yes, I know, that was 1966 and a long time ago, but you were a “Famous Radio DJ” so of course I remember it as if it were yesterday.
Dick,
Between ’74 and ’78 I was along for the ride on many of those nights. As was my friend Alan (whom you know) and Risa. Good memories, good times.
Huddling with the huddled masses… NYC’s Lady Liberty’s home town, too.
Very special, indeed.
traveling between Boston&NYC the best radio ever