Picturing Pat

The only person who scared me worse than George J. Jennings was Pat Walsh. Jennings was an imposing figure, over six feet tall, dark-haired and stentorian of voice. He looked—and sounded—like a full grown Orson Welles. He carried himself like Patton and did not suffer fools, gladly or otherwise. Pat Walsh had no refinements that I was ever able to determine.

“Don’t you think he looks like a big old Razorback hog?” Phil North asked me early on. Yeah, I did!

Describing Pat reminds me of the fable of the six blind men who went to look at an elephant. One touched the side of the beast and said the elephant was like a wall. Another grabbed its tail and said the elephant was like a rope. The one who felt its trunk said the elephant was like a python, and so on. They each had a little piece, but none of ‘em had the whole picture. That’s how it was (and will probably always be) with Pat.

His exterior was not a pretty sight—I wrestled with the word “ugly” but it lost on points. Let’s just say he was scary-looking. To the point where a kid from Friendship decided that George wasn’t so bad after all.

Pat was HUGE. He’d have gone 300 pounds easy. Like George, he was over six feet (it occurs to me now that 1971 was a good year for tall idols) and belted his pants halfway up a beer belly gone wild. He never wore a tie at work, probably because there was no off-the-rack shirt in this world that would button around such a neck as he had.

His dishwater-blond hair, the line of which started way up his forehead, was somewhere between a crew cut and a flat top. It was never longer than three-quarters of an inch and it laid in every possible direction. He had jowls like Jabba The Hutt and the upper right portion of his forehead was adorned with what they told me was a whiskey knot.

His voice was the opposite of Jennings’—nasal and shrill and LOUD. When he was chewing somebody’s butt to bloody shreds in his office up front, you could hear it VERY clearly all the way to the back door. I ran outside more than a few times, fearing the roof would blow right off from one of his tirades.

His desk was legendary. How it did not collapse from the weight of the papers stacked on it I will never know. It was a monument to clutter, a doctoral thesis of apparent disorganization. Yet you could ask Pat for Pulse ratings numbers from 1964 and he could whip ‘em out in under three seconds. Once, during one of his rare vacations, Eloise Copeland, Celeste Dozier and Eula Mae Caldwell (three of the great women without whom KAAY would NOT have functioned) had the temerity to clean off his desk and carefully file every document away. When Pat returned, the fecal matter immediately struck the blades of the rotating ventilation device. I was not there, but I am told the air turned purple before it went black. Pat said it took him nearly a month before he could find anything again.

Lest I leave you with the impression that Pat Walsh was the cigar-chomping evil twin of Lou Grant on steroids (with none of Mr. Grant’s charm), let me point out that Pat was the greatest General Manager that KAAY ever had. You can’t find anybody to refute that. Nobody who came after him was worthy of polishing his Buick station wagon. He was the first—and probably only—GM in the history of Lin Broadcasting who ever billed a million dollars from a stand-alone AM station in a calendar year. The decline of KAAY can be placed squarely at the feet of whatever idiot it was at Multimedia (to whom Lin sold the station in 1976) who thought it would be a good idea to replace Pat. KAAY began to lose its mojo on the day when I watched Pat clean out his office.

Here is the essence of Pat Walsh: in the early summer of 1971, I had moved to Little Rock to fill in for vacationing DJs. My status went from part-time to full-time and I worked for fully a month without a day off. The payroll at Lin lagged a week or so behind, and the paycheck I got wouldn’t even cover my rent. I went to Pat about it and he pulled a roll of twenty-dollar bills out of his pocket that staggered me. He peeled off a hundred dollars—which was some MONEY back then—and told me to let him know if I needed more.

Years later, when I reminded him of the incident and thanked him again, HE DIDN’T EVEN REMEMBER IT! Eloise Copeland summed it up for me: “Oh, that’s just Pat. He’d have done that for anybody.”

Pat Walsh raised me from a pup. He didn’t have to give me the time of day, but I guess he saw something in me that was worth cultivating. He would never answer my questions directly, preferring to make me think for myself—to figure things out the way he had always done. He PUSHED me into what I am today and I thank his splendid memory for it.

I have only one big regret about our long relationship. I never did tell him that I loved him.

But I think he knew.

David B. Treadway
Doc Holiday VII

Bobbie Walsh, Wife Of Pat Walsh, Passes On To Radio Heaven

Thanks to Richard Robinson, on Facebook...the entire message here:

 

"For those KAAY fans who knew or knew of J. Pat Walsh, who was a manager of KAAY and a broadcast media consultant for many years in Little Rock, I have some sad news to report. His widow, Bobbie Walsh, died on August 18, 2020. Her graveside service was held on Saturday. Bobbie loved the Arkansas Razorbacks, Pat Walsh and her family. When Pat was managing KAAY, Bobbie used to sit at home, listening to the competing stations and taking down the names of all of their advertisers for use by the sales staff at KAAY. I'm posting the link to her online obituary for your information. I had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Walsh when I interviewed Pat in their home and later Bobbie after Pat's death. It was a pleasure to know her and I am sorry to hear of her passing."

https://www.arkansasonline.com/obituaries/2020/aug/21/bobbie-walsh-2020-08-21

Thank you, Richard, for your info on this....

 

Bud S. (staceys4@hotmail.com)

Herbie Byrd and Pat Walsh

I remember Herbie Byrd well.  His professionalism as a broadcast radio journalist was legendary in Arkansas.   In one of my interviews with Pat Walsh (actually, it was a telephone conversation in the car, headed for a luncheon with media types in Little Rock), he spoke of Byrd.  Pat said that while the KAAY news team - which had several reporters and at one point two farm reporters - was great, they could rarely get the scoop on a story before Herbie Byrd.  Walsh was highly complimentary, and a great admirer of the reporter.  In fact, he indicated that he approached Byrd on more than one occasion about going to work the the mighty 1090, but Byrd was loyal to KLRA and never moved to KAAY.  


This is an interesting point, because Walsh did not think highly of employees who jumped to another station in Little Rock from KAAY.  In fact, he had a hard and fast rule that if a staff member, especially a disc jockey, went to another station in the Little Rock market, he would never rehire that person back at KAAY.  You may wonder why, given the fact that KAAY was the dominant station in the market, that anyone would want to do that.  But some of them did.  Probably the most historic case was Howard Watson, who was one of the "Ken Knights" on KAAY.  Howard left KAAY for KMYO ("Cameo") in LIttle Rock and tried to take the moniker Ken Knight with him.  KAAY sued him and won.  As a result, KMYO held a contest to give him a new name.  The listeners dubbed him "Len Day."  This was ironic, because KAAY was owned at that time by the LIN (Louisville-Indianapolis-Nashville) Broadcasting Corporation, and some thought that this was a jab at them.  Both Howard and the station denied it, of course.


It was obvious in my conversation with Walsh that he had the greatest respect for Herbie Byrd, both as a broadcast journalist and as a person.  The two remained close friends through the years, even after Walsh retired from radio.  Herbie Byrd was the consummate professional in Arkansas radio news, and Pat Walsh knew it.


Richard Robinson

Bob Steel, A.K.A. "Michael O'Sullivan" Checks In!

OH BOY!  I'd tried to reach Bob Steel via several means- and had missed him by mere minutes when I was in Little Rock back in 2011- but it was through LinkedIn that I was able to get a message to him- and he replied almost immediately!  Bob is a consummate broadcaster and many, many people love his style.  We've posted about Bob a couple of times here on the blog...just type in "Bob Steel" in the upper left-hand corner in the search box.

Here we go!  Without further delay, is what Bob sent me for the blog:

"It was nice to hear from you.  I worked at KAAY in the News Department Monday through Fridays and on Saturday mornings I did “Solid Gold Weekend” until noon.  We all worked six to seven days a week but always at least six.  They gave me the name Michael O’Sullivan.  Michael O’Sullivan was actually the Chief Accounting Officer for the LIN Broadcasting System.  I thought that was kinda funny because I was never very good with math and I thought Bob Steel was a pretty good air name.  It’s my real name too!  Pat Walsh explained to me that he had purchased signs on the back of Yellow Cabs with caricatures of the jocks –and if any of them left, he didn’t have to change the signs.   “You're Michael O’Sullivan,” he said.

 

I started at KAAY during the summer of 1971.  Pat Walsh was the General Manager.  Sonny Martin (Matt White) was the morning man with George J. Jennings doing the news.  I worked as a field reporter until 3 o’clock in the afternoons and then I anchored the news across from Bob Robbins. (Bob Spears)  Nick Markel was the News Director (Mitch Michaels.)  Jack Lee (Gary Souheaver – pronounced sigh heaver) did mid-day news.   There were 4 of us in the news department but I was the only guy that ever went out to news conferences.

 

I did fill-in once for Dale Seidenschwarz, air name: Clyde Clifford when he was on vacation.  He was the voice of Beaker Street.  I will never forget doing that shift.  I only had a 3^rd Class License and so I did the show from the studio and an engineer was at the transmitter.  In those days the FCC required an on duty engineer to be at the transmitter.   I got two letters the week after I did Beaker Street…one was from a sailor on an Aircraft Carrier and the other was from Cuba!

 

It was a great radio station.  We carried the Arkansas Razorback football games and Pat Walsh was a brilliant marketer of the station.  We had all kinds of contests and promotional events.  We did remotes from the “Fun Mobile” and they were frequent.  The station was a powerhouse number 1 when I worked there and the signal went miles and miles at night –north and south – it truly became the “50,000 watt Giant.”

 

I got the job in a weird way.  The News Director, Nick Markel, was fishing on Lake Conway on a weekend when I was working at KCON in Conway.  He heard me reading the news and contacted me the following Monday and asked me if I would like to apply for a job as he was losing one of his reporter/anchors to Memphis.  She was African American and I can’t remember her name.  I was in summer school at UCA going to work on the GI bill and only lacked 16 hours to graduate with a major in Journalism.  I thought I would just take the summer off and work there for a while and then go back to school.  I never returned!  I have spent the majority of my life in broadcasting with a couple of breaks at advertising agencies as an public relations account executive.

 

The funniest thing I remember:  I was on my way home from work one night.  My radio was tuned to KAAY even though “The World Tomorrow” was on.  We featured famous radio preacher Garner Ted Armstrong from 6 'til 7 each night and then went back to Rock n’ Roll.   As I was driving through downtown Little Rock this booming voice came over the airwaves:  “Steel, you forgot your lunch pail.”   It was Jerry Don Pitcock (Jim Pitcock’s brother).  I turned around and went back to the station to retrieve my lunch pail and then went into the control room.  I said, “I can’t believe you did that!”  Without missing a beat…Jerry Don said, “No body listens to that (stuff).”

 

I was at KAAY for a couple of years.  It remains one of the best times of my life.  I was young and just out of the service.  It was fun and KAAY was on the cutting edge of everything cool.  I remember riding with the winners of a KAAY contest in a double decker English bus for a rollin’ party with the KAAY staff and Paul Revere and the Raiders….or at least with the lead singer of Paul Revere and the Raiders, Mark Lindsay.  He was a great guy and the staff and the contest winners had a ball that night.

 

I was the voice of “Aunt Blabby” for the Castle Shop.  I did impersonations of Richard Nixon, John Wayne, Ed Sullivan and others for “The Little Red Barn” – a local head shop.  The impersonations were pretty good but I now realize that everyone I impersonated is dead.  LOL

 

I remember going into the production room after my air shift to cut a spot one night.  There was a cardboard box in the chair.  I picked it up and the lid flew open.  It was full of money!  I counted it.  It was $10,000 dollars!  I called Pat Walsh.   He said, “oh that money is for Children’s Hospital – it’s from the benefit concert that Black Oak Arkansas did last night.  Just leave it there and I’ll get it to them on Monday.”

 

Wayne Moss was the program director.  That was his real name.  He was a strict taskmaster.  Phil North was the evening jock.  I don’t remember his real name but his voice was amazing and he was big time.  He got a job in Chicago right before I left KAAY.  I remember doing his shift while they were looking for someone to replace him.  They sent in a guy to observe me running the board --- they were going to hire this guy.  The show was fast paced and very busy.  I was showing off a little – cueing records, punching spots, answering the phone and recording listener requests with the reel to reel and then retrieving the records… going as fast as I ever had.  The guy didn’t take the job. When he turned down the job, Wayne Moss said, “What did you say to this guy?”  I said, “I didn’t even talk to him much.  It was a wild night.  The phones were on fire and I didn’t have time to talk to him.” .  I think watching me run that board scared him off.

 

I left KAAY to take a job as a reporter for KATV Channel 7.  I remember the day I told Pat Walsh.  I said, “Mr. Walsh, I’ve been offered a job at Channel 7 to be a reporter there and it represents quite an increase in pay.  I’ve got a wife and a baby and I need to take this job."   He said, “You don’t need to take that job, you’re only 23 years old man and you’re working at a 50,000 watt radio station, one of the top stations in the country!”  I said, “I know, I love it here but I can’t eat those watts.”  He laughed and wished me well.  We remained friends throughout my career and until his death many years ago.  I had lunch with him at least once a month.

 

Hope this helps.  Thanks for preserving KAAY broadcast history.

 

All the best,

 

Bob"         

Pat Walsh

Reader & friend of the blog Doug Virden reminded me of this:

"Next Thursday Jan. 21st will mark the 10th anniversary of Pat Walsh's death.  Hard to believe its been 10 yrs. since he passed away.  Knew he died in Jan. sometime and went to the library to find the exact date.  Read in his obit. that he spent a majority of 2005 hospitalized due to an infection he received from surgery in 2004.  Thought you would want to mark the solemn anniversary."

For more info on Pat Walsh, you can check this link for MANY more entries:

 

http://mighty1090kaay.blogspot.com/search?q=Pat+Walsh

 

 

Thanks to Doug Virden!

 

Bud S. (staceys4@hotmail.com)

Wilson Pickett And Pat Walsh‏

Memory becomes unreliable under the heel of time, but a few jewels retain their gleam forever. So it is with two giants in my life.

I was parked at Norwood’s Freez-King in Friendship with the windows of my mother’s 1965 Ford Galaxie 500 rolled down and the radio blasting KAAY, sitting on the fenders with a couple of friends. We didn’t have coins for the jukebox, but that Ford radio pumped pretty good.

The Earth tilted when a new song came on. The drums and the horns got my attention right away, but I was not prepared for the singer. “I’m gonna wait til the midnight hour…” It was the howl of some caveman between bites of raw mammoth meat. “That’s when my love comes tumblin’ down…” It was the glory shout of a gospel singer in the grip of the Holy Ghost. “Gonna take you, girl, and hold you…” John Lennon’s feral “Twist And Shout” was suddenly tamed. Wilson Pickett had brought Soul Music to Friendship—and all I wanted was more!

Over the next couple of years, KAAY played everything Pickett released. (I remember Sonny Martin yelling “Pick it, Wilson!” over an intro.) “Mustang Sally” literally made me jump up and down. “634-5789” put a groove on me that I’ve still got. I don’t think I’d have survived my sixteenth summer without “Funky Broadway.”

It was during this time that Pat Walsh became General Manager of KAAY. I reckon it as the Second Stage of the Golden Age. In my own teenage wasteland, The Mighty 1090 was always playing the latest Soul hits, be they Motown, Stax, Atlantic and/or Muscle Shoals. I wouldn’t learn about Pat for a few more years—but the big station in Little Rock that he commanded was part of my life just as sure as breathing.

Pat was generally hands-off when it came to what records were played on KAAY. He hired the right people and let them do their thing. However, he always said that a hit song was a hit song; didn’t matter if it was Soul or Country or Rock and Roll. If it was a hit, he wanted it on the air. I guess it was Pat who kept the Pickett hits coming. I knew there was something I liked about him!

Fast forward to December of 2005. My wife, Pat (!), and I were driving to the airport for a Christmastime visit to our son in California when I got to thinking about Pickett. My fantasy involved him somehow being on the same flight and I would be the only person on the plane who recognized him. Well, that didn’t happen—but I believe I know why I was thinking of him that day. Less than a month later, he was dead.

And less than a week after that, Pat Walsh was dead. Funny how life works out, huh? No, wait. There ain’t a thing funny about losing two men who were so important to me, so close together! I owe them both more than I can ever repay. I hope they get a good chuckle when they read this Up There.

I hate January.

David B. Treadway
Doc Holiday VII

Answers At Last (David B. Treadway)

I don't know if it was a privilege or a curse, getting to watch from the inside as KAAY moved from 1425 West Seventh Street to the new building at 2400 Cottondale Lane in 1976. A few things troubled me from the moment Dave Montgomery unscrewed the white key from the microphone switch and told me to make sure it got onto the RCA console in the new control room. Now I think I've got 'em figured out--and I'm afraid they are the definition of Tragedy. That move across town was the beginning of the end.

It only took a few days in that wonderful new facility to convince me that something was Not Right. There were some intangibles that had not made the move with us. That old KAAY Spirit never set foot in the new building. The magic just did not transfer when the people did. For years, I wondered where it went, and now I see that it already had been killed off. It was dead before we tore out the last turntable in the old studio.

There were a couple of craters in the Promised Land. Operations Manager Wayne Moss was gone, along with General Manager Pat Walsh. They had both been replaced shortly after LIN Broadcasting sold the station to Multimedia, and if the new guys had a clue at all, it didn't show. Yeah, that's my opinion, but you'd have no trouble finding other insiders who'd be a bunch more blunt.

Replacing Pat Walsh was a huge and fatal mistake. You're getting rid of the only GM in LIN Broadcasting's radio division who once billed a million dollars in one year with a stand-alone AM station? "There ain't but one set of ratings that matters a damn, and that's how much money did you make." Pat told me that when I was 26 and I have yet to meet anyone who can counter it.

The image of Pat Walsh as a hardboiled, obnoxious, money-mad ogre is a fair one--and I believe he cultivated it. But there was a lot more to Pat. His genius was in his belief that you hire the best possible person for the job, then just let them do it. Reward them when they succeed, chew their hindquarters like a starving alligator when they fail--but leave them alone as much as possible and let them work!

Wayne Moss thought like Pat. If you were good enough to be on the air at KAAY, you didn’t need somebody hovering over you. If you screwed up beyond a certain point, Wayne would be on you like two coats of paint (ask me how I know this), but he mostly laid out the path and trusted you to follow it.

The new Multimedia Program Director seemed to take pride in being the exact opposite of Wayne. It was like he never trusted his staff. It seemed as if he was waiting for us to mess up so he could pounce. Very quickly, the perception was that we couldn't be counted on to do our jobs properly, that we needed constant correction. It was a rude slap that long-timers deeply resented, and I think it was a main reason that Sonny Martin III soon bailed out for a new gig at KSSN across town. It wouldn't be too long until Bob Robbins followed him.

You can't be trusted to do your job. Somebody's got to watch you at every moment. There's the difference between KAAY's glory days and the shell it soon became. It's an attitude that's been stifling and crippling Radio from that day to this. It's such a simple thing that it's taken me nearly forty years to figure it out: complete control destroys the soul.

I don't blame New PD 1 for the way he ran things, nor do I blame the ten or twelve who followed him for their methods. Likewise, New GM 1 was just doing things the Multimedia way--as were the half dozen or so who came after him (all of this turnover in well under ten years). The blame rightly belongs to Multimedia Radio, which could not stay out of its own way long enough to let KAAY function.

I look back now and am reminded of the day in April 2011 when I touched the ruins of that glorious RCA BTA 50-F transmitter in Wrightsville. All they had to do was leave it alone…

David B. Treadway
Doc Holiday VII
The Last PD

Eddie Graham

KAAY Blog Site Biographical Sketch

Originally written April 19, 1994

Revised December 31, 2010

How can a tall, skinny kid from a small town in Arkansas make a significant impact in the world of broadcasting and wind up owning his hometown radio stations during his career?  Eddie Graham is one such example.

Loyd Edward Graham was born and raised in the DeGray community, near Arkadelphia, Arkansas.  His father was a building contractor, and many homes in the Arkadelphia and Clark County still stand as a testament to his work.  Loyd Edward Graham, or “Eddie,” was the youngest of eight children.  His mother died when he was five years of age, and his father never remarried.

Graham graduated from Arkadelphia High School in 1955, and attended Henderson State University.  Graham intended to join the Army along with one of his friends, but the opportunity to get a job in the broadcasting industry beckoned.  Actually, his friend quit a job, and his boss hired Graham.  That was in 1956, and the job was studio engineer for KTHS radio in Little Rock.

Suddenly, Graham was thrust into the limelight in 1957, during the Little Rock Central High School integration crisis.  Then Governor Orval E. Faubus was speaking to the world about his decision to call in the Arkansas National Guard, in order to prevent the integration of Central High School.  The largest intercontinental network telephone hook-up in Arkansas broadcast history (at the time) was accomplished from KTHS radio.  The Governor answered questions from around the globe about the historic event.  Studio engineer Eddie Graham was the man at the controls.  Over the next several weeks Graham met some of the greatest names ever in broadcast news, including Edward R. Murrow, Douglas Edwards and Eric Sevareid, and of course, Arkansas Governor Orval Faubus.  “I was just a big, overgrown kid from Clark County (Arkansas) and didn’t realize that this was such an historic event in the live of the country,” Graham said.

In 1960 Graham became an engineer with KTHS-AM 1090 in Little Rock, Arkansas.  That same year he also received is FCC First Class Radiotelephone certificate, become a full-fledged licensed broadcast engineer.  While he only attended college briefly, he did attend Draughon’s School of Business in Little Rock, and while there, completed courses in engineering and electronics.  Graham had a keen mind, with a knack for electrical and electronic equipment.  This background and training served him well, as he worked diligently for what would become the number one broadcast radio station in the state of Arkansas.

When the LIN Broadcasting Corporation purchased KTHS and re-named the station KAAY in September 1962, But Graham’s career path changed after a few years as studio and production engineer.  Pat Walsh, who was the sales manager and later general manager of KAAY for a time, once said that “Eddie can do things with a razor blade and splicing tape that people with computer programs can only dream of.”  That was accurate.  At one point, Eddie told me that he could “take the T off of shit.”  He was truly gifted in that way.  Graham could also repair virtually anything, especially anything electric or electronic.  His keen analytical mind, along with his knowledge, skills, and abilities in electronics served him well.  But Pat Walsh saw greater potential in Eddie Graham.  Walsh called him into his office one day and told him that he was going to move him to sales.  According to Walsh, Graham became so upset that he kicked a wastebasket across the room, which Graham denies.

Eventually, Graham saw the potential for greater earnings through radio advertising sales.  Walsh said that he knew that Graham would do well, because he “was a tremendous worker, and people trusted him.”  Those traits paid off for Walsh, Graham and KAAY.  He held the sales record at the station for the largest one-week ad schedule for an advertiser – The Harry Brace Roman Spa – for $10,000 over seven days.  Bear in mind that this was in the 1970s, when radio time was much less expensive, even on KAAY.  In addition, Graham utilized his engineering and production skills, working for advertising agencies, producing and dubbing commercials in his off hours.  He and his wife Carolyn founded the firm “Audio Arts,” which became quite successful.  Graham also taught radio production courses at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock as an adjunct professor.

In the late 1970s, as AM radio popularity began to wane, and the FM stations in markets began making strides in audience acceptance, Graham became interested in looking to purchase his own broadcast property.  He had performed occasional contract engineer work for KVRC and KDEL in Arkadelphia, Arkansas, his hometown radio stations.  While there on a job, he mentioned to the owner, John Riggle, that if her was ever interested in selling the stations, to give him a call, so that they could discuss as potential purchase.

After KAAY was purchased by Multimedia Corporation (now Gannett), eventually Graham left KAAY and went to work in the sales department of KTLT-AM and KLITE-FM in Little Rock.  Then the call from the Riggle family came.  John Riggle’s health was failing and they wished to sell the Arkadelphia stations.  Other parties had approached the Riggle family and made offers to buy, but they were true to their word and to talk with Eddie Graham first.  Over the next several months, with offers and counter-offers going back and forth, the two parties settled on a purchase price.  Once the Federal Communications Commission had approved the sale, the properties were his.  Eddie Graham went back home, to own and manage his hometown radio stations.  They “sold the farm,” which included their country home and rental properties they owned in the central Arkansas area).  He and wife Carolyn settled in Arkadelphia, Arkansas, which is a town of just over 10,000, 60 miles Southwest of Little Rock.  By that time, their three children were grown and had moved away.  This was in 1985.

Unfortunately, hard times came upon the Clark County and Arkadelphia area.  During the first 24 months of radio station ownership, four factories left town, including one that had been in the area for more than 30 years.  Left behind was a shaken community, with over 1,200 jobs lost, and a dwindling retail business base.  Carolyn Graham continues to teach elementary school at Bryant, commuting from Arkadelphia, a 45-minute drive.  Eddie was owner, general manager, sales manager, chief engineer and custodian.  During these lean times (Clark County’s unemployment rate was at one point 17%), Graham was able to service the station debt with clever promotions, low cost ideas, and savvy management.  The economy picked up, new industries located in the area and the market improved significantly for the entire community, including the Graham Broadcasting Company.

MANAGEMENT TECHNIQUES AND PHILOSOPHY

As a “morning man” for Eddie on KDEL for more than 10 years, I observed that Eddie Graham is the type of manager who operates in a relaxed, casual manner.  Unflappable, he rarely “loses it,” when dealing with management decisions or personnel matters.  His knowledge of all of the various aspects of the broadcast industry (radio), including FCC regulations, engineering, sales, promotions, some news experience and personnel management gives him a dynamic combination of skills one could hope for, if they owned a broadcast outlet.  Graham was very involved and plugged into the community.  He was and is a member of the Arkadelphia Rotary Club and served on the board of directors, was an officer in the Clark County Industrial Council, Clark County Fair Board (served one year as president), and the Chamber of Commerce.  He and his wife are active and faithful members of the First United Methodist Church of Arkadelphia.  The couple is visible and respected in the community.  Besides being well liked, Eddie Graham is both trusted and respected.  Above all, he is fair minded and honest.  These traits carry over into his management style. 

  

One of Eddie Graham’s best friends once said, “Graham is a survivor.”  That is certainly a true statement.  He is knowledgeable, competent, hard working and honest.  In my opinion, you couldn’t find a better candidate to own a broadcast media outlet than Loyd Edward Graham.  His efforts impressions left on the broadcast industry of Arkansas have earned him many honors, credits and accolades by his peers in the profession.  His ability to survive hard times in a small media market is a tribute to his ingenuity, work ethic and ability to “stay the course and keep the faith.”  

Eddie Graham sold his stations in 2002 and retired from the radio business.  He and his wife Carolyn purchased another home near Arkadelphia, remodeled and double the size of the structure, and have a couple of acres surrounding it.  Graham refers to it as "Towering Pines Ranch," since it has many tal, tall pine trees on the property.  They remain active in First United Methodist Church of Arkadelphia.  Eddie is in the Arkadelphia Rotary Club, Carolyn is in the Clark County Retired Teachers Association, and they are both active together in the Clark County Fair Association.  Eddie hunts and fishes often, and they spend a lot of time on the road, visiting their children and grandchildren.

Eddie Graham - an icon of Arkansas broadcasting!

Richard Robinson

Jerry Sims' Memories Of Pat Walsh

As always, I enjoyed the post from David B. I have great memories too of Pat Walsh. My impressions of Pat run close to his. Anyone who knew Pat, I am sure, will have stories of his rough, gruff, exterior that he was very proud of. Not everyone got to see the other side. A comment that paints a great picture of Pat in the "compassion department" is this: As a young Sonny Martin, newly married, and feeling rather grown up, I arranged to buy a house. I wanted to take care of all the details of the buy without involving my financial consultant (my dad). When it came time to close on the house the mortgage company called with details of time and place. They also told me the amount of money I would need for closing. I had never known of anything called "closing costs".  I was in a heap of trouble having used all the money I could come up with for a down payment.

I was too embarrassed to talk to my dad about the money. I went to Pat and asked if it was possible to get an advance on my pay. He listened to my story and told me that it was a policy of Lin Broadcasting to never advance anyone pay. I turned to leave Pat's office when I heard him say...."but that doesn't keep me from giving you the money personally.  Just keep it between us." That was Pat. I feel free now to let y'all know. He was my boss and my friend.

Also on hearing the stories of the famous, loud butt chewings.....Funny, but Pat never said anything cross or otherwise to me about my time on the air. Also, not much from A.J.either. Mostly just good or constructive. (like how to say K A A Y without running the two A's together...and they had stopped us from using K- Double- A- Y) The other character in David B's post, G.J.J., a great radio newsman, was not my boss. We got along when we needed to.

Jerry Sims..The Middle....Sonny Martin

David B. Treadway Comments Re: The Cash Cruiser

Richard, you remember Pat Walsh's Cash Cruiser spiel near-perfectly. Anything I could add would be hair-splitting, so here's a view from "inside."

Pat's Cruiser cut-ins always had the William Tell Overture (think "Lone Ranger" theme) playing in the background. I don't know whose idea it was, but I found it hilarious.

The Cash Cruiser was a huge green International Harvester vehicle. I can't remember if the designation was "TravelAll" or "Scout" (before the latter was re-introduced as a smaller rig), but it was an SUV decades before that concept appeared.

The phone system in the Cruiser was mounted on the transmission hump in the front floorboard. It had eight lighted pushbuttons, labeled A through H. In order to place a call, one had to be listening through the handset while punching through the buttons to find a channel that was not busy. Then, one had to use a rotary dial to call the station hotline!

I don't know how Pat did it all without crashing into other cars, but he did an amazing number of things that looked impossible to us mortals. The rest of us would generally do a Cash Cruiser run in pairs, one to drive and the other to work the phone.

Working for Pat Walsh was a wonderful experience after one got over being scared to death of him. There are hundreds of Walsh Stories, the great majority of them eloquently profane. I will search my memory banks to see if I've got one clean enough to post.

I know I say this too often, but it's especially true of Pat: We'll not see the likes of him again!

David B. Treadway
Doc Holiday VII

More Pat Walsh Comments

spiritof67 said...

Pat Walsh reminds me of Robert Hyland. Hyland ran KMOX (CBS Radio) from 1960 until his death in 1992. He pioneered the "At Your Service" format which put KMOX in double digit ratings and annual sales figures in the millions. Hyland was ruthless, but had a keen sense of sales and programming talent--something one doesn't see very often.

Perhaps it takes a certain degree of ruthlessness to make things work, as long as its backed with intelligence, integrity, and an ability to see the big picture. It sounds like Pat Walsh had all of those qualities.

Pat Walsh, A Historical First, And The Razorbacks

Any KAAY fan (and certifyable radio nut like me) could see the connection in the title above.  I thought it signifigant how all three intertwined, so I hope you'll indulge me!

The "historical first" mentioned above was when KFMQ made Arkansas history by airing the first play-by-play broadcast of the Razorback football game on Saturday, September 27, 1924.  This was a practice game between the Arkansas Razorbacks and Northeastern Oklahoma Teachers College, at Razorback Field.  The announcer was A. W. "Johnnie" Porter from the sidelines.  Even another microphone was placed to get the crowd's reaction and the referee's whistle!

Pat Walsh was a big Razorback fan.  Here, from A. J. Lindsey's blog is what is called Pat's personal Razorback tape (click on the link):

http://kaay.podomatic.com/player/web/2007-05-19T14_19_43-07_00

I'll bet Pat is still rootin'!  This recording is 31+ minutes long, so get a cool beverage of your choice, sit back and turn the sound up!

Bud S. (staceys4@hotmail.com)

A Couple Of "Steve Scott" Stories

Steve Morris, a.k.a. "Steve Scott", KAAY, 1974-1976 checked in with a couple of interesting stories!  (notations are mine bs)

"In the two years I worked there, I did 1630-2300 (4:30 to 11:00 PM) hrs. M-F.  From 1630 (4:30 PM) I did production. and at 1900 (7:00 PM) I took over the board to run 'THE WORLD TOMORROW' -Garner Ted Armstrong- which was an hour long program.  We were located in the old Dr's bldg. (W. 7th Street) across the street from the State Capital  and I lived less than a mile away.  I'd run home and get my dog (FUNKY FUGLY! That was his on-the-air name!!) and get on back to the station hoping the pre-recorded tape didn't break while I was gone!!  At 2000 (8:00 PM) it was time to rock-n-roll!!  Nobody in the building at that time except me and Fugly, so I'd just let him run through the building until I needed 'him' to help me read the weather!!   He was the ugliest PEEK-a-POO in the World.  He would get on my lap while I was 'doing' the weather and I could make him growl and bark and he modulated the 50kw GIANT very well!!  At 2300 (11:00 PM), it switched over the transmitter site for BEAKER STREET and me and Fugly headed home, where I went back on-the-air 80 meters ssb (Ham radio, folks bs).

One day I came in at 1630 (4:30 PM) and of course started the day by answering fan mail to me and Fugly (he got his share).  When I checked my mailbox, it was stuffed with paper-towels & CRAP!! (literally).  Seems as though Fugly had been going into Pat Walsh's office to take a dump on occasion!!!  Pat had picked it up & stuffed into my mail box!!!  I got the hint!  BTW:  Pat kept his door closed at night after that!!!!"

Oh, boy...good thing Pat Walsh was who he was, kind soul and all!  So, Steve makes another Ham who worked at KAAY!  A lot of Hams who got off the air (engineers, too) couldn't wind down right away, so they got on the air in amateur mode and talked themselves down- or into the sunrise, whichever occurred first!

I remember when Art Bell, W6OBB, was on the AM broadcast band airwaves overnight, "AM Coast-To-Coast"; he would also get on the amateur airwaves after his shift and he had a weird cult following there, as well.  The frequency was 3.840 MHz in  lower sideband mode, and one could continue to listen to odd goings-on.  But this wasn't about Art Bell, it is about KAAY personnel, namely "Steve Scott"!

Steve currently resides here in the Mobile, AL area and worked at the local powerhouse, WABB before retirement.  We hope to hear from him again very soon...thank you, Steve!

Bud S. (staceys4@hotmail.com)

Happy New Year, "Beaker Street"

Since there have been several postings lately on "Beaker Street," I thought I would post the final chapter of my doctoral dissertation.  A reminder to readers that the entire dissertation is available online through Pro Quest (try Google "Scholar," in the advance search section.  Click on Google Scholar, and type in KAAY's Beaker Street).  You can preview the first 24 pages for free, but if you want the entire work, there is a charge for downloading it.   The charge varies, depending upon the desired format.  Please bear in mind that the posted chapter from the dissertation below is copyrighted, so any reproduction, or unauthorized use without my permission is strictly prohibited.

 As a caution to anyone who might read this - historians, including media historians, sometimes don't get it completely right.  This is especially true of oral history, where you are depending upon the memories of persons during that period.  So if you were at KAAY or listening to "Beaker Street" during this period, your memory or recollections  may not agree with certain facts or details presented.  You could be correct (or more correct) or it could mean that both of you might not recollect the event(s) perfectly.  As one interviewee once said, "If you're the last person alive, you can pretty well tell the story however you want it to be."

CHAPTER FIVE

CONCLUSION

“It was a great time to be in radio; it was a great time to be in Little Rock.”

Dale Seidenschwarz

            The purpose of this study was to conduct historical research about an underground radio program called Beaker Street, which aired on radio station KAAY in Little Rock, Arkansas, from 1966 until 1977. 

Summary Of Findings

Why did the management of radio station KAAY in Little Rock, Arkansas decide to adopt an 

underground music format for the late night-early morning broadcast hours?  The management at KAAY had a dilemma with this portion of their broadcast clock.  They were looking for a way to fill up the late night-early morning hours of airtime on the station, with programming that might generate an audience.  While several options were considered, it was the efforts of the program director for the station that pushed the idea to management.  

 The general manager of the station at that time was Ralph A. “Pat” Walsh, who was known for being a promoter and willing to try new things, especially if the costs and risks were not too substantial.  The initial idea did not excite the manager, partially because no one in Little Rock was aware of stations playing this type of underground musical programming, at least not in the central portion of the United States.  The idea took some selling by Matt White (Sonny Martin).  His argument was that the record companies were sending him music that he couldn’t play on a Top 40 radio station, which is what KAAY was primarily. 

According to Matt White, Walsh was considering several options, and was leaning toward religious programming, because it was so profitable (Lindsay, 2008).  In a Mexican restaurant in Little Rock, White cornered Walsh, who had consumed several drinks by then, and persuaded him to agree to try the program for 30 minutes, initially.  Once the feedback from the listening audience was positive, and appeared to be growing in popularity and numbers, the management had to leave it on, because they didn’t have any other programming that would be as successful.  Beaker Street did well enough that the management of KAAY elected to keep the program on, even expanding the time on the air to 3 hours a day, 6 nights a week.   

There were several challenges to overcome in creating the program. In the case of KAAY, the Federal Communications Commission had a rule that 50,000-watt clear-channel radio stations could not be left unattended at the transmitter site between midnight and 6:00 a.m. each day.  If the air talent were going to broadcast from the studios in downtown Little Rock, then the operation would require two employees because the transmitter could not be left unattended.  The obvious solution was to hire someone who could serve in both roles, as both a disc jockey and transmitter engineer.  This they found in Dale Seidenschwarz.

While the dual role worked in theory, in the beginning it did not appear to be practical.  The noisy cooling fans from the 50,000-watt AM transmitter made it all but impossible for the disc jockey to speak without the noise overriding his voice, and making the presentation distracting, both for the announcer and the listening audience.  A production engineer came up with a solution—having a loop of audiotape with music and sound effects play continually behind the announcer’s voice, eliminating the noise and the problem.  This turned out to be part of the appeal of the Beaker Street program.  

What began as an attempt to mask the transmitter noise became part of the mystique, as the eerie music and sound effects became as much a part of the show as anything else.  A musical band, called The Beaker Brothers Band, in honor of the radio program, offers a website that listeners can visit on the World Wide Web, gather information about the band, and listen to the Beaker Street background music (www.beakerbrothers.com).

A more minor problem was the name of the engineer, who was going to be the host of the program.  For obvious reasons, his real name, Dale Seidenschwarz, was not a good name for a disc jockey.  As was customary at KAAY in those days, general manager Pat Walsh gave Seidenschwarz the air name “Clyde Clifford,” named after the comptroller of the parent company that owned KAAY and other radio stations. 

Interestingly enough, management did not heavily promote the show.  One suggestion was that management didn’t particularly want Beaker Street to do that well.  Another was that they just really didn’t know what to do with it, or how to promote it effectively.  Still another opinion was that for this time period, management really didn’t care to push the show, because it was primarily a Top 40 station.  

There were some efforts, including a poster, some tee-shirts and on-air promotional announcements. But it appears that the success of Beaker Street occurred primarily because of word of mouth, both inside and outside of Arkansas.  Despite the fact that KAAY became known for its aggressive and creative promotions for other programs, the Beaker Street program did benefit greatly from the expertise within the radio station that created it. 

It was a mixture of album cuts, not Top 40 music, which was the primary format of KAAY during this time.  Most of the songs played were referred to as underground, acid rock, album cuts, hippie music, and drug culture and protest music.  Today, those same selections would be called classic rock music.  The Vietnam conflict was in progress during the years of Beaker Street, and the music that was played reflected the social unrest of the times.

The responsibility of selecting the music to be aired began with the program director of the station.  He then forwarded music submitted to the radio station to Clyde Clifford for consideration and it was Clifford who made the decisions about what songs were going to be aired.  Once the listeners began to call in and request songs, Clifford played those requests in the nightly program.  He was allowed virtually complete freedom to program his own music, which was completely different from his Top 40 colleagues during the daytime.  That format was entirely Top 40, and was tightly controlled by the station program director.  Beaker Street was completely different in this way.

In regard to the selections that were popular and often played on Beaker Street, a partial playlist has already been detailed in the study, but among the most popular songs were “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida,” (Iron Butterfly), “Cindi’s Cryin’” (Deep Water Reunion), “Alice’s Restaurant” and “The Motorcycle Song” (Arlo Guthrie), “DOA” (Bloodrock), and “Lord, Have Mercy On My Soul” (Black Oak Arkansas).  Some of these were played virtually every night during the Beaker Street program, and at no other point during the broadcast day at KAAY.

Several advertising sponsors were identified as a result of the research.  From within the confines of the state of Arkansas, numerous head shops purchased advertising, as their products were a natural fit for the underground radio program.  These included The Little Barn and record shops. Beaker Street also garnered advertisers from outside Arkansas, including a drive-in theatre chain in Iowa, concert promotions in Illinois and Missouri (as well as Arkansas), Floyd’s Record Shop in Louisiana, and others.  Advertising sales were not heavy, but businesses that appealed to the young demographic that listened to the underground programming wanted to reach that audience, and they couldn’t do that at any other time.  In addition, because KAAY charged an in-state rate for advertisers, national advertising accounts would get airplay on Beaker Street.  These included Coca-Cola, Pepsi, G. Heilman Brewing Company (Heilman’s Old Style Beer) and Commonwealth Theatres.

It was difficult to measure a late night radio program in the 1960s and 1970s in a market the size of Little Rock, Arkansas.   Clear-channel coverage via skywave allowed the powerhouse 50,000-watt Arkansas radio station to beam its signal all across the central portion of the Western Hemisphere.  During this time period, audience measurement firms, like Arbitron and The Pulse only conducted audience measurement surveys until midnight.  Beaker Street began airing at 11:00 p.m., so the station management was unable to get accurate ratings from the services for the Beaker Street program. There were reports that the station did get a small rating in the Chicago market, and did extremely well in such states as Iowa, where according to one source, it was the number 1 radio station in the Des Moines, Iowa, market during the overnight hours (Graham, 2004).  Letters from listeners indicated that the signal from KAAY was received regularly and with good strength through their radios, whether in automobiles, homes or in businesses.  

The most noticeable form of audience measurement for KAAY was from the listeners, and included mail and telephone calls.  Most of the telephone calls came while Beaker Street was on the air.  The most volume of any response the program enjoyed was from mail.  Beaker Street and Clyde Clifford reportedly received bags and bags of mail every week.  In the beginning, Clifford attempted to respond to the fans, but gave up, because there wasn’t time to do so.  According to one source, the program received “tons of mail” every week (Steel, 2008).  This was confirmed from several sources, as well as station promotional materials.

Interestingly enough, the sales staff did not specifically push Beaker Street in their sales calls.  It was on the rate card, and if a client specifically asked for a rate or an advertising schedule, they would sell it.  Otherwise, it didn’t get much emphasis.  

According to Clyde Clifford, there were numerous inquiries for advertising, but the sales department didn’t follow up on the leads.  Clifford thinks it was because the management really didn’t care if the program was successful or not, and simply didn’t push the program preferring to instead put sales emphasis on other products, such as agriculture reports, daytime ad slots, or sporting events.

Beaker Street was profitable in one sense because it was relatively inexpensive to produce.  The fixed costs of operating the station had to be paid regardless, including utilities and salaries.  The station was on the air anyway, and had to air some type of programming.  The fact that Clyde Clifford did double duty as both a disc jockey and a transmitter engineer helped considerably, given the Federal Communications Commission requirement.  In 1967, the salary for Dale Seidenschwarz, or Clyde Clifford as he was known on Beaker Street, was $102.90 per week, for a nightly expense to the station of $17.15.  It didn’t take too many radio spots to cover the overhead of the station.  Was it a huge profit center?  No, not really.  Was it a moneymaker?  Certainly.  But it didn’t have to be.  KAAY had already become the most popular and profitable station in Arkansas, and did it very quickly, as documented by the company profit and loss statements filed with the Federal Communications Commission.

 

The management of KAAY didn’t expect it to be a huge profit center program, because other than religious shows, no other type of programming made much money during this particular time slot.  But the station was on the air, so they had to program something.  Beaker Street began as an experiment, a way to satisfy the record companies and fill in the late night and early morning hours with a different type of music.  This was not as it is today, when a station has a format that airs all day, every day.  With a split format, the station had a myriad of program material.  They could generally do what they wanted to, as long as it was legal and didn’t create negative publicity for the station.  Beaker Street enjoyed a good 12-year run on KAAY. 

Lots of reasons were given in regard to the circumstances surrounding the cancellation of Beaker Street.  The station was sold to another company, and the general manager, Pat Walsh, left to own and manage radio stations elsewhere.  Despite the fact that Clifford did not feel much support from management for his program, once Walsh was gone, the new management didn’t seem to want to have much to do with the program.  Several managers came through with Multimedia, Inc., the new owners, and once they moved to newer studios in Little Rock, they canceled the show. 

Another factor was that the Federal Communications Commission abandoned its rule that transmitters at 50,000-watt clear-channel radio stations could not be unattended during the overnight hours.  It was perfectly legal to hire a disc jockey to work from the studio, and have an engineer on call.  The nighttime engineer position was no longer necessary, and disc jockey salaries were much less.  The new studios for KAAY did not have turntables in them, and the underground music they were playing was on records at the time.  Compact discs were not prevalent in radio stations at that point in time.  So Beaker Street was taken off the air, despite the fact that it still had fans.  However, the mail volume had dropped, and other stations in the Little Rock market, including FM stations, were beginning to play underground music (now called album-oriented rock, or AOR), so there was competition.  Listeners could hear the same type of music during the day, and no longer had to stay up late for the music they wished to hear.

The beginning of the end for Beaker Street also had a lot to do with the departure of Clyde Clifford.  Once he left in 1974, despite efforts by the station to find another Clyde Clifford, they never could.  Fans reportedly still liked the music, but their friend of the night was gone.  Ultimately, Beaker Street was gone as well.

The answer to this question concerning the political climate in Arkansas during the period of Beaker Street is interesting.  Despite the fact that the Beaker Street program featured protest and underground music, it was being broadcast from a state that was Southern, rural, and largely conservative.  While there was some anti-Vietnam conflict sentiment, particularly on college campuses, most of the people in Arkansas during this time seemed to support the war efforts.  While largely Democratic, Arkansas voters had, and still have, an independent streak about them.  Voters in the state loved longtime Governor Orval E. Faubus, a Democrat who was a key player in the Little Rock Central High School integration crisis, even to the point where the governor was compared to such segregationists as Strom Thurmond, a United States Senator from North Carolina; Lester Maddox, Governor of Georgia; and George Wallace, Governor of Alabama and a former presidential candidate.  Arkansas gave its electoral votes to Wallace in the 1968 United States Presidential election.  However, United States Senator J. William Fulbright was a very liberal politician who served as the senior senator for Arkansas during this time. 

As Clyde Clifford himself said, Arkansas was probably the last place in the world where you would expect to hear underground radio programming during this period.  It was a time of social unrest in the United States.  Most of the Arkansas citizens were conservative, and wouldn’t approve of the types of music that Clyde Clifford played on Beaker Street.  But there was that element, some would say underground, that was liberal and embraced the program.  While Arkansas provided a good audience for the program, it was outside the borders of the state where Beaker Street really enjoyed wild success with its underground approach to radio. 

Despite the fact that the state where Beaker Street originated from was a largely conservative state and region of the United States, criticism, either formal or informal, about the program from civic, political or religious leaders was not discovered in the study.  In fact, little was said about it, apparently.  If anything, the feedback from telephone calls, cards, letters and listener comments was positive.  According to the sources in the study, if there had been much in the way of complaints about the music or the program, Pat Walsh as the general manager of the station would have acted to take it off the air.  Most sources indicated that negative feedback about Beaker Street would have dictated that the program be removed from the air, and that Walsh would have attempted to air programming that was less controversial.

But there were no complaints, to any large degree.  This included such potential critics as politicians, religious leaders, and conservative listeners.  If they objected, they didn’t say much. 

Eddie Graham said that it was probably because the people who were most likely to have objected were probably asleep, and never heard the program much, if at all.  If the station ever received any negative mail or other communication, no one can remember it.  While several sources thought that there might have been some, no one could recall it.  One source, Bob Steel, said that some people didn’t like the businesses that advertised on Beaker Street, particularly the beer and head shop commercials.  But there were apparently no real objections to the programming, or the program.

Discussion

One  concern that kept coming to mind during the research for the study was, “If Beaker Street was so popular, and still is, why hasn’t it been studied before?”  It’s a valid question.  This dissertation has attempted to tell a story that has been largely untold previously, the story of a popular radio program, from a socially significant time in the United States of America.  Radio scholars have written about the era of underground radio during the 1960s, but KAAY and/or Beaker Street has not been studied.  Thanks to access to the World Wide Web, thousands of people are committing their thoughts to blog sites and have established web sites about it.  In addition, individuals are saving, archiving and putting portions of Beaker Street programs from the 1960s and 1970s up on the World Wide Web, so that people can hear the original Beaker Street programs (or portions of them) and save those audio files for personal use. 

So why was Beaker Street so successful?  It was a combination of things.  One factor was that the signal of KAAY put the program into several countries.  For many listeners, there was a certain mystique about hearing a station from far away, even from a place like the state of Arkansas. 

An interesting point is that this period during the 1960s and 1970s was a strong time for the medium of radio.  But this radio program was not born out of necessity.  KAAY was making money, and had a good profit margin.  In fact, it was one of the top radio stations in the LIN Broadcasting Company.  So why did the management do it?  Bobbie Walsh thought that her husband may have found out that this type of music was at least being considered for airplay on other stations, and when presented with an opportunity to create Beaker Street, decided to attempt it.  The fact that it became so successful was a surprise to management.  But like most good managers, when the program became popular, it became a separate, distinct part of the KAAY mystique, and attracted an audience during a time slot when not many people listened to the radio.

Another reason was that the music that Clyde Clifford offered for consumption was music that was popular, but was not being played by KAAY or many other stations.  In the central portion of the United States, and in other countries, if you wanted to hear what one source called “the hippie weird stuff,” then KAAY was really the only choice you had for underground radio.  Add in the fact that the disc jockey was unlike any Top 40 announcer at the time, throw in some sound effects and eerie music, and you have a program that offers something that the others didn’t, and at a time where there wasn’t much going on in radio.  While nighttime radio has always enjoyed an audience, the numbers are usually small.  In the case of Beaker Street, on the nighttime signal of “The Nighttime Voice of Arkansas”, the program was able to reach audiences that only a few other stations could reach.  As Clyde Clifford himself would say, “It was all about the music.”

While it was not possible to ascertain if Beaker Street was actually the first underground radio program in the United States, as KAAY claimed in a poster, one should be able to claim that it was certainly among the first stations in the country, certainly in the Midwestern part of the country, to provide this kind of late-night programming to its audiences. 

Other stations in other areas of the country have been mentioned in books and other scholarly studies.  It is notable that in spite of these studies, Beaker Street did not receive attention.  The purpose of this study was, in part, to tell the story of Beaker Street, in order to detail the contributions (in relation to the period of time in history) of a Southern-based AM radio station in the state of Arkansas. 

Suggestions For Future Studies

Several possibilities exist that could warrant research for other studies.  KAAY has a rich history, and information is readily available about several aspects of the station.  One of the children of Pat Walsh, a former salesperson, sales manager and general manager of the station, is reportedly exploring the possibility of producing a documentary of the station’s history and involvement with the Arkansas Razorback football team.

If you confine efforts to KAAY, a comprehensive survey of former and present listeners might be of interest, and would be potentially significant, for it would compare listeners of the same radio program in two different eras.  Further studies about KAAY’s other unique programs also would be interesting, including the promotions they performed, as well as the station’s large and aggressive news and farm market departments. 

KAAY had an original program, a weekly parody titled “Ear on Arkansas.”  This was a take-off on a television public affairs program on a Little Rock, Arkansas, affiliate of the Columbia Broadcasting System (CBS) KTHV Channel 11.  The television show was called “Eye on Arkansas.”

 Another possibility would be to investigate other underground radio programs, perhaps those that originated from other stations in other states or areas of the country.  It would be interesting to find out which stations, if any, programmed this type of music at any point during the day, late night or otherwise.  Other details, in order to compare a new study to this study, would be pertinent as well.  For example, did any other program, if there was one, compare to Beaker Street?  When did the program begin and end?  What were the circumstances surrounding the program’s creation and ultimate demise? 

Yet another potential research topic would be a study of the LIN Broadcasting Corporation, parent company and owner of several radio stations, including KAAY.  Based upon a preliminary review of material, a study of this type, on this particular company has not yet been undertaken.  The LIN Broadcasting Corporation is still in business and operating in the media business.

Previous studies have detailed the use of KAAY’s frequency and signal to broadcast Voice of America propaganda to the people of Cuba during the Cuban Missile Crisis (Robinson, 2004).  Additional studies might delve into this area of United States and broadcast history, to determine what was actually said to the people of Cuba by the American government for the period in question, some 3 ½ weeks.  Further research to examine any further use of commercial radio stations to beam governmental propaganda might provide more insight into possible media manipulation by government agencies.  Examinations of other countries and their propaganda efforts with broadcast radio stations might provide interesting comparisons and contrasts. 

Other studies could include a history of KOKY, an AM black station in Little Rock, Arkansas, that programmed primarily for black listeners, and dealt with racial issues during the 1960s.  Known as “The Black Spot on Your Radio Dial,” KOKY was a leader in providing what later came to be known as “urban” radio to the African-American population in central Arkansas during roughly the same time frame as KAAY was enjoying the number 1 slot for radio stations in Arkansas.

Comment

 During the 1960s and 1970s, the radio industry thrived as a whole on several levels, in terms of programming, promotions and personalities.  Top 40 stations ruled the airwaves much of the time.  In the state of Arkansas, Beaker Street brought the concept and music of underground radio to the people of that state, as well as much of the Western Hemisphere. 

This came at a time when few radio stations were airing this type of musical programming.  Was it the right program, with the right host, at the right time?  Did Sonny Martin, the program director of the station, along with Clyde Clifford, the host of Beaker Street, foresee the coming trend?  Was it astute programming and management that was willing to be a trendsetter in radio?  Were they just lucky?  Or was it a combination? 

Beaker Street was certainly a novel approach for radio in Arkansas in the 1960s.  In fact, it was what started as simply a means to fill a late nighttime slot, and then turned into a large success for radio station KAAY.  It helped secure the station’s place in American broadcast history.  Like many AM radio stations from that era, it is still on the air, but as Clyde Clifford said, “It went to God,” meaning that it is now a religious station, with all-religious programming, beamed to the same areas that Beaker Street did, beginning in 1966.

Radio scholar Michael C. Keith (2007) wrote a fine work, titled Voices in the Purple Haze, about underground radio during the 1960s.  Neither KAAY nor Beaker Street is mentioned in the book.  Additionally, Keith (2001) authored a book titled Sounds in the Dark, which is a story of all-night radio in the United States. The only mention of KAAY in the book is in a chart of clear channel facilities in the United States, includes KAAY, its frequency and format, which Keith lists as religious.  It is significant to note that Keith, considered by many to be the premier radio scholar in the United States, never mentioned the station or the program Beaker Street in his works on the subjects of all-night radio, and the comprehensive historical study of underground radio programs and stations in the 1960s and 1970s. 

KAAY helped introduce underground radio music and programming to the central portion of the United States and beyond.  Its story has now been told.  The program Beaker Street deserves its rightful place in the era of pioneer underground radio stations of the United States.  And although it has been on several other radio stations—all FM—since its original cancellation in 1977, it is unique in that it is still beaming nights of underground radio programming, which is being provided from Little Rock to the Western Hemisphere, on the airwaves and also via the World Wide Web.

A decade later after the 1977 cancellation of the program, Clyde Clifford and Beaker Street returned to the airwaves on Sunday nights from 7 p.m. until midnight first on KZLR   (KZ-95) and later on Magic 105.1 FM KMJX.  During that time the show was also streamed live via the World Wide Web.  When the format changed on KMJX in February 2008  Beaker Street the last show was broadcast on that station on February 17. Beaker Street moved to a new (and current) home at The Point 94.1 FM on Sunday March 9, 2008, continuing to occupy the 7:00 p.m. to midnight time slot on Sunday evenings. Ironically, the studio of The Point 94.1 FM is located in the same building (2400 Cottondale Lane in Little Rock, Arkansas) where Clyde Clifford broadcast the last hours of rock music programming on KAAY 23 years earlier.  

Despite the different homes for Beaker Street, perhaps appropriately, it never left Little Rock.

And what about the music format in general? As for the underground music format, it migrated from a handful of AM radio stations to the FM band during the 1970s, when Beaker Street was in its heyday.  Underground music became more popularly known as album oriented rock and later modern rock or classic rock.  In some cases, it is simply called rock or active rock (Keith, 2007).  According to Keith, the format continues to do well in the 18-to-34 year-old demographic group, particularly for the males.  But it does not do well in attracting female listeners.   Graham commented, “The classic rock format usually spikes ratings for a radio station pretty well, at least in the beginning.  But it really is a niche format, with limited audience appeal.  The demographic is pretty good for sales though” (Graham, 2008).

Consider this:  In November 1966, eerie music and strange sound effects filled the airwaves of KAAY, AM 1090 in Little Rock.  Over these program elements, a slow deep voice says slowly, “Music of Iron Butterfly.  It’s 12:01 and I’m Clyde Clifford, and this is KAAY, Little Rock, with Beaker Street until 2:00 a.m. this morning, Beaker Theatre at 2:00.”  This was the voice and sounds of underground radio in its infancy, from Little Rock, Arkansas and beyond. 

Today, Beaker Street is still alive and faring well.  The program still airs one night a week and still airs some of the same music today that aired during the 1960s and 1970s, with some newer music of the same caliber mixed in with it.  While updated to some degree, it still airs from Little Rock, and features the same background music and sound effects, as well as the original host, Clyde Clifford (Appendix Z).

 In this context, it is still serving its listeners, some old and some new, as the underground nighttime voice of Arkansas.  Most likely, there are listeners out there who hope it will never be silenced.

As for my point of view, things have changed.  I no longer live in Arkansas.  As a resident of the state of Tennessee and a university teacher, the subject of KAAY has become a focus of my academic research.  It amazes me that now people all over the world can now listen to Beaker Street.  It amazes me even more that it still has an apparent strong following, thanks to the World Wide Web.  When I hear Clyde Clifford over the live stream on Sunday nights over KKPT in Little Rock, both his voice and the music he plays takes me back.  Back to the days when a red-haired, freckle-faced teenage boy in Arkansas used to lie in bed at night, with a flat pillow speaker in bed, listening to Beaker Street through the pillow.  It was different, unique, exciting, and yes, even strange at times.  In a way, it still is. 

Eddie Graham told me that he thought the program was a fluke, that KAAY just got lucky with it.  If so, that fluke initially lasted for 12 years, and over a 10-year hiatus, has now been on one Little Rock station or another for 22 years.  In any media market, that is a phenomenal run.  Obviously, something about Beaker Street is still appealing to listeners.  A survey of both former and current listeners might reveal some interesting reasons why it is still so popular.

For now, Beaker Street and its host continue to give Arkansas and indeed the world a version of undergound music, which was born in 1966.  The legacy of this program is one that will live on, currently over the terrestrial airwaves, via the World Wide Web, and forever in the hearts and minds of faithful fans, who remember and still hunger for Beaker Street as a part of their lives.