05/20/2024
It was 1966 when I first met him. Interesting guy, all of a teenager still but he was a giant of a man to me. He had this magnificent voice and the ability to tell a story (even when he wasn't supposed to.)
He and I worked at a small local radio station and the ownership preferred "Time & Temperature" to anything that might draw any criticism or critique. They also preferred an MOR format, which stands for middle of the road. THEIR concept of middle of the road was not mine, or his, but we played what they said (mostly) because they were paying us this HUGE sum of $1.35 an hour to sit on our behinds and play music. Both of us thought that was the best deal since sliced bread.
He taught me how to run the confusing board, network joins, how to rip n' read the news, how to play commercials on a reel to reel tape deck because we didn't have an cart machines yet. Actually, he even taught me how to paint the outside of the building while I was on the air inside the building - between records.
We had another name for the thing. We called it "Music to Milk Cows by from the Shack out Back." That's because the studio and the tower were smack in the middle of a cow pasture until it burned to the ground in 1983. I was there for that as well. Crazy.
Amazing.
He took me on my first "remote" at the new S&H Green Stamp store downtown. He told me things I'd only heard about from my peers (I was all of 12 at the time) and frankly, my peers had most of it wrong lol.
His name was Bill Midkiff, and I learned a short time ago that he passed away. It made me very sad and it took some time for me to think it through and write this down.
Cox told me. Chip and I also worked there later on in the early 70's.
I was reminded yesterday, that I might have been one of the very few 12 year olds who had a PASSION for a JOB. I was talking to my now 17 year old grandson who will be a Senior next fall, as he was looking for a job. I explained to him that he probably wasn't passionate about working at the Pizza Hut, but a job is a job at 17 and lacking said passion really wasn't a deterrent to actually working. Lots of folks have no passion for what they do, that's why it's called a job.
I was lucky. I met Bill and the rest is history.
Bill was from Florida originally and how he found his way to me was a roundabout. Back in the day, we (the broadcasting business) had a magazine that advertised jobs all over the country. He saw the one and applied, and there we were.
Stuck in a Cow Pasture playing Red Sovine music.
It got better eventually, and truth is I loved my time there, very much. I made a lot of lifelong friends, but mostly I learned who I really was. I spent my teens learning how to pronounce big words about far away places because I had to read about them on air, LIVE, in the news. It seemed so much more important than a keg party at the beach.
I followed the radio trail for a lot of years, town to town, up and down the dial. Then it was Television, then Newspapers, and finally into my own business.
There are days when I truly wish that I was still making $1.35 an hour back at that little station that isn't even there anymore....just like so many of it's kind all across the country, replaced by the internet.
I wish Bill had never left there either. Working with him was a highlight of my life and I admired greatly that he found the time to help a snot nosed kid who thought he was way smarter than he really was, the inside out of radio.
May God be with you William. Your friends miss you.
