WDVH Memories

I consider it an honor to be counted among the alumni of the legendary WDVH. My records (and brain cells) from my tenure at the radio ranch are a little misplaced, but I think I was there from say 1975 to 1977. I started as an ad copy writer and later moved to news with Don Dornberg...learned as much or more about broadcast news with on the job training under Don’s direction than I did in class. Other broadcast mentors and co-“workers” included Jim Williams, Jim Brand, Tom Downey, Wayne Payne, Dale Sizemore, Mitch Miglis, Valerie Woodard, Sean Oneel, Augie Grant, Ferrell Asbell, Steve Sullivan, Baron Hans Fraser, Diddums, and of course George Fogle, Jinx, and Larry Edwards. I thought Jinx pretty much was the GM till one day it became clear that Mr Edwards had the authority to fire me, and he exercised it.

But it was a great privilege to work there, and the bug that bit in Gainesville has never let go. My wife Vickie and I are the directors of a full-time contemporary Christian music ministry (WECC-FM) in St. Marys GA, including ministries for youth and young adults on our “radio ranch” campus here in SE Georgia.

Margo Venning's Memories of WDVH:

Tom Downey brought in copies of Hustler magazine, which contained articles he had written under a pseudonym, and he invited me to read them. I found them quite educational.

Dale Sizemore, Jim Williams, and Bob Cunningham lined up at the reception area’s glass window on the newsroom while I was giving a newscast. They tapped on the window while I was reading a news story, and I looked over to see them acting out “See no evil” (Dale covering his eyes), “Hear no evil” (Jim covering his ears), and “Speak no evil” (Bob covering his mouth). Without reacting to them, during the 30-second commercial break, I stood up and acted out “Do no evil” (covering my crotch), then sat back down to resume my newscast.

In the middle of a newscast on another day, while Jim was the deejay, Diddums the cat jumped up on the console and stood with his little bottom between my face and the microphone. I couldn’t stop to move Diddums, so I had to read the news while my nose was once inch away from his butt hole. Jim laughed so hard that he literally fell on the floor. I tried to suppress my laughter, but evidently didn’t succeed as well as I had hoped since after the newscast, a listener called saying she thought I was crying because the story was about a killing.

I baked Jinx a rectangular birthday cake and decorated it to look like a WDVH check. I wrote her signature in icing at the bottom. She said my forgery was so good that she was going to be watching me closely. (I always thought Jinx was the heart and soul of the station and the one that made us feel like we were a big family.)

I remember Tom Hunt’s tee shirt, which said “Hunt’s ketchup” on the front, and “I’m slow good” on the back.

I remember giggling with Gayle Rajtar about wedding plans when I became engaged and she was a newlywed. (We were 21/22 years old at the time.)

I was thrilled to score a basket against the Harlem Globetrotters while playing for WDVH at the Gainesville Mall. (To this day, I brag about that to the students in my writing classes at the college where I teach.)

I was honored to have photos of me taken at the WDVH news desk and used in the broadcasting textbook that Don Miles wrote and published.

It was a pleasure to work under the guidance of news director Don Dornberg, whom I have remembered fondly over the years with respect and admiration.

Since leaving WDVH in 1983 I worked for WCJB-TV in Gainesville as a reporter/anchor. I then worked at WJXT in Jacksonville for 13 years. In 1997 I began hosting and producing a Gator sports show on the Sunshine Network called "Gator Tales". I also have my own video production company. I mostly produce documentaries for attorneys about their cases. They use these videos to try to settle their cases without going to trial. I have been married to Mark Sieron since 1984. We have a son and daughter. Grant is 12 and Kendall is 8. I miss the good old days at WDVH. I'll never forget going there late at night all by myself after covering school board meetings to file reports for the morning drive newscast. I was always scared and often called the police to come check on me!

I wanted to share a WDVH story that I've kept as a deep secret all of these years! I was a young rookie reporter covering an interesting story about a Gainesville man fighting for the right to use marijuana. There was a hearing at the federal courthouse in Jacksonville on the issue and I had to drive to the big city to cover it. I borrowed my boyfriend's car for the trip. I had to rush back to Gainesville to make my deadline for the 5pm afternoon drive newscast. But when I got just outside Waldo, the car started smoking. I mean smoke bellowing out! I pulled over and looked around at the desolate area and started to panic. They were counting on this report and I had no idea how I would make it back to WDVH in time. Of course this was long before the days of cell phones. I got out of the car in my high heels and best suit and started a slow jog to wherever I could find a phone. The closest place turned out to be the OASIS lounge. I walked in and assessed the situation. The music was blaring, it was smoky and a few patrons were enjoying an afternoon cocktail. I kindly asked the bartender if he would mind turning the music down for just a few minutes while I borrowed the phone. I then filed my report over the phone live from the OASIS lounge, even though I tagged out saying I was in Jacksonville. I figured out a way to make my deadline and no one knew the difference. What a relief that was. I then had my boyfriend's car towed back to Gainesville. It needed a new transmission that cost $1000. He still asked me to marry him!

I grew up in Gainesville, and was bitten by the radio bug at an early age. Along with my friend David Reaves, we made the rounds at the local stations.

Our main interest was programming and engineering. Being a DJ was only a dream because our voices hadn't changed yet. But we hung out, made friends and annoyed people at all the stations.

We were in to the engineering and noticed things like WUWU's muddy sound and the excellent CBS limiters on WGGG. WRUF had an extreme high end boost, which we found out was caused by improperly set EQ switches on the turntable pre-amps.   WDVH had a constant hum, which we figured had to be in the transmitter since it remained at a constant level, unaffected by the
limiter.

Being kids we had a mischievous side as well. I re-adjusted the audio processing on WUWU. David got access to WRUF and had a ball with the processing, especially when he brought an EQ from home and patched it in.

David lived in a house near Archer Road and 13th street. My mom would frequently let me spend the night over there, not realizing that it was essentially unsupervised playtime.

David's family was huge, and he was in a little room at the far end of the house. His parent's weren't paying a lot of attention to what was going on. They had some higher maintenance children, and David was into his radio thing. So we would stay up all night listening to WLS, WCFL, and WABC.
When the skip wasn't happening it was Beatles records 'till dawn.

Our older friends were more dangerous and they had successfully climbed the cable TV tower near Millhopper road. We were inspired by this, especially the part where they left a bag of M+Ms at the tower top for the next climbers.

One night we decided that we would climb the WDVH tower.

There were some logistical problems. I was about 13 years old and David was 14, and so we had no choice but to ride our bicycles to WDVH.

Sometime after 1 AM we set out on our mission. We got all the way through town OK and made it out Hawthorne and down Kincaid road. David and I pulled into the empty WDVH parking lot and hid our bikes.

We made our way out to the tower. I think I remember a security light in the parking lot, but other than that it was moonlight, crickets and tall damp grass leading out to the tower.

Being a bit older, David had no problem hopping the tower-base fence. I was already shaking and remained a few feet back. I'm certain David climbed some distance up the tower. As for me, I was running around in the field in a paranoid filled panic.

I ran out to the road, convinced that a car was coming. There was no car, it was the dead of night !   I thought "for sure" that the engineer was in the building and calling the cops at that instant.

I was about to stain my shorts and I begged David to come down so we could get out of there.

Finally he came down and we headed back up Kincaid road. Now all we had to do was just ride home.   We were passing the school bus lot on Hawthorne Road when a lone car came into view.

It was the cops.

We made a brave effort to act nonchalant, a couple of white kids on bicycles on Hawthorne Road at
4 AM, but it was in vain. They made a U-turn and the blue lights came on.

We gave them some excuse, I don't remember what.

They told us that we were UNDER ARREST and we would be taken to the POLICE STATION and PUT IN JAIL. Yes, they "forgot" a few procedural steps, but the bikes were in the trunk and we were going to 6th street in the back of a police cruiser.

We got to the Gainesville Police station, and after being sufficiently scared they called our parents. My mom came and got me and David's dad came and got him. We got the parental lecture and were in hot water for a week, but we survived. It took a while before I realized that we weren't really
arrested, and my whole life hadn't been blemished.

That was the end of our WDVH adventure and I suppose the morning sign-on DJ was none the wiser.

But... this was a year or two before we discovered just how easy it was to disconnect an AM tower's copper feed line !   So WDVH got off easy.

Well, we grew up and David and I remained in radio, getting real jobs at WGGG, WRUF and WGVL before venturing off separately to bigger markets. We were fortunate enough to each have jobs as Chief Engineers of top rated radio stations in New York and Los Angeles during our careers.

I guess everything turned out alright and Gainesville radio survived our adolescence.

From Don Neel:

Some of the very fondest memories of my misspent youth are of my three separate stints at WDVH. When I was but a wee child it was determined that I would matriculate at the University of Florida, and would ultimately earn a law degree, which would be my ticket to the bench, the legislature, the senate, the White House, and of course, eventual summary impeachment. This was not to be. . . Thank God.

In March 1976 I was a freshman, and had already been doing part time shifts in Starke for 3 years. I wanted to work in Gainesville radio in the worst way, and flooded WGGG, WGVL and WDVH with tapes, and a very short resume. I was given cold coffee by the rock stations, but Jim Williams heard something in my WPXE (now WEAG) aircheck which the others did not, and so I began the WDVH experience on April 4, 1976.

Although I worked a variety of weekend shifts in the early days, the first shift I remember was a Saturday sign-on - 6-10am. I had probably been around for a couple of weeks. On this particular morning another "Ranch Hand" stuck his head into the control room during the 9:00 hour. I nodded a greeting to a very short, bald, goateed fellow who'd been introduced to me as Jim Brand. He stood near the door leading to the transmitter room - coffee in one hand, Benson & Hedges cigarette in the other. He just nodded, and looked...sipping and smoking. I finished my spot break, fired a jingle and then a record, and removed my headphones to properly say hello. Before I had a chance to open my mouth, Jim said; "Y'know -- you are gonna be a helluva disk jockey..."

Those words effected me profoundly, and that was all it took for me to decide that what had previously been more a hobby and a way to make a few extra bucks was going to be my career. To this day, JB remains my closest contact from the old days, and became my inspiration to be a mentor to any promising young radio talent. Whether I lived up to what JB and Jim Williams heard in those early days remains to be seen, but it has been fun so far.

I was either a party or a witness to some fairly auspicious WDVH moments - some of them hilarious, others, not so much fun, but still vital to the legacy of the station. One such moment was the untimely passing of Diddums.

It was on a Sunday morning in late 1978. I was on my third stint at "The Ranch", and was by that time Program Director. Kelly (Godwin) Wynn and I were engaged, and she was working part time at the station. Since she had not yet passed the element 9 for Broadcast Endorsement, Kelly was (under the FCC rules of the day) not permitted to read the transmitter and sign the log. I was more than happy to take care of the operator duties - those Sunday mornings gave me the opportunity to work on music and any number of other administrative tasks.

On this particular Sunday, the usually well behaved Diddums was simply running amok - I don't know what had gotten into him, but at one point he climbed into the back of the big, antique green radio in the front lobby. I fished him out, and he slinked off into more mischief. About 10 minutes passed, and as I was typing away, the on-air monitor housed in the green radio went dead. I heard noise coming from the radio, but no signal. I got up and dashed across the lobby, and could see Kelly through the plate glass window - gesticulating and cursing, not knowing what was going on. I stuck my head into the control room and asked if the program was still on, she said "yes," so, I instinctively hit the "plate" lever on "BIG MAC." As I tapped that lever, I heard a familiar, yet uncharacteristically plaintive "meow."

As my heart began to sink, I fired up the then new RCA Ampliphase Transmitter, and switched the router over, getting us back on the air as soon as possible. I knew that poor Diddums was somewhere within the high-voltage maw of that beast we called Big Mac, and that I had to begin the grim search. Kelly was crying and generally freaking out, and I was quite upset myself, but had collected myself enough to shut down what I thought was the main breaker to the stately, old Gates. I began to tentatively open a seemingly endless series of compartment doors, when finally I saw those two little, grey feet - the worse for wear having touched a big, copper strap resting on a ceramic insulator. I instinctively reached for the discharge rod to try and drain any charged capacitors BEFORE retrieving the kitty. My payback was a huge spark. Something told me to try again - and again there were more fireworks. A third touch, another fireball, and I told myself that the $200 a week I was earning was NOT worth enough to meet Diddums on the "other side." THIS was a job for "The Old Man." I called George Fogle, and he somehow managed to recover Diddums WITHOUT getting fried.

The following day was awkward indeed. There was a funerary atmosphere throughout the station, for Diddums was as beloved as any of the two legged critters who had ever darkened the 'DVH door. Kelly always felt to blame for Diddums' demise, but it was really nobody's fault - he was simply being rambunctious that day. But, if there is any blame to be laid, it falls on my shoulders since I was the "operator on duty."

During the course of the last 27 years I have worked for a number of stations - some in small markets, but for the most part in this mega-market called Houston, Texas, where I have made my home during the last 21 years. Some of these stations have been great...some have been terrible. Out of all of them WDVH STILL holds up as a GREAT station, and it is all because of the people. Managers who believed in coaching the young...support people who interacted with on-air staffers in a (relatively) ego-free environment, and a general family atmosphere. The kids I meet today are forced to cut their teeth in bigger markets. Thanks to the satellite there are very few small market jobs. The rare small market station which does employ it's own air staff is still a totally different breed than what we enjoyed on Kincaid Road. Radio is no longer about audience entertainment, or ratings, or ad revenue. Radio stations are now simply fodder for fatter stock portfolios, and we are the poorer for it.

We are, however, richer for having the WDVH call letters on our respective resumes. Cherish your great memories of "The Ranch." Like Beatlemania, black and white TV, Coca-Cola in six and a half ounce deposit bottles, and making homemade ice cream on Granny's front porch in the summer, WDVH is a relic of a kinder, gentler time.

I am proud to have been a member of the 980 Family - and prouder still that I will ALWAYS be!

Memory is hazy, but there were some country entertainers around here back there in the late fifties when I came out of the Navy, and began working in radio at WRUF. One of them was Peewee Jenkins, who used to sit, pick and sing on WRUF during the noon hour, as I recall. Another country entertainer was Toby Dowdy, who had a band that played around here, and on WJXT TV in Jacksonville. Dowdy is the "D" in WDVH (Toby Dowdy, R.A. "Buster" Vaughn, and Thomas R. "Tom" Hanssen).

I am unsure about just how Smilin' Jack Herring fit into the picture, but I suspect he was there before I arrived on the scene in the summer of '59. I have some recollection of his being involved in something like a seafood market on N.W. 8th Avenue (?) I just can't re-call exactly. Still, when I saw the link, I knew immediately who he was, and recognized the photos of him and Peewee. Jenkins was quite short...under five feet, I believe...but he had a rich country singing voice. I suppose Michael would agree that his dad was pretty much "rock-a-billy" in
terms of music style.

The microphone looks familiar, and the board, too. (in the picture of Smilin' Jack Herring at the WDVH console from the Herring site that is linked on the WDVH.ORG page). There was an identical mike on a desk stand that I used in the news studio all those years. That mike was stolen in the break-in by former announcer Johnny Underwood, whom I was in school with as a boy. He had gone to work for a Jacksonville Beach radio station. They needed equipment to outfit a remote broadcast trailer. He knew about getting into the station by removing jalousie panes from a window back by the transmitter.

We did not have any serial numbers recorded, but when one of the culprits confessed to a priest, and (turned himself in?), Jacksonville detectives were able to suspect that our equipment was what they found in that studio trailer. I had to go with an officer from Alachua S.O. to Jacksonville Beach to identify the equipment (they took cartridges, machines...microphones...all kinds of stuff! Then, I had to testify in the trial proceedings. Underwood went to prison for several years.

It was in the Tom Hanssen era. Gene Bowen was the sign-on D.J., Everette Flagg mid-day, and Bob Novogorsky air-name Bob Norris was there along in that time frame, too. (Now watch me have that messed up), but Norris & Flagg were a couple of pros that Tom relented and hired in to give the station a saleable sound.

Gene Bowen was our morning man. I was News Director, and doing sales as well. Mark Fowler, a law school student was the Program Director, doing noon to three. When he signed off his shift, he had to hustle to be across town and in class by 3:30.

In typical college exhuberance, Mark would drive his little VW Bug right up onto the front lawn, and park it where there were only a few steps into the front door.

Gene Bowen beckoned to me one day to come help him. We put the car out of gear and pushed it so that the back bumper was centered against a tree. Then we lifted the front of that litttle car and swung it around so that the vehicle was effectively "wedged" between two trees, with no way to pull forward, or back up sufficiently to extricate it.

Here's the clincher: Mark went bursting out the front door to find that scene, and said something to the effect that we had to help him move it so he could go to class. Gene and I pretended to lift, and Mark swung that car around enough to drive it out of there!! He was a lot stronger than he knew.

A further note: Gene Bowen, who married June Jeffords, of Fairbanks, used to over-sleep. This is a bad trait for a Sign-on shift. I frequently had to go and pound on his door to get him on his way. We'd be on the air late, of course. There were times when I had to go on into the station and sign on while he was enroute, then be there for sign-off that night. That was the only time I was glad we were a daytime operation.

I still can't believe Tom Hanssen actually thought we didn't need to invest in FM! I tried listening to a football game on WRUF AM as I drove home from church this evening, and had reception difficulties within spittin' distance of their transmitter. (Only slight exaggeration.)

Another thing I shall never forget is when the tower toppled into the field behind the station. George Fogle loaded that barbed wire fence, and we were able to get out about three miles with no stick.

Then there was the fire in the transmitter room. Some electrical short circuit had a blaze down in the cable trough coming in the floor from the Onan Emergency Generator to the transmitter. We had no fire extinguisher. I decided it might not be a good idea to play the garden hose in there, so I grabbed a shovel and threw dirt in there to put it out. George and Tom were not happy one bit. I told them I'd just let it burn next time. When the station did burn, I was nowhere around!

I also recall a non-news story. We did not have scanners back then, but somehow, I got wind of a story about this big bird making off with a baby out at Grove Park. Here goes Ferrell, in the VW Van, Marti unit blazing away with reports of the amazing occurence. On the scene with sheriff's deputies, I was to learn that they found the child crawling around in dog fennels out back. The mother made the story up because she had been "involved" with her boyfriend, then discovered the child
missing.

My memory was jogged thinking about all the old watering holes in Gainesville. One of the most memorable incidents took place at Art's. Art was testing a "home style" menu of favorites. Things like beef tips and rice, country style steak, and so forth. In addition, he offered a choice of 15 different vegetables. Ferrell suggested that Art get Wayne and me to do a test. On the given night, we went out there and were treated to all of the entrees and all fifteen vegetables. Wayne said "why don't we have a bloody Mary to go along with all this chow." When the drinks arrived, Wayne was not a happy camper. He told the waiter to tell the bartender to make the next one "hotter." Twenty minutes later when we ordered our second, the results were the same...a mild bloody Mary. WP threw caution to the wind and told our waiter that if he couldn't get the order right, that he (Wayne) would go back to the bar. The waiter returned with two more pale bloody Mary's. Wayne grabbed the glass and took a gulp. Then with steam coming out of his ears, he said, "just right...but drink it slowly." There was no tomato juice, only Tabasco sauce and vodka. Bottom line...we ate all the food and drank the entire Tabasco Mary.

Jim Williams became the Boogieman because he tended to spend every waking hour at the radio ranch "fixing." Except for that little caper when he 409'd the transmitter, it was beneficial! I got the name "dancin' bear" from Wayne Payne. Early in the morning in the newsroom I would occasionally do a little two step with Baron Hans, Wayne's weimeraner. Apparently I resembled the character on Captain Kangaroo.

Back in the production room, one afternoon, His Boogie-ness once compared soft-core porno magazines to potato chips. "You open the bag and eat them, they taste good and you eat and eat and eat more; but they never quite satisfy you. So, you go out and buy more."

Three of us mooned Don while he was doing the news one day. But, it was not the antics of three assholes (literally) trying to break him up that did him in. It was Jamea's disdainful look, walking in the studio as our pants were down, that did it. And, somewhere there is a plaque dedicated to Don with the remains of a three-wood.