This weekend 101 welcomes Tonya Stoutt-Brown as an ace 101 contributor. Great hearing from you Tonya, keep the photographs and memories coming...
Sorry to hear about all the CP and Walker controversy. What makes this blog so much fun is the wide variety of memories old jocks are sharing. It’s not meant to be an opinion blog or a blog for fans, but a “scrapbook” blog. Thanks for the great trips down memory lane and, for me, a young sprig of a girl, some wonderful history lessons about the people I listened to as a kid who gave me that insane idea to get a job in radio. It was one of the best ideas that ever crossed the threshold of my brain.
My First Encounter with the Legendary Bobby Denton!
I was hired by Mike Hammond to handle a weekend shift on WIVK-AM, which had a country format. I had only been working there a few weeks when I got a chance to work the weekend overnight shift on the FM. I was pumped about it! Paul Maner was working the 7-midnight weekend shift and stuck around to “help” me.
We were young, inexperienced, and stupid. I made the mistake of opening the mic that was usually reserved for Claude Tomlinson (insert sounds of angelic choir and visions of heavenly sunlight here) and Paul and I began to engage in playful banter on the air. We had ourselves a two-person show going in the middle of the night. And boy, it was fun!
Remember when you started out in radio and you thought you were the greatest thing since permanent press pants? That’s where we were in our young lives. We probably sounded about as professional as a couple of drunk 14-year-olds talking on a party line in Vonore.
About 2:00 in the morning, we were in the middle of some of that witty repartee when I suddenly saw Paul’s face fall. He was sitting across from me, so he could see behind me, through the glass window into the newsroom. I could tell by the look on his face that something was very wrong in that room behind my back, but I didn’t know what. Paul shut up, quit talking and sat stone-faced though the remainder of the break.
Since Paul had quit talking, I ended the break and went into a song (don’t remember which one, but I’m sure it had something to do with drinkin’ and cheatin’ or trucks). I took off the headphones, turned around, and through the glass window I saw a terrifying sight. Bobby Denton, clad in his full dress suit, hair perfectly coiffed, cigar dangling from his mouth, smoke curling up around his head like a halo of doom.
I rolled my eyes around and said, “Who’s that?”
In a very, very small voice, Paul said, “That’s the General Manager.”
I remember thinking that we must be in a lot of trouble if the General Manager had gotten out of bed and got dressed to come to Bearden Hill and chew us out. It never crossed my mind that he hadn’t been home.
That was my first encounter with the legendary Bobby Denton. It was not a pleasant one.
Paul and I had to sit on donut shaped cushions for awhile after that (figuratively speaking, of course). Anyone who knows Bobby is aware of the fact that he can have a temper, but it’s a quick one and he’s good to forgive and forget if you can earn his respect. I ended up working there for 14 years, but I was never invited to work the overnight shift, again. Ever.
Sorry to hear about all the CP and Walker controversy. What makes this blog so much fun is the wide variety of memories old jocks are sharing. It’s not meant to be an opinion blog or a blog for fans, but a “scrapbook” blog. Thanks for the great trips down memory lane and, for me, a young sprig of a girl, some wonderful history lessons about the people I listened to as a kid who gave me that insane idea to get a job in radio. It was one of the best ideas that ever crossed the threshold of my brain.
My First Encounter with the Legendary Bobby Denton!
I was hired by Mike Hammond to handle a weekend shift on WIVK-AM, which had a country format. I had only been working there a few weeks when I got a chance to work the weekend overnight shift on the FM. I was pumped about it! Paul Maner was working the 7-midnight weekend shift and stuck around to “help” me.
We were young, inexperienced, and stupid. I made the mistake of opening the mic that was usually reserved for Claude Tomlinson (insert sounds of angelic choir and visions of heavenly sunlight here) and Paul and I began to engage in playful banter on the air. We had ourselves a two-person show going in the middle of the night. And boy, it was fun!
Remember when you started out in radio and you thought you were the greatest thing since permanent press pants? That’s where we were in our young lives. We probably sounded about as professional as a couple of drunk 14-year-olds talking on a party line in Vonore.
About 2:00 in the morning, we were in the middle of some of that witty repartee when I suddenly saw Paul’s face fall. He was sitting across from me, so he could see behind me, through the glass window into the newsroom. I could tell by the look on his face that something was very wrong in that room behind my back, but I didn’t know what. Paul shut up, quit talking and sat stone-faced though the remainder of the break.
Since Paul had quit talking, I ended the break and went into a song (don’t remember which one, but I’m sure it had something to do with drinkin’ and cheatin’ or trucks). I took off the headphones, turned around, and through the glass window I saw a terrifying sight. Bobby Denton, clad in his full dress suit, hair perfectly coiffed, cigar dangling from his mouth, smoke curling up around his head like a halo of doom.
I rolled my eyes around and said, “Who’s that?”
In a very, very small voice, Paul said, “That’s the General Manager.”
I remember thinking that we must be in a lot of trouble if the General Manager had gotten out of bed and got dressed to come to Bearden Hill and chew us out. It never crossed my mind that he hadn’t been home.
That was my first encounter with the legendary Bobby Denton. It was not a pleasant one.
Paul and I had to sit on donut shaped cushions for awhile after that (figuratively speaking, of course). Anyone who knows Bobby is aware of the fact that he can have a temper, but it’s a quick one and he’s good to forgive and forget if you can earn his respect. I ended up working there for 14 years, but I was never invited to work the overnight shift, again. Ever.