When I was a young girl, our family's entertainment medium was the
radio. Dad favored those Saturday forays into the world of opera, with
Texaco's Metropolitan Opera broadcasts. I can still see the Bakelite
table radio that sat in our kitchen and vividly recall the time I
"accidentally" dropped it, trying to see the little performers inside.
Imagine my disappointment in discovering only crystal tubes.
For Grandpa McCafferty, radio was a way of connecting with those boxing
matches broadcast from Madison Square Garden on Friday nights, where
fighters named Jersey Joe Walcott or Sugar Ray Robinson duked it out.
Grandma was content, as was I when I visited, to hear the latest episode
of "Fibber Magee and Molly," emanating from a grand RCA Victor floor
console.
We were the last on our block to own a television and, even then, it was
acquired by somewhat unusual circumstances. We paid for it through a
meter attached to the back of the set in which quarters were deposited
(one quarter netted one hour of viewing pleasure). Frantic searches for
more coins would ensue as the screen--invariably--went dark just before
knowing the ending of the latest "Playhouse 90" drama. Unlike
television, in our house radio was dependable.
My mother's radio tale from her Depression-era childhood was always
certain to bring a laugh. As a participant in a local talent show, she
would recount tap dancing on the radio for an unseen audience. Perhaps
not all that strange. While researching this piece, I came upon mention
of a story in the New York Times on Feb. 3, 1924, announcing that some
20 radio stations were broadcasting weekly dance lessons. The instructor
was quoted as saying, "This method of teaching has one advantage in that
nobody can laugh at you when you stumble."
That sense of invisibility is radio's allure, still today.
There's nothing more vivid than your own imagination," says Sue Kopen
'76. The former radio news anchor and reporter at WBAL News in Baltimore
is now the director of Broadcast News in the College of Journalism.
"Ideally, radio gives you that chance to draw your own pictures and
there's nothing like it as far as I'm concerned. In radio, if you use
proper sound, you are put in that location. That's the fun of radio;
that's the art."
Now, however, Kopen is focusing her attention on using the university's
cable outlet, UMTV, to give students the experience they will need in
tomorrow's media market. She's teaching the first course required of
broadcast majors and "Advanced Television Reporting and Production," in
which the students have to produce two-minute news segments that will
air throughout the day.
From Fireside Chats To Martian Invasions
In this election year, Kopen suggests an experiment. The next time
there's a presidential debate, don't watch it; instead, listen to it.
"Radio is a whole different ballgame. You don't have to be bothered
about the makeup, the sweats, the body language. You can truly focus on
the content. And, you'll realize how little content there is."
President Clinton airs a weekly radio address, but who is listening?
That wasn't the case when President Franklin D. Roosevelt used the
power of the radio to deliver his series of "Fireside Chats," to the
American public. Over an 11-year span, he shared with listeners the
nation's and the world's crises and victories, all delivered with a
calming reassurance that we would get through this, together.
FDR's first message, on the banking crisis, was given on Sunday, March
12, 1933, to a nation on the brink of the Great Depression. He began
simply and directly, with this statement: "I want to talk for a few
minutes with the people of the United States about banking--with the
comparatively few who understand the mechanics of banking but more
particularly with the overwhelming majority who use banks for the making
of deposits and the drawing of checks." It is estimated that 60 million
Americans listened to his words.
The power of radio took an unexpected turn five years later, when Orson
Welles and his Mercury Theater of the Air players, presented a Halloween
eve broadcast on Oct. 30, 1938. The program began with the announcer
stating that this evening's performance would be an adaptation of H.G.
Wells' science fiction novel The War of the Worlds, about a Martian
invasion of Earth.
Orson Welles, regarded as a theatrical genius, employed the techniques
that radio does best. His adaptation made the program sound like a news
broadcast about an invasion from Mars. Using sound effects and actors
portraying news reporters, he captured the imagination and fears of the
listening audience--enough so that newspapers reported how those in the
audience believed it to be a news account of an actual invasion.
Wrote New York Tribune columnist Dorothy Thompson of Welles' production:
"They have proved that a few effective voices, accompanied by sound
effects, can convince masses of people of a totally unreasonable,
completely fantastic proposition as to create a nationwide panic."
So, is radio a relic of the past? "In the conventional form that you
think of radio: 'Yes!'" Kopen pauses for emphasis. "Is that good or bad?
That depends. If you're a radio purist, it's disheartening, but all
things change. Certainly, from a news standpoint...the overall product
is greatly limited by the change in radio." She's referring to the
narrowing of outlets available, the result of mega mergers and the
demise, in 1980, of required public service by stations.
"Programming formats remain diverse but so many of these stations in
markets like Baltimore and Washington are owned by one or two companies.
You can own multiple stations in the same market. It's like newspaper
ownership. How different an editorial voice are you going to find where
one or two companies dominate? It's the same thing with radio."
Kopen says that she worked at one of the last great bastions of
news--WBAL Radio. "They're the only game in [Baltimore] for radio news.
That's it. There's nobody else doing it. The other stations may do some
headlines or pretend to do news, but frankly they don't subscribe to a
news service; they rewrite strictly out of the newspaper. There's no
initiative to go out and get a story. There's no digging, no attempt to
do much more than a cursory coverage of the news. WBAL still takes the
initiative to break stories."
When Kopen started in broadcast news in 1975 she was still in college--a
senior--and working at Metromedia-owned WCBM. "There must have been
seven, eight, nine different radio reporters on the street," says Kopen,
and all were competing for stories.
"Washington fares only slightly better, with WTOP and WMAL. But, again,
I remember a time when you had three all-news stations: WTOP, WRC and
WAVA in Virginia. Each doing a little different take on it, but still,
considerable news." Additionally, she recalls that most of the music
stations had news department hustling to beat the competition.
Now, explains Kopen, that role has been usurped by news outlets like
Metro Networks and ShadowNews. "Marketing themselves as a unique
commodity for any particular radio station," says Kopen,"sometimes one
newsperson does the news on four different stations in a market. They
may use a different name on each of those stations."
These news services rely on young talent who sit at a desk and rewrite
the local newspaper, says Kopen. "On a rare occasion they may go out to
get a couple of sound bytes on something. They have no wire service to
keep up with what's going on. Sometimes they join partnerships with TV
stations and will be able to get scripts from them. Many times they
don't. So they can't be as current; they just can't."
Kopen then remembers that ShadowNews and MetroNetworks are now one and
the same, and both are owned by CBS/Infinity Broadcasting. "You need a
scorecard to keep up with what's going on." These mergers also mean a
loss of entry-level job, she laments.
A Driving Presence
If the names David Brancaccio, Bob Edwards and Cokie Roberts make you
immediately hear voices--their distinctive ones-- then you, too, can
consider yourself a public radio news junkie. I admit it: A drive to and
from College Park along I-95 just won't cut it without the sounds of
"Morning Edition" heading in or "All Things Considered" and
"Marketplace" heading home. On Saturdays, the public radio line-up of
voices takes an irreverent turn. For starters, consider those "Car Talk"
guys or PRI's host of "Whad'Ya Know," Michael Feldman. Garrison Keillor
has been telling tales for 25 years of the folks who live in Lake
Wobegon on his longstanding "A Prairie Home Companion."
Radio has always been about niche programming, says Kopen. "You carve
out that piece and you win that. Public radio tends to appeal to a
better educated, higher income (not necessarily in every case) market.
It is not an age-specific market, such as you will find with commercial
radio stations."
Max Cacas '77 is another Maryland graduate who got his start at WMUC.
After many years at National Public Radio, Cacas is currently Web page
writer for the Freedom Forum, a nonpartisan, international foundation
dedicated to free press, free speech and free spirit for all people.
Says Cacas: "When the Gingrich Congress tried to cut public radio-TV
funding altogether, there was a rather strong public outcry that led to
development instead of a more stable funding formula for public
broadcasting, in general, and an actual increase in yearly funding to
public radio and television." The difference, he explains, is that none
of the money goes directly to the public radio organizations. Instead,
federal funds go to the individual stations, which must then buy their
programming and run their stations from this source, supplemented by
fundraising drives.
Kopen says radio talk shows of a conservative bent often speak of public
radio stations in disparaging terms. "It really does come down to your
politics. Where do you get a balanced picture? I'm not sure, to be
truthful. You've got to take the news context out of the programming
context. News presentation should remain above that fray and should be
politically neutral."
Kopen suggests a call to Jay Kernis '74, a former classmate at Maryland
who is now a producer for CBS News "60 Minutes," but was responsible for
putting "Morning Edition" on the air. Kopen says he's so devoted to NPR
that his e-mail address at CBS is npr@cbsnews.com.
Sure enough, it is. "When I got to CBS in 1987," says Kernis--"remember
this was before the Internet--we had an in-house communication system and
I had to choose three initials. Mine were taken. I had just been a week
out of NPR and was very loyal to it, so I thought, why don't I just call
myself 'npr.'" Thirteen years later, it remains his moniker. "I'm still
very devoted to radio," says Kernis, who is equally connected to his
alma mater. Recently, he spoke with a group of College Park Scholars
enrolled in the new "Media, Society and Culture" program at Maryland.
Steve Barkin, program director and associate professor of journalism,
took the 20 students to New York to see firsthand Kernis'
behind-the-scenes work at CBS News. His producing credits include "CBS
This Morning," and "Eye to Eye with Connie Chung" (another Maryland
graduate). Kernis also produced "Smithsonian Minutes," for the 150th
anniversary of the Smithsonian Institution. Four years ago, he joined
"60 Minutes," first as Lesley Stahl's producer and now as a producer for
Mike Wallace.
Kernis got an even earlier start in broadcasting than Kopen. While still
in high school, he began working at WRVR, a public radio station in New
York. "When I graduated Maryland, I really didn't have the 'big radio
voice' but I did have this experience at a public radio station. So, in
1974 I went to work for National Public Radio." Beginning in the on-air
promotions department, he soon was producing a weekly arts magazine
called "Voices in the Wind," which led to his role in creating "Morning
Edition."
"It's a famous NPR story. I was the senior arts producer--third in
line--but basically the creator of the format." He says that two
producers and one of the two hosts were brought in from commercial
broadcasting to get the show on the air. "Ten days before air, those
people were let go. Stations had listened to the pilots and it didn't
sound like a public radio show. Then I was chosen to recreate the show
as we had designed it," says Kernis, who tapped Bob Edwards as host.
Edwards was known already to NPR listeners as the host of "All Things
Considered." Before leaving NPR Kernis also produced "Weekend Edition,"
with Scott Simon, followed by developing "Weekend Edition Sunday," with
Susan Stamberg.
Kernis is more sanguine than Kopen about the future of public radio. He
says when he left in 1987 there were about 200 public radio stations.
Today, more than 600 public radio stations are on the air. "I don't
worry about the decrease in federal funding, because the audience has
really taken up the cause," says Kernis. "A huge national audience, plus
corporate underwriters who fully realize the value of that audience,
have made it possible for not only public radio to survive, but to
thrive. Public radio is very responsive to the needs of an audience. So
as long as public radio stations manage to do that, public radio is in
very good shape."
Suddenly, What's Old Is New Again
During a recent visit to a Baltimore friend who is retired and living
in Tampa, Fla., I learned that he keeps tabs on his favorite radio
station, which happens to be WBAL, via his computer. His personal
favorites: "The Ron Smith Show" and Orioles baseball. In Baltimore,
they're broadcast on the AM dial. Kopen explains that an individual
station in a given marketplace does nothing but use its tower to radiate
out its signal. At night, because of the way the signal changes, a
50,000-watt station like WBAL can have a range as far as Nova Scotia to
the north and Bermuda to the south. However, once radio programming is
placed on the Internet, signal strength for an AM station becomes
meaningless. "It's there for the taking," says Kopen, "no matter where
you are in the world."
Doesn't this world-wide presence mark a resurgence of radio? Yes and no,
Kopen explains. The difficulty comes in measuring that reach
quantitatively. Commercial radio stations are dependent on advertising
revenue. For now, there is no way to translate Internet audiences to the
Arbitron book that determines the rate advertisers must pay, based upon
the number of listeners.
Even though it can't translate into ad revenue for now, radio stations
are using that reach. Kopen mentions her former employer as an example.
"A station like 'BAL puts as much emphasis now on its Internet site as
they do on the air because you can bring the station up at work while
you're on your PC."
The future of Webcasting, as this new phenomenon is known, is still up
for grabs. Kopen doesn't believe that existing outlets will opt for it
exclusively, but she does see the possibility of a new breed of animal
existing solely on the Web. "There are no limits on the Web. There's no
censorship to speak of. There's no accountability for what you put on
the air. If you're FCC-licensed, it's a whole different matter."
Already, abcnews.com is producing shows from its TV side that are seen
exclusively on the Web, says Kopen, who is taking her broadcast
journalism students to the Washington bureau to see such programming in
action. She cautions that, at the moment, the concept lacks
sophistication.
Kernis, too, doesn't deny that big challenges are ahead for all of
radio, perhaps top on the list being whether the need exists for single
radio stations. "The answer may be 'yes' for local information and news,
but we're at the precipice here. We are at the threshold of a grand new
technology, meaning the Internet, and radio signals are streaming by the
thousands. So if you're in Washington, D.C., and want to listen to WAMU
or WETA you can do that, but you can also listen to KCRW in Santa
Monica. And that is going to be the next big challenge."
Catching The Next Waves
"I hate to put it this way, but not a lot of people use telegraphs
anymore," says Kernis. "And at one time telegraphy was a miracle; it was
almost magic. Well, the technology changes and the message has to change
accordingly. So the message is: How will radio adapt to the Internet and
what will radio stations do?"
Presently, Kernis says public radio is getting into direct satellite
broadcasting and the Internet. "But it's not going to be easy, because
you have 600 stations that are worried about their future."
He sees the next several years as a time of creativity, fighting and
sorting out. "What it will come down to--and this is what radio does
best--is who will inform the best, who will entertain the best, who will
validate my life and give it meaning. That's one thing radio does very
well. You can tune into any kind of signal and there will be somebody
there who validates your life or your thoughts. If you believe in very
conservative ideas and listen to the radio, there is someone who will
say to you: 'Hey, your thinking is right; it's absolutely right.'"
Kernis also looks at what it will mean to his present job in television.
"You sit here and you think, well people have wanted "60 Minutes" for 33
years, will they keep wanting it? A certain generation may keep wanting
it--God hopes they keep wanting it-- but you may have a generation that
wants it but not at 7 o'clock on Sunday evenings. Now, [with the Web]
you can have it whenever you want it." Suddenly, the picture changes.
"If you don't have a mass audience and you're not selling that mass
audience to advertisers, can you afford to do this kind of show?" asks
Kernis. Maybe this show and others will have to change how they do
things in order to survive the different markets."
Kopen sees this phenomenon firsthand. Her broadcast students don't think
of radio as an information medium even though it really is. "When it
snows, where do you go to find out if school's canceled? I rest my
case," says Kopen. "A few may go to the Internet, but, chances are, the
radio's on at 5:30 in the morning."
The AM side of radio has long been devoted to news and information. FM,
which had been almost exclusively music, now includes talk radio geared
to a younger demographic audience. "The theory," says Kopen," is the
younger generation doesn't even know AM exists. So, right off the bat,
if you want to capture a talk audience with younger demographics, you go
to the FM side, which is the one place they do turn." Nationally, think
Howard Stern or, locally, 98 Rock's "The Morning Show" with Bob Lopez
'75, --yet another Maryland alumnus--as well as Kirk McEwen, a former
student at Maryland.
"You have to broaden the scope of the journalism student coming in
today. It's not enough to be just a print reporter, or just a broadcast
writer or a photographer, or online editor. You have got to wrap all
those skills together now. [Media outlets today] use video, they use
audio. You have to learn how to write tight. To a large extent, it's
much more broadcast style than it is print style. But good journalism
remains good journalism regardless of the form it takes. Students will
not be able to survive if they come in here with tunnel vision," says
Kopen. She cautions her students that already a number of big papers
have their reporters debriefing on-camera for a cable outlet or--in some
cases--they have to shoot a TV story.
Kopen recalls the "Saturday Night Live"skit with Al Franken out in the
desert with a satellite dish and a telephone."Well, we're there!"
Still, radio is the medium of choice for many of us. Consider this
scenario. You're snaking your way along in a major traffic snarl as you
wait to cross the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and the beach that beckons
beyond.
The saving grace: The O's are playing at home and you are listening to
Jim Hunter's vivid play-by-play description of yet another Cal Ripken
homer--the Iron Man's quest for baseball greatness not yet over.
Ever notice how many fans in the stands can be seen with radios tuned to
the game even though they are witness to the action firsthand? Let's
face it; listening to the color announcers for the Orioles or the
Yankees give fans (or foes) the chance to conjure images that ring as
true for those tuning into the broadcast as those in the upper deck of
Oriole Park at Camden Yards.
Now, if only they could get the smell of ballpark franks on those radio
waves.
Wmuc: Airwaves And Always
To Sue Kopen '76, WMUC remains a part of her life, even though the last
time she did an on-air stint was in 1976. "We were strictly a carrier
current, which means if you had your braces on and were in the right
location on a parking lot," you might catch it. There were transmitters
in the dorms through which the signal would get piped into the system,
plugged into the electrical outlet. There was no FM side in those days,
but, says Kopen, "We were pretty damn good. Most of our people were
professional--then and now. Some of the people who were my mentors are
still working and doing it well."
She ticks off a few names, from her era. Jay Kernis '74, currently a
producer for CBS's "60 Minutes," Dennis Dunlavey '74 and Peter Doherty
'75, both senior producers for ABC News in Washington, D.C. Anne Edwards
'72, who has been a longstanding White House public information
officer as well as a news editor at CBS. While all cut their teeth at
the University of Maryland's radio station and some began careers in
radio, today they are all connected with TV news. Kopen is hard pressed
to think of anyone, other than herself, still doing radio news.
Jay Kernis echoes Kopen's fond memories of Maryland, and WMUC in
particular, where he was program director his junior and senior year.
Although he has been New York-based for the past 13 years, he remains in
touch with fellow broadcasting alumni, some of whom have remained in
radio.
Kernis says classmate Dave Brown ran WWDC for 20 years and is now news
anchor for Shadow Metro Network and WTOP. Mike Collins '74, spent many
years in commercial radio in Charlotte (WBT), Va., and is now is on
Charlotte's public radio station. Kernis recalls that Collins was among
those who helped build WMUC.
"By the time I became program director at WMUC I knew there was a lot
more to radio than playing rock 'n' roll. Before me, WMUC had done news
shows and sports shows but one of the things I did was to put in a lot
of special programming," says Kernis. That included putting African
American students on the air, regularly. "Black students came to WMUC
and said: 'This station is much too white,' and I agreed." Kernis had
experience working at WRVR in New York, a fully integrated, diverse
radio station. The outcome at WMUC was programming that reflected the
African American students. The show that aired in 1973 was called
"Yesternow" says Kernis, speaking with pride of the concept if not the
name. Kernis also recalls Anne Edwards who, in 1971, was the first woman
to head the station and the first to put women on the air. Soon after,
WMUC got its FM license, a process begun by Edwards, and plans were
under way for a new radio station.
During Kopen's and Kernis' time, WMUC was housed in a temporary building
that was shared with art students. "We also designed the new radio
station that we thought we were going to get to work in," says Kernis,
of the station's current home in the dining hall. "It's old now, but it
was brand new then," he says and reflected the new programming that he
and fellow WMUC alumni developed. In addition to the African American
voices, there was women's programming, a half-hour magazine show,
Readers' Theater and a Sunday morning religious magazine. Kernis also
created "The College Quiz."
"If you said go back and do it today, I would grab our years. We did a
lot of experimentation and did a lot more than play records."
--Dianne Burch
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