WIAR

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INTRO

If you were around Paducah, Kentucky before the 1970s, you probably remember listening to WPAD. From the soaps and comedies of the 30s and 40s to the wacky DJs such as Jim Youngblood in the 50s and 60s, many reflect on WPAD when they think of Paducah radio history. Although WPAD is Paducah’s oldest surviving radio station, few remember the station that went on the air eight years before WPAD debuted. WIAR was experimental, short-lived, and dynamic. It helped partly establish how radio would work in Paducah and gave the town a taste of what was to come. In the early 1920’s, a technological innovation advanced quickly across the United States. Radio established itself quickly in the cities and farmlands as operators formed a trade and curious listeners tuned in to hear the magic of the ether. Radio held the great possibility of tying the nation together and exposing Americans to entertainment and information outside of their local communities. No network of radio programming existed, so radio operators relied upon their own talents along with those of the local community for programming. Soon, however, radio grew into an industry, and the economic reality of running a radio station hit many operators hard. National radio network programming emerged, and stations who were paid by the networks found it to be more cost-effective to run radio syndication programs and network content. World War II proved radio to be a treasured, national asset as reporters brought news of the war back to America. Virtually everyone in the nation could tune in and hear the same reports at the same time. The homogenization of America’s radio sound began. At the same time, however, the government created the FCC, an organization that would oversee the radio industry and set some stringent along with some vague rules. The FCC called for radio stations to serve their communities by providing local content that would be beneficial to listeners. Many stations would remain committed to their listeners by retaining a sound unique to their area, while others would follow the homogenized sound, and, once the FCC loosened their public service requirements, switch completely to syndicated content. Therefore, the shift toward a homogenized sound across the United States was a product of the economy of local radio stations along with the deregulation of the industry by the FCC.

Early Paducah Radio

Paducah entered radio early, and the first station owner was concerned with pure promotion. The Commerce Department issued Kentucky’s second radio license to J.A. Rudy & Sons at 115 South Third St. in Paducah in July 1922, less than two years after KDKA in Pittsburgh made its groundbreaking broadcast of the 1920 Presidential election returns. WIAR became a promotional arm of Mr. Rudy’s retail establishment. While much of the content of the station’s programming during its early days is now a lost memory due to the station’s sporadic transmissions, the continuous promo line “It’s at Rudy’s” established itself well enough in the minds of listeners to outlast the store itself. The station operated about half a year before it was sold to the Paducah Evening Sun, a daily newspaper that was owned by Paducah’s Paxton family.

WIAR enjoyed a brief, but dynamic run through the first half of 1923 under the Sun’s lead.  The newspaper cross-promoted the station heavily beginning in early January. The daily rag would run front-page stories ad nauseam, promoting that evenings programming among the hard news.  Headlines such as “Concerts Continue to Bring Praises for Sun Station,” “Impressive are Music Programs by Sun’s Radio,” and “Artists Keep Up Splendid Quality of WIAR Concerts” were common front-page fare.  The paper, which had only run stories about radio sparingly before hand, now had features about the station and radio in general several times throughout each day’s edition.  Many articles were very technical in nature.  A series appeared on new radio receiving circuits including detailed instructions on how the reader could build their own set.  The series was accompanied with schematics.  One article detailed how a Paducah man received a WIAR signal by wrapping a lead pencil in wire, attaching it to a doorknob and a crystal, and then grounding it.  The radio station even boasted its ability to beat the weather.  A storm hit the city on March 12, and most telegraph lines were down.  The paper’s two dedicated AP telegraph lines were inoperable.  The Sun tried to use WIAR to pick up news messages, but station workers were only able to receive entertainment programs or “vacant” air.  A separate article sported the headline “WIAR Laughs at Elements, Music on Time Tonight” in a jab to the telegraph industry.  “Wires may come and wires may go,” the article stated, “but radio laughs at all the efforts of the elements to stop communication between mortals.”

The local flavor of Paducah radio emerged early. Programming was live and the station depended on local talent to come to the studio and perform. On January 9, 1923, for instance, the paper reported, “Tonight’s concert will feature Mrs. Emma Greer Horn, of the Palmer Chocolate Shop.” Radio broadcasting was truly a community event. The newspaper started running detailed set lists from the previous night’s broadcasting. The station generally broadcast programming from 7-8pm Monday through Saturday and would oftentimes present an afternoon sports broadcast. Jazz bands, Rotary Club performers, singers, and violinists performed in the WIAR studios. An African-American choir, billed as “Negro Harmonists” performed a set of “sacred songs” in the early days of the station under the Sun’s ownership. Paducah resident Joe Allen, who was known as an “expert imitator of animals and birds” presented a program called “Kentucky Possum Hunt.” The program featured Allen playing every character including the dogs and the coon. The Sun also asked local residents to notify them when talented friends or family visited from out of town. WIAR was constantly on the lookout for people to sing, play instruments, and perform for listeners. Alben Barkley, then United States Congressman from Paducah and future Vice-President once broadcast from WIAR as did Paducah native and humorist Irvin Cobb. Cobb would later go on to perform on network radio, using his unique brand of southern humor to entertain listeners. In the middle of January, the station went off the air for a day in order to make improvements. The paper reported that technology was changing and the Sun station wanted to provide listeners the best possible experience. According to the Sun, the walls were padded to “intensify the sound” and improve quality. One radio historian reported that the walls were draped with old World War I army blankets. In addition, the studio became a closed set when most of the transmitting equipment was moved out, and artists were the only ones permitted in during broadcasts. The station moved quickly during those early days to grab the attention of radio enthusiasts. It was about this time that the Sun started printing portions of listeners’ letters in the paper. The national appeal and reach of radio was seen in letters from listeners both nearby and from areas such as Texas, Minnesota, and California. The paper later bragged about letters and telegraphs of praise from as far away as Canada. The Sun also showed its enthusiasm for radio by running a full-page list of all the known radio stations in the United States in early 1923. Radio was not only a local event; it was a national phenomenon. The uniqueness of radio was in the ability of Americans to tune in to a station and grab a slice of life from virtually anywhere in the United States. The programming consisted of local citizens, therefore each station had a sound that was exclusive to its region. A Sun story reported that Mike Danaher, a Paducah businessman, went to the home office of his company in Colorado Springs and was able to hear a program from his hometown at a listening station. The paper in Colorado Springs reported that listeners “heard concerts from Paducah, KY, and Fort Worth, Tex.” The power of radio as a national phenomenon, as well as a local one, was then evident. The pride of Paducah was something to be displayed. In March of 1923, Fred G. Neuman, author of “The Story of Paducah” and “Paducahans in History” presented a program about the city as a type of public relations move to provide the nation with information on “that gem in diadem of American cities…” The script of the show was re-printed in the Sun. The station reasoned that letters were pouring in from distant locations, and listeners would probably be interested in the city that produced such entertaining programming. Those at the Sun must have beamed with pride as their station took the story of Paducah to residents across the eastern United States and even parts of Canada. But just as listeners from far away were tuning in to hear Paducah stations, some local radio fans were tuning in to hear stations from outside the Paducah area. Radio was a hobby to many, and tracking stations from points afar was entertainment itself. At the beginning of March 1923, the station announced that it would stop broadcasting on Saturday nights. WIAR, along with other stations in broadcasting range, had agreed to be silent one night a week so listeners could try to receive long distance signals. While there was support for local programming, this was an indication that local listeners also wanted to hear programs from other areas. The fans of radio came together to form a club in February. Charter members set Edwin J. Paxton, owner of WIAR, as the president, and the club had 130 members within two weeks. The club said it represented about ten percent of the radio station owners in Paducah, which the paper estimated to be about 1,000. The radio club held meetings at the car barns of the Paducah Railway Company at Fourteenth and Broadway and would occasionally have control of WIAR during the evening broadcast hour. In March, the club called for people who could “moan to the bones” to play “craps by radio.” While the details were sketchy and the call was riddled with the slang of the day, the club made it known that those to the west and north of the station would be appreciative of “southern songs, games, and pastimes, and a real ‘OONTZ’ party would create no end of interest.” Twenty-three years later in 1946, the Sun reflected on WIAR and the playing of craps on the air. According to the Sun article, four “colored performers” were given two dollars in nickels, a pair of dice, and then invited into the studio. After getting over a bit of stage fright, the program was reportedly “a riot,” and letters came in asking for more programs of its type. In addition to the rich, local programming, a sense of service to the community was present from the beginning. The Paducah radio club, along with WIAR and The Paducah Evening Sun, started a fundraiser to purchase a radio for Paducah’s orphanage, then known as the Home of the Friendless. Radio fans wanted to share the new world of radio with the children and reasoned that the new innovation was meant to instruct as well as entertain. According to one plea in the Sun: Possessing a radio set, the children of the Home can tune in each day and evening, and the simple process of tuning in will open up to them a new world rich in charm and mystery. The infinite happiness they may attain from such a gift will repay whatever sum may be expended in its purchase, a million fold. Early in the campaign, the Paducah Exchange club held a radio-broadcasting banquet at the station, a live radio event that boasted fourteen acts of entertainment. Children from the Home of the Friendless listened to the broadcast at the car barns in the rail yard where the radio club held meetings. In addition to providing a radio for orphans, several Paducah businesses and businessmen raised funds to give local firemen a radio for the central station. The firemen had been tinkering with homemade sets, but the new set included an antenna wire that was 100-feet in length and stretched from the fire station to the flagpole on city hall. Radio was already a community project, and service to citizens was evident. Later, the FCC would seek to regulate a public service commitment aspect of radio, yet those at WIAR started the station with those thoughts in mind. In April, the Sun announced that the station would close for the summer season and end regular evening broadcasts until the fall. The paper stated that the studio, which was heavily padded, would be very uncomfortable for performers during the summer months. The Sun indicated that afternoon broadcasts of baseball news would begin and remain throughout the summer. Unfortunately, the station’s programming never returned. The fall Paducah Sun papers did not mention the station again. One historian stated that the station did not have a licensed radio operator by mid-1923 and that constant equipment problems may have also played a role in the station’s demise. The 1946 Sun article stated that operations were expensive, and this was at a time when an advertiser supported model of business had not been established in radio. Two or three tubes would burn out everyday at a cost of seven dollars apiece. One of the last entertainment performances was fittingly the singing of “My Old Kentucky Home.” What made WIAR so amazing was the dynamic way it affected the community in only a four-month life span. Fundraisers were held, a club had formed, readers built their own sets, and a daily recruitment of local talent gave listeners across the eastern United States a taste of Paducah. One could only imagine, however, the difficulty in maintaining such a service of recruiting local talent to perform nightly. Eventually, the radio industry would find strength in network programming in order to relieve that stress. The equipment was sold before the end of 1923 to Acme Flour Mill in Hopkinsville, a Louisville owned company. Even though WIAR’s run was short, it established a standard of local broadcasting in Paducah. Local citizens proudly provided broadcasting content. Paducah listeners would be introduced to the national networks later, yet the fact that network programming was not available in the early days built within radio a bond between itself and the communities it served.