The venom of the radio bug is potent. It’s a bite with sometimes-poisonous symptoms that we can’t explain. We try to find the words for those that we love, but those who love us back understand it without explanation.
We (radio hosts) know how to have a good time, but the greats in the business know that a good party isn’t everything.
Big Chair, Big Responsibility
I first met Radio One‘s founder, Cathy Hughes, back in 2011. I was a wide-eyed college kid (intern) with an appetite for something that I couldn’t quite understand. It was an intense feeling that made me ask questions about the world around me, and taught me how to talk my people through finding the answers. As you can see, I still struggle with bringing the feeling to words.
It all made sense the day I met Cathy Hughes, though.
It was a Monday in August, a little over a week after my 21st birthday. A 5.8 magnitude earthquake shook Maryland. I was standing in my parents’ kitchen when everything started to rattle. Plates were kicking around the cabinets like rambunctious toddlers. We don’t usually get that sort of thing in Maryland so I was nervously curious as to what the shake up was all about.
But then, that bug bit me. The one I was talking about in the opening paragraph. That inexplicable one that walks some of us into burning buildings and gunfire. That urge.
After the rattling stopped, I grabbed the keys to my parents’ Jeep and flew up Annapolis Road to the radio station. People were everywhere, but it wasn’t chaotic. That’s not the word I would use. Think: focused. A calm urgency blanketed the lobby like the smell of fresh stogies at a popular cigar bar. You could feel it and you could taste it.
Some of us are made of it.
I’m a protective young man. Always have been. I knew I needed to be in the studio, but I went upstairs to check on some of my favorite people there (if you know me personally, then you know that I sometimes believe I’m Batman). Most of them were in a giddy state of shock. A nervous excitement rooted in witnessing what felt impossible. Everyone was fine though.
I jumped back onto the elevator and Ms. Hughes joined me. I didn’t even know she was in the building that day. She was with someone whose face I can’t recall right now, but I remember they were locked in and ready for whatever mission the bug had them on.
Did I make small talk? Of course not. I was as nervous as a Turkey a month away from Thanksgiving. It really got weird because we were headed to the same place: the studios.
Always Be By the Phone
I followed her into the sacred hallway door leading to the studios. A true rite of passage. A legendary threshold for us radio nerds in D.C. She stopped off at one of the first studio doors and I continued down the hall to WKYS. It felt like a full-blown newsroom in there. I’ve still got a goosebump, or two, from it.
My mentor at the time was on the air and he was giving a complete masterclass on radio. I mean, watching him mix the music, emergency information, empathy, and commercials together was as poetic as radio gets. Like watching an acclaimed painter working through his masterpiece. It was incredible. I learned so much that day. One of my favorite days of my career.
You know something else I’ll never forget about that day? The sheer panic in the voice of the callers. Phone lines were flashing nonstop the entire time. People wanted answers and they wanted to be comforted. They also wanted a place to vent about the experience.
The Sacred Commitment to Journalism
No two days are the same in broadcasting. What starts off as a ‘normal’ day of sharing new music and lifestyle news could turn into a public emergency situation in an instant. There’s no room for distractions or mistakes. The people are counting on you to get it right.
My former mentor was pulling information from public officials, news outlets, and trusted community leaders, creating a conversation that was equally inclusive and informative. I was standing there in amazement. Operating within that art of journalism is the sole reason why we were called. It’s our jump-shot in the fourth quarter and our leg when it’s time to nail a game-winning kick.
We must do it well and we must do it for the people.
These are the moments that make radio relevant in a digital age that, at times, makes the industry feel forgotten. “Despite the rapid development of digital platforms, radio remains attractive to many,” writes Timothy Campbell of Roundabout FM. “This is due to its immediacy, live contact, and sense of presence. Unlike pre-recorded content, live broadcasting means participating in the moment, creating a unique experience that cannot be rewound or rewatched.”
Algorithms and commercial-free streaming platforms are definitely everywhere, but nothing will ever replace the need for human connection; especially in times of public emergencies. People want to connect and experience life together.
Never Too Big For the Moment
A few hours passed and the calls kept rolling in. People were crying, scared, and excited. I was tagged into the beautiful chaos. I had my oversized headphones on and was producing the show, handling the music segues while the hosts took calls. The night-show host had made her way in and joined the conversation. It was great commentary surrounding a massive moment in local history.
Then, a big voice joined us.
The door swung open and Cathy Hughes walked in. You would think that the CEO of a major media company would be too busy to talk with her community during a major public event, but there she was. “Bosslady” grabbed a mic and talked to her people with a calming confidence that reminded everyone that everything would be alright.
That’s service and dedication.
A Reminder of ‘Why’
To my colleagues: we operate in a vacuum of distractions, today. Media and journalism can sometimes feel like a vanity sport in a world that’s more concerned with image than community. It’s extremely tempting to sacrifice the calling for the image, but do not swat the bug.
I truly believe that you were called into service for a reason. That reason is deeper than being a show-pony or jester. I cannot tell you your ‘why’, nor can anyone else, but I do know that some day, somewhere, at a critical time in history, that ‘calling’ will mean so much more to a community than you may be able to fathom today.
It’s about bringing joy to a broken society, dragging the sun into people’s cloudy days and an unwavering commitment to community through sound journalism.
It is not natural to be able to perform in high-pressure moments and in the face of adversity, public emergencies, and natural disasters. The natural human inclination is to run the other way in the face of trouble. Please know that your superpower is to use your journalistic soul to save the day.
We see you and we appreciate you. The only way to fail is to forget that you were called and to forget the calling.
Do not squash the bug. It bit you for a reason.
