I remember KRAB (FM, Seattle)1 with its programming of Indian classical music, a pipa concert, two hours of Korean temple bells2, things like that, often with European classical music and country blues mixed in.
I remember the antenna up on the telephone pole that you had to go hit with a two-by-four on those rare occasions when the snow started sticking.
And I remember one night when everything, except time, stopped dead.3 What happened was that the accumulated muck and filth in the old converted doughnut shop (sans janitor) had caused the blower that cooled one of the power tubes to stop blowing; and the melted and mangled 7C24 became an objet d‘art that hung around the station for months.
So now you know what I consider my salad days.
1Yes, I was there, although the picture at the top of this post is from before my time. I’m on the cover of the August ’71 Program Guide just left of the gate. I’m sitting on a big metal box that housed the electric company’s transformer that supplied power to the transmitter.
Hey, PZ: do you remember Jon Gallant, a biology professor at the University of Washington? He’s also in the photo.
I heard rumors, not confirmed by me, that the fellow on the far right, Tiny Freeman, was the engineer in the opening title sequence of Petticoat Junction. It seems that he was one of the few people who could still safely operate a
2One of KRAB’s more infamous programs: the kid playing the temple bells tape thought, “That was cool; I’ll turn it over and play the other side.” Uh…it was a full-track tape, and so he played the whole thing backwards (and thought that was even cooler). That was before my time, but it was a well-established part of the station’s tribal lore.
3“…everything, except time, stopped dead” shamelessly borrowed from an essay by the late Greg Palmer written during his time as station manager. I’m pretty sure it was in a KRAB Program Guide, but I can’t remember which one and can’t find it. In any event, that wonderful turn of phrase is not my work.