Tribute to Radio & The Pilots of The Airwaves

Al Koch
November 2024

When I was born in January of 1941, radio was 20 years old.  Technically, in the 1890s, Italian inventor Guglielmo Marconi, transmitted the first wireless (electromagnet radio) signal over a significant distance.  Known as Amplitude Modulation, (AM Radio). In 1893, Inventor Nikolai Telsa, demonstrated radio transmission in St. Louis, Missouri.   Eight years later, in 1901, Marconi transmitted the first transatlantic signal over a significant number of miles that marked the beginning of wireless communication technology.

The first transmission of music and speech over radio waves took place Monday, December 24, 1906 --on Christmas Eve.  Radio pioneer, Reginald Fessenden, a Canadian inventor broadcast from Brnat Park, Massachusetts. This historic presentation included a violin solo followed by a reading of Biblical Scripture.  The song played on the air that Christmas Eve was “O Holy Night,” making it one of the first songs ever heard over the radio.

Mr. Fessenden’s presentation became the foundation for the development of radio as a medium for entertainment, commerce, and cultural dissemination. Fourteen years later, in 1920, the first commercially licensed radio station, KDKA in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, began regular broadcasting. Broadcasts featured classical music increasing its popularity.

Throughout the 1920s various radio stations began operations worldwide. Soon after KDKA was on the air, they signed a contract with local music distributors to gain access for the rights to play music over their frequency.

Note: Readers should know that the theory of electromagnetic wave transmission was first formulated by James Maxwell’s electromagnetic Theory in 1865. Succinctly, Maxwell’s theory states that electric and magnetic fields travel through space as waves moving at the speed of light.

In 1887, Herman Hertz, a German physicist discovered Radio waves and scientifically proved James Maxwell’s theory. Hertz’s name references broadcast frequencies of the AM radio dial. 540 Khertz to 1700 Khertz. Each station has a bandwidth of 10 Khertz—5 above, and 5 below: hence AM 560, 570, 580, etc.

In 1918, inventor Edward Armstrong developed the Superheterodyne variable capacitor. His invention enabled the selectivity of stations along the AM range of frequencies. He further expanded the versatility of radio in 1933 when he invented Frequency Modulation radio (FM).  This invention became a significant advancement that improved sound quality and reduced interference. His creative radio technology would become an integral part of radio, television, and military application. 

As mentioned, I was born in 1941 BT – “Before Television.” By age three I became aware of the importance of radio in our home.  The 1942 table model Crosley was on morning to night. During World War II, I awoke to morning newscasts listening to reports from Europe and Pacific theaters of operation. Legendary voices of CBS news broadcast in dramatic detail how America’s armed forces fared a particular day.  At suppertime I recall hearing the voice of Gabriell Heatter’s opening: “There’s Good News Tonight.”   Early in the war, there was not much good news.   No one talked at the dinner table while the newscast was on.  Mom and Dad listened intently and although I did not understand the severity of the situation, I could sense the anxiety and uncertainty on their faces.  My two older brothers also remained quiet.

On a few special evenings, the voice of the President, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, came from the radio as he shared thoughts via his “Fireside Chats.”  I learned early that radio was a necessity for Americans.   This marvelous invention provided information, entertainment, and tranquility for millions of Americans.  It kept us in touch with the outside world.  Thanks to the mystery of electronic technology, radio became a trusted and faithful companion.

By the time I was five years of age, I was hooked on the radio. I awoke to the morning newscasts and afterwards, dressed while listening to the jingle of Happy Hank (featuring his dog Squeaky).  “Hey, get your clothes together, in front of the radio, hurry now, don’t be slow, we have things to do and places to go.”   Then a few twists of the dial and Don McNeil’s Breakfast Club.  “First call to breakfast…”

We visited each morning with Arthur Godfrey Time and followed the radio soap opera adventures of Backstage Wife, Our Gal Sunday, The Romance of Helen Trent, and Just Plain Bill.  The Bob and Ray Show brightened our afternoons along with a variety of network musical shows. All these broadcasts served as appetizers for the later afternoon and evening banquet when a kid could tune in his favorite adventure or mystery program and exercise his imagination.

Somewhere along the way our family acquired a 1937 Zenith console radio. It was housed in a beautiful wood cabinet and was proudly displayed in the parlor of my Grandparent’s house on Oliver Street.  My father was born in that house on November 13, 1903.   After my grandmother passed in April of 1946, Dad bought the house from his sisters and brother, and in April of 1946, our family moved from our garage flat on Lincoln Avenue to the Victorian house that my grandfather built in the late 1890s.

Although it was nearly ten years old, the Zenith radio looked majestic.  In addition to being a radio, it was a prized piece of furniture.  Each evening my older brother and I would sprawl on the floor in front of the radio, look intently at the speaker, and listen to a favorite program.  As soon as the radio was turned on one had to wait a minute or two for the vacuum tubes to reach operating temperature. Although the dial light came on instantly, the tubes required filament heat to energize the components.  The most predominant sound was the hum from the 5U4 rectifier tube, the largest radio tube. Once the chassis was energized and warmed, the programming sounds from the 12-inch speaker muted the hum of the tubes.

After all these years, the names of those programs still evoke fond memories of time well spent: Jack Armstrong, The All-American Boy; The Tom Mix Ralston Straightshooters; Bobby Benson and the B-Bar-B Ranch; Sergeant Preston of the Yukon, The Lone Ranger, The Adventures of Superman, The Green Hornet, Captain Midnights, Straight Arrow, and Dick Tracy.

We faithfully followed their adventures and pleaded with Mom to buy the sponsor’s product. A kid needed a ready supply of coveted box tops to send for the special offers and premiums. Each hero had their own special diet to fight the bad guys. Jack Armstrong ate General Mill’s Wheaties; Straight Arrow thrived on Nabisco Shredded Wheat; Superman loaded himself with Kellogg’s Pep to go up, up, and away. Tom Mix was fueled by Purina’s Hot Ralston; Sergeant Preston and his wonder dog King fortified themselves with Quaker   Puffed rice and Quaker Puffed Wheat; The Lone Ranger and Tonto fought for justice nourished with General Mill’s Cheerios; and Captain Midnight washed it all down with gallons of Wander AG’s chocolate Ovaltine.

For a dime and a box top or two, a kid became an official member of Tom Mix’s Straightshooters. Hot Ralston always gave me constipation, but I shoveled it in until I had enough box tops for a Sheriff Mike Whistling Badge, a rocket parachute, and an official Straightshooter photo album. While my box tops and dimes went to a magical place named Checkerboard Square in St. Louis, Missouri, I went to the bathroom to diffuse a potential lethal explosion.  The program’s announcer always urged us to hurry, because the offer was limited. Tell me about it.

Hooked on radio meant hooked on premiums. I ate Wheaties by the bucketful, just so I could send for my authentic Jack Armstrong pedometer. (I passed on the offer for a replica of Betty’s luminous bracelet. I couldn’t handle any more Wheaties—I was beginning to germinate!

As a kid, I never thought about a conspiracy when I discovered The Lone Ranger was sponsored by the same company that made Wheaties. Instead of wheat, the Masked Man, Tonto, Dan Reid (his nephew), and presumably all the horses chowed down on Cheerios, (Those tasty little O’s!).  Because I was worried about ticking off the Lone Ranger, (I didn’t sweat Tonto), I ate hundreds of bowls of Cheerios.

During one period of my premium frenzy, I needed four box tops and a dollar to buy the complete layout of the Lone Ranger’s Frontier Town.  A kid could buy each section separately for one Cheerios box top and twenty-five cents, (No stamps please.), or send for the whole town—four box tops and a dollar.

I sucked down Cheerios like a starving vacuum cleaner. I wanted the whole town, and I wanted it now! I scrounged alley trashcans all over Whiting searching for deposit soda bottles until I had four quarters. I was excited. I sent the box tops and coins to General Mills, headquarters of Jack Armstrong and the Lone Ranger, in Minneapolis, Minnesota.  By now, I was on a first-name basis with the postman.

Superman faked me out. He wasn’t big on premiums, but I went ahead and ate Kellogg’s Pep just in case. Every so often, I’d get a chance to send my dime and box tops to Superman’s branch office in Battle Creek, Michigan but between you and me, I got snookered into eating all that Pep. Superman’s alter-ego, mild-mannered reporter, Clark Kent, was too busy wooing Lois Lane to worry about box tops.           

I was so gullible; I fell into the same trap with the program: Straight Arrow. These were the adventures of a rancher named Steve Adams who would ride into a well-concealed cave, change into a Comanche Indian and fight for law and order. Here was a guy with a severe identity crisis, who dressed up every night like it was Halloween. I was thoroughly duped, and never gave it a second thought. Clearly the guy had issues. Maybe Straight Arrow over-dosed on Nabisco’s Shredded Wheat; I almost did myself. To this day I can’t stand to see a box of those straw-like biscuits. Even seeing a bird’s nest or a whisk broom makes me queasy. From a nutrition point of view, those pillows of shredded wheat were loaded with dietetic fiber; by the end of the broadcast season, Straight Arrow fans were passing wicker furniture.

I did not have any such problem with Quaker Puffed Wheat or Quaker Puffed Rice. These were the staples of Sergeant Preston of the Yukon and his wonder dog King. (The Yukon canine probably puzzled over why all Preston fed him was air-puffed grain while he froze his bazooka off in the frozen tundra.)

When Sergeant Preston offered his secret signal ring for two box tops and thirty-five cents, I got so excited, I puffed my own rice! As soon as my ring arrived from Preston’s summer home in Chicago, I took it to school to show it off and secretly signaled the guys.

This was 1952 and I was a sixth grader at Sacred Heart Catholic School in Whiting, Indiana. Unfortunately, Sister Bruiser, who was not a fan of Sergeant Preston, didn’t like dogs, hated cold weather, and wasn’t thrilled with anything having to do with Quakers, intercepted my signaling and confiscated my ring. It disappeared down the bottomless pit of her nun’s garb never to be seen again.

Sister Bruiser (named after the patron saint of black-and-blue marks) thought I would be devastated after losing my ring. No chance. To me it was just a minor setback. I had plenty of reserve in my parochial survival kit. Sister didn’t know that I was a card-carrying member of Captain Midnight’s Secret Squadron, with an SS2 decoder badge. And Sister had no idea what treasure a dime and waxed Ovaltine seal meant to a kid.  There were moments though, when I envisioned Sister Bruiser in a certain cereal factory being “shot from guns.”

Before I graduated from grade school several life changing events took place. The number one, major electronic marvel was the arrival and invasion of television into America’s living rooms. Cynics called this latest invention “Picture Radio.” Seemingly overnight, box tops, coins, and program premiums became obsolete. No longer would kids sprawl on the parlor rug in front of the radio and listen to adventures and spine-tingling episodes of The Shadow, Lights Out, Inner Sanctum or Suspense. Radio forced one to use their imagination, television shunted the need for mind exercises.  Television’s cathode ray tube replaced imagination by staging pre-determined images via a 525-line raster in living black and white. Although a few radio programs transitioned to television, most were discarded for programing provided by the new video medium. 

Many believed that television would bring an end to radio rendering it obsolete. But that never happened. Radio not only survived, it thrived and rivaled television for patrons and advertisers.  In addition to established programs like soap operas and comedy radio programs, the AM dial afforded the opportunity to tune in to sporting events like baseball and football games, the Indianapolis 500 race, and the heavyweight boxing championship of the world.

The early morning on-air reading of Chicago Herald-American Sunday Funnies for the children was always a treat. There were hourly newscasts, talent shows like Morris B. Sachs and Ted Mack Amateur Hours, religious programs of various denominations, and several musical variety shows. Radio not only continued to serve diverse nationwide audiences, it expanded, adapted, and enriched broadcasts menus to meet the changing trends of America.

Five months before I graduated from eighth grade, in January of 1954, I turned 13 years of age and became a teenager.  Although I like watching television, I’m a radio person. I was raised on the radio.  Before the day of FM, TV, stereo, MTV, VH1, and videos, I thrived on an audio diet of mysteries, comedies, dramas, sports, news—and music.  Radio has always been an important part of my life.  It’s not surprising, by the time I became a teenager, I was primed and ready for rock ‘n’ roll. 

Radio, already my mainstay, gained added prominence with the advent of Rhythm & Blues and Rock and Roll music.  While stumbling over the threshold of puberty, I became a radio addict. Rarely could I make it through the day without a substantial serving of ear-pounding, boneshaking, gutbucket rhythms pouring out radio speakers.

To make this awakening more meaningful, technology provided ready access to the music.  First, the 78 rpm 10-inch, shellac record was replaced with the 45 rpm, 7-inch diameter, vinyl record, with its own oversized spindle, new record players were designed specifically for teens.  Business executives realized that teenagers had money to spend on clothing, food, personal items, and records. And radio was in the forefront of providing the latest sounds for the insatiable appetite of adolescents.

In addition, the vacuum tube radio was being replaced with transistors.  No longer bulky and cumbersome, radios could now be carried in one’s shirt pocket and operate on miniature batteries   Brand names of Ray-O-Vac, Eveready, and Burgess produced the batteries that powered portable radios nationwide. And perhaps the most effective change was the voices of the radio. Bland announcers acquired “A smile in their voice,” as they broadcasted programs, commercials, and special events. At the top of this list were the DJ’s (disk jockeys), whose persona socially connected via the air waves with thousands of young listeners.

DJ’s promoted rock ‘n’ roll on radio. These faceless, fast-talking voices became unseen friends as station after station vied for listeners. Quickly these quip masters became personalities and pilots of the airwaves. Kids memorized call letters, knew the dial settings, and spoke about the DJ’s as if they were personal friends. Local stations led the way in cultivating the newly discovered teenage audience.

In the early fifties, shortly after Blackboard Jungle filled the Hoosier theater’s movie screen and teenager’s ears with Bill Haley’s Rock Around the Clock, local disc jockeys cashed in.  Calumet Region DJ’s on WWCA included Dizzy Dixon, Jerry Gerard, and Vivian Carter.  Her six nights a week’s show— “Livin’ with Vivian” became a “must listen to” priority for region teens.  Her program’s opening welcome: “How are all you cream puffs and sponges out there?” welcomed listeners to an evening of popular music. Gary’s DJ’s along with Hammond’s WJOB, Steve King, filled Region airwaves with rhythm and blues, rock ‘n’ roll, dedications, and snappy chatter.

Jerry Gerard encouraged teens to dedicate a song to a favored friend by sending in a written request on a penny post card to his WWCA radio show. Only the first names were broadcast. Some creative kids included clever phrases, nicknames, or rhymes with their request. Listening to the DJ read their words over the air was adolescent treasure.

So infectious were the sounds of Rhythm & Blues and Rock ‘n’ Roll, that teenage guys would get-together on street corners and spontaneously begin to harmonize, do-wop.  A favorite location for Whiting teens was in front of Walgreens at the corner of Clark and 119th Streets. In between their informal street-corner seminars passers-by would hear the rhythmic improvisation of Jan and Arnie’s Jenny Lee, The Penguins, Earth Angel, or Dion & The Belmont’s, I Wonder Why.

In the mid-fifties, the Whiting Community Center sponsored Saturday evening street dances where Whiting-Robertsdale teens could meet, socialize, dance, and enjoy current tunes.  During cold weather, the dances were held in the Community Center’s Girls’ gym.  During warm weather, the dances were held in the large parking lot next to Ciesar’s Chrysler-Plymouth dealer across the street from the Community Center. A makeshift bandstand with sound was provided  for the radio talent to introduce records, guests, and local teens.   The Region’s DJ’s conveyed celebrity on hometown teenagers and created a social buzz they could share with friends.

What caused radio stations to program directly to teens?  This was not happenstance.  It was the realization that teenagers of the current generation were consumers, had money to spend, and adopted the newest Rock ‘n’ roll as their own.

 Unbeknownst to the street-corner teenagers singing R&B and Do-Wop as they worked on harmonies on the corner in Whiting, Indiana; four-hundred and fifty miles west in Omaha, Nebraska, two broadcast executives were having lunch at a local Diner and observed a phenomenon that heretofore went unnoticed. They watched as patrons played the same tunes on the jukebox time after time over a period of several hours. Although there were 100 selections available, a few favorite songs were played again and again.  The two men were Bill Stewart, Program Director, and Todd Storz, operator of KOWH, a small daytime AM station.

These observations became the foundation of “Format Radio” programming.  Initially, it had nothing to do with teens or rock ‘n’ roll.  A Texas radio station owner, Gordon McLendon adopted the formula and named it the TOP 40 playlist. By 1955, Top 40 programming was at the forefront of radio stations nationwide.  In concert with the Top 40 Playlist, the on-air talent –the disk jockeys-- became informative, entertaining, humorous, and likeable. In short, disk jockeys  made interesting things important, and important things interesting.

Because radio waves move at the speed of light, thousands of radio stations rushed to imitate McLendon’s programming success.  Small, medium, and major market radio stations adopted the Top 40 format.  And the current generation of teenagers was waiting with radios blasting, tuned in, eager to enjoy “their” music, DJ chatter, and spend money on advertiser’s products that focused on them.

By 1955, when big city, major market radio discovered rock ‘n’ roll music, station managers used every bit of their licensed FCC wattage to lure young listeners. Teens had money to spend so Chicago radio giants like WIND, and WCFL, pulled out all the stops to gain favor of the lucrative teenage market.

Five years later, on Monday May 2, 1960, at high noon, the Chicago Radio scene changed. One of the most powerful fifty-thousand-watt Clear Channel radio stations, Chicago’s WLS, changed it programming format. With the flick of a switch, WLS went from The Prairie Farmer Station to the Big 89!   The first 45 rpm record on its turntable was a novelty song by the Hollywood Argyles: Alley Oop, officially signaling their change in format.  Officially, the new programming was labeled contemporary, but every teenager within earshot of the 50,000 watts of pulsating rhythm knew it was the station for them!

For the first few weeks, radio dials whirled, and car radio buttons were set and pushed with frenzy-like fervor, as youthful ears searched for the latest sounds and cleverest DJ chatter. WIND’s line-up included Howard Miller, Dick Williamson, Milo Hamilton, and Lee Rogers. WCFL showcased Ron Britian, Jerry G. Bishop, and even spiced up traffic reports with Trooper 36-24-36! But the station that captured the largest audience of young listeners was upstart WLS, “890 on your AM radio dial.” Their Top 40 formula of on-air-voices had chemistry and energy, and newness that appealed to a wide range of radio tastes. It was aptly call: “Personality Radio.” Even today, six-plus decades after Alley Oop filled car speakers, recalling these “captains’ of the airwaves” conjure up fond memories and good times of younger years when life was less complicated.

“Tune in” once more and listen to Ron Riley’s Rebel Raiders: Bruce Lovely, red-striped jammy night, and the British Billboard. How many hours did we spend riding the Riley-Go-Round until he signed off with this classic closing: “It’s time to bug out for the dugout and blowthis pop stand!” Called “ring-worm-Ron by morning drive-time DJ Clark Weber. Early on, Riley had the top-rated show early on. He warmed up the audience for the “Wild I-tralian,” Dick Biondi, who took over the microphone until midnight

If Riley was silly, Biondi would be insane! In between records, Biondi would sing about meatballs and pizzas. He became America’s #1 nighttime DJ. He had a positive influence on kids. Thousands of teenaged boys rushed out to buy “Tackle,” a popular blemish medication, which sponsored Biondi’s show. His adlib readings of advertising copy became classic. At midnight, Biondi turned the studio over to Don Phillips, and his “East of Midnight” show. “Dimply Donny,” as he was called by his on-air colleagues, DJ’d area sock hops, before hopping into his Piper Cub and flying back to WLS in time for his after-midnight show.

Art Roberts ran afternoons and kept sunbathers from being scorched with his twenty-minute turnover.  He was the favorite DJ of the sun bunnies, and beachcomber stud muffins. Along with the TOP 40 current hits, his show featured Hip Fables, Rotten Egg Award, episodes of Peter Fugitive, guest teenage DJ’s, and Hootie Sapper Ticker—the king of nothing.  Kids ate it up and begged for more.

Clark Weber, in the early 60s, anchored the morning drive-time show. His 5:00 a.m. to 10:00 a.m. show featured farm reports with Captain Stubby, and some of the funniest repartee ever broadcast. Clark referred to his listeners as “Weber’s Golden Commandos,” and teased his audience about his assistant Maxine, and Winky the weather girl. Taken together, WLS’ roster of on-air talent blew away the competition.

Sharing the WLS microphone during the early sixties were Jim Dunbar, Gener Taylor, Sam Holman, Bob Hale, Mort Crowley, Chuck Bill, and Dex Card. These were the voices that became the soundtrack of our lives, and gifted listeners with a treasury of memorable moments.

(Note: for a more complete list of 1950s and 1960s on-air talent and personalities, see Appendix).

The competition to lure listeners was so intense that radio stations held contests, offered prizes and premiums. Instead of box tops and coins, the telephone became the preferred method of contact. Listeners had to call the station to qualify. Phone lines were jammed with thousands dialing in for a chance to take part. Free dinners, gifts from sponsors, and a whole host of gimmicks were used to generate interest, cultivate new listeners, and keep station ratings elevated. As an avid listener, I faithfully picked up WLS’s weekly Silver Dollar Survey listing current popular artists and songs from Neal Price’s Firestone Store in Whiting, Indiana. When WIND offered a free poster listing their top 500 and 1000 most popular songs, I added those items to my personal library.  When former DJs wrote their memoirs I purchased their book for my personal library.

As we grew older and matured, other stations, such as WGN and other personalities were auditioned and selected by listeners to meet changing musical and media tastes. But for many of us, the DJs of the 50s and 60s entertained, informed, and made it okay to be a teenager. These pilots of the airwaves, who, season after season, kept us company, played our favorite tunes, and shared part of their world with unseen millions, earned a special place in listeners’ hearts. Without them, drive-in restaurants, drive-in movies, cruisin’, submarine races, and youthful times, wouldn’t have been the same.

This tribute to Radio and the Pilots of the Air Waves is long overdue.  Radio is one of the most prized and enjoyed technological gifts.  Creative and inventive minds discovered how to tame, control, manipulate and manage electromagnetic waves over great distances. Their combined genius enabled world-wide communication.

Radio and on-air voices became faithful, 24/7 friends, providing information, entertainment, companionship, and comfort.  From the early crystal set and single source reception, to the superheterodyne, vacuum tube, multi-band, wired chassis, the change to transistors, printed circuits, and modern digital multi-purpose receivers, radio continues to be a major communication partner, serving people throughout the world. 

Through good times and difficult days, bright sunny afternoons and lonely foreboding dark nights, radio has been an essential part of life. With modern two-way communication, listeners can voice opinions, make requests, and contribute to discussions and topics of mutual interest.  Too often we take for granted the treasure of electronics and the benefits we enjoy. 

Think about memorable moments of your life.  Every now and then, whether in the car, at home, or shopping, we hear a song that triggers a memory and mind-movie from the past.  So many moments, and so many memories are recalled hearing a favorite tune from the soundtrack of our life: youthful milestones, school days, teenage moments, family, friends, romantic dates, beginnings and goodbyes with or about loved ones.  The voices, programs, and music of radio in a wonderful almost magical way, became treasures of the mind and heart.   Radio is a nostalgic cornucopia of today, yesterday, and once-upon-a-time sauteed with laughter, tears, smiles, grins, and a full menu of emotions.

Today, radio is highly sophisticated: integrated with the iPhone, transmitted via space satellites, digital, and powered by electricity, battery, solar, or wind-up crank.  Installed in cars, RVs, boats, bedrooms, dens, garages, and shirt pockets, we are in ready touch with the voices of the radio. Today, more than one hundred years old, radio is an essential part of life on planet earth.   The number of applications of radio waves is mind-boggling.  What a gift!

I recall radio announcers reminding listeners: “Don’t touch that dial, stay here and smile.” And “Keep tuned to this station.”   Whether AM or FM, Networks of CBS, NBC, Mutual, ABC, or Chicagoland stations WJOB, WWCA, WIND, WGN, WLS, WCFL, WJJD, radio has served us well.

In appreciation to all who invented, improved, and enriched radio these thoughts: A beloved pilot of the airwaves always closed his show with these words: “Thanks for putting me on.”  More correctly, THANK YOU, the pleasure was ours!  

Tribute to Radio and the Pilots of The Airwaves will close with:

COMPANION

There are those who keep you in their heart,
a best friend that moved away,
a classmate you grew up with,
or a friendly radio voice.
Special people not only touch your life,
They touch your heart, mind, and spirit.
Doing so, they enrich you and become treasure.
Radio is a faithful companion
The Pilots of the Airwaves shared memorable moments,
and made memories along the way.
Their voices remind you that you are valued and appreciated.
Thanks for being there when it mattered.

APPENDIX        

Crosley Table Model Radio     Year: 1942    Model: 52TF
Zenith Console Radio              Year: 1937    Model 8S154

RADIO STATIONS:  AM  Dial Frequency Location          *  50,000 Watt Clear Channel
WIND         560      ---      Chicago, IL
* WGN          720      ---      Chicago, IL
*  WLS           890      ---      Chicago, IL 
WCFL         1000    ---      Chicago, IL
WJJD          1160    ---     Chicago, IL
WJOB         1230    ---     Hammond, IN
WWCA       1270    ---     Gary, IN

 On-Air Pilots of the Airwaves    50s, and  60s  PARTIAL LISTING
WIND:    Eddie Hubbard         Bernie Allen           Bert Wilson
Dick Williamson      Perry Marshall       Jack Quinlan
Lee Rogers                Bruce Lee                Dave Baum
Howard Miller          Kassidy                   Larry “The Legend” Johnson
Jim Lounsbury         Joel Sebastian          Ed Schwartz
Lynn Burton             Robert Morgan        Jay Trompeter
Milo Hamilton

 WGN:     Eddie Hubbard           Wally Phillips          Franklyn MacCormack
Roy Leonard               Spike O’Dell            Cathy O’Malley & Judy Markey
Steve King                  Jonni Putman          Ed Schwartz
Bill Berg                     Max Armstrong        Orion Samuelson
Bob Collins                Floyd Brown            Roger Triemstra
Tom Peterson              Larry Schreiner       Chuck Swirsky
David Kaplan              Dan Fabian              Ed Currin
Al Lerner                    Paul Harvey            John Williams
Pierre Andre                Bob Sirott                Jack Brickhouse

WLS:    Mort Crowley                   Clark Weber                Steve King
Jim Dunbar                      Sam Holman               Chuck “Henry” Bill
Gene Taylor                      Bob Hale                      Stubby Kay (Tom Fouts)
Dick Biondi                      Bernie Allen               Officer Vic Petrolis
Art Roberts                       Dex Card                      Martha Crane
Larry Lujack                     Tommy Edwards        Harvey Wittenberg
Ron Riley                          Fred Winston              Jerry Golden
Don Phillips                     Bob Sirott                     Jerry Mitchell
Lyle Dean                          Mort Crim
Note:    WLS Began New Contemporary Broadcast Format: May 2, 1960
First song played on WLS “Personality Radio” Alley Oop by The Hollywood Argyles

WCFL:    Jim Runyon                      Sid McCoy
Joel Sebastian                   Yvonne Daniels
Dick Williamson             Ron Riley
Jim Stagg                          Jerry G. Bishop
Ron Britain                      Larry Lujack

 WJJD:     Ernie Simon                        Del Clark
Cy Nelson                           Dick Elliot
Sid Roberts

 WJOB:    Steve King                          Larry Peterson               Harold Pennit

 WWCA:   Vivian Carter                    Dizzy Dixon                   Jerry Gerard
Jesse Copwood

 Note:  A number of  On-Air DJs worked at a variety of radio stations, their tenure is listed
accordingly.

References: 
The Sound of the City – The Rise of Rock and Roll  -  Charlie Gillett – 1970
Handbook of Old-Time Radio - Jon Swartz & Robert Reinedr  - 1993
Tune In Yesterday Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio 1925-1976 - John Dunning - 1976
Raised on Radio – Gerald Machman – 1998
The Hits Just Keep On Coming-The History of Top 40 Radio – Ben Fong-Torres - 1998

Top 40 DJs had their personal signature of creatively delivered quips, tags, alliterations, phrases, and nicknames that introduced, ended, closed, and identified their on-air persona.  Unique Radio names and air-checks were used to entice and enhance their time on the air.  What follows are examples of this repartee from the Golden Age of top 40 Disk Jockeys  

“This is your daddio of the radio, the platter-pshing papa, Pork the tork, the boss man, porkelating and getting you porkified wit my groove porkology!
--Porky Chadwick, WAMO-Pittsburh

“All right baby, this is Russ Knight, the weird beard, the savior  of Dallas radio, let me save you with music until midnight!
--Russ Knight, KLIF-Dallas

 “How are all you cream puffs and sponges out there?
--Vivian Carter, WWCA -Gary

“This is the Deacon speakin’   We’re playing mounds of sounds, and stacks of wax, going back-to-back without much yakety-yak, turning wax to gold, it never gets old!”
--Dizzy Dixon, WWCA, Gary

 “Welcome! We’re broadcasting live from the studio of DUMY---, W-DUMMY!  Located in the Switchblade Ballroom inside  the  Hotel Condemned’s, Hello Lounge.  We’re startin’ off the dancin’  with Joe Banana and his Band of Appeal. They’re not a bad bunch of guys, but they make a lot of slips!  -D-U-M-M-Y, where you don’t need a brain to ride the Rock ‘n’ Roll train.”
--Sock Hop Intro.  On location at a gymnasium near you!

Disk Jockey “Handles’ and Nicknames: (Note: a limited national sample)
Weird Beard,- Russ Knight, Woo Woo Winsberg, Cousin Brucie Morrow, Lucky Logan, Dick Biondi-The Wild I—tralian, Huntin’iHunter, Jumpin’ George Oxford, “The Geator with the Heater, Zenas “Daddy” Sears, Jocko Henderson, Howard “Uncle Moo Moo” Miller, Clarence “Poppa Stoppa” Hamman, “Big Daddy” Donahue, “Moon Dog,” Alan Freed, Murrray The K., Russ Moose-- “The Moose from Syracuse,” Joe “Rockin’ Bird” Niagra, Pete “Mad Daddy” Myers, Geroge “Hound Dog” Lorenz, Porky “Pork the Tork” Chedwick, Ken “Jack the Cat” Elliott,  and Robert “Wolfman Jack” Smith.