Jacksonville, Part 2

Over the weekend, I told everyone I was going to be on Rock 95. I told people on the street I didn’t know. I told the telephone pole. I called my folks and talked their ears off for an hour. I was pumped, psyched a revved up for the opportunity. Sleep wasn’t plentiful that weekend. Images of what it would be like filled my mind constantly. The only question I had was “could the earth rotate a little faster?” I don’t think I had ever looked so forward to a Tuesday in my life!


The big day came and I walked into the control room at the station ready for a lesson in how Rock 95 worked. I greeted clean cut looking Rich and he energetically pointed around the studio and said “there are the records and there’s the control board…rock and roll! I have to go!” Go? I asked in amazement. He had one more thing to add as he was halfway out the door. It was something that I kept in mind for a long time. “I believe in bringing myself down to my audience’s level, don’t forget that.” As quick as I met him, he was out the door with a stunning blonde girl and I was left to figure it out. The format was written out on a card near the controls, so I was able to gather a clue of what to do. Listening to the station as much as I did, gave me an additional idea of what was going on. Rock 95 played ABC contemporary news at 7:55, then at 8:00pm sharp it was my debut. I carefully placed my first album on the turntable where it took me a few tries to get the needle on the record. My hand was shaking so badly, I had to use both hands to steady the tone arm. I hoped no one would be watching me through the sound proof glass windows. This is what I had wanted so badly for so long. To be on a big city radio station was the holy grail at the end of a long road for me.



The newsman from the network in New York ended his newscast with “…I’m Joel Vaughn, for ABC Contemporary News.” Now, it was my turn. I reached way down and came up with my best announcer’s voice and proclaimed “ THIS is Rock 95, W-J-A-X, FM, Jacksonville” . I potted up (increased the volume) and hit the switch in one fluid motion for turntable number one on the left and was met with instant horror. Rich’s last song was a 45 RPM record on that turntable and I failed to notice that the speed selection was not correct when I placed a 33 and 1/3 RPM LP on the platter for play. I WAS PLAYING MY FIRST SONG ON THE WRONG SPEED! OH NO! My reaction was to grab the speed control lever and slam it down to the right speed. The record wowed from Mickey Mouse in distress to a more discernable Lynyrd Skynrd sound. I was horrified. My complexion felt like a sizzling red. The next thing I noticed was the request lines on the phone were lighting up like a Christmas tree. My career at Rock 95 might be over before it started. I squinted and pushed down the first line on the phone bank and a Tommy Chong sounding guy on the other end came on the speaker and marveled “wow…that was kind of cool, could you do that again?” At that moment, I settled down. Maybe this rock and roll thing wasn’t as serious as I had pumped myself up to believe. Maybe this is what Rich meant by “bringing yourself down to you audience’s level.” The WJAX-AM guy stuck his head in my studio next and quipped “looks like you got a baptism there Bud..” Yes I did.



In many ways, Rock 95 resembled the legendary Q-Sky in the movie “FM”. Management was the enemy, making us play US Army commercials and interfering with the integrity of what we, the Jocks felt was essential to the sound of a Rock station. Our social lives revolved around the station. People connected with the Rocker were constantly coming and going. We ALL went to personal appearances at clubs and concerts promoting Rock 95 together. Listeners sailed boats down the St. John’s River and held up bed sheets with requests for us to see from our vantage. For the 4th of July we played the ENTIRE Woodstock Concert Album, un-edited. I recall with a smile hearing the “Fish Cheer” at my apartment complex poolside in the courtyard. FCC? What FCC? That was mild, considering the night I played the Pope album by David Peel and The Lower East Side in its entirety. During that endearing broadcast, the afternoon guy called in and said "I can't believe what's coming out of my radio!" On another occasion, a guest in the studio accidently bumped into my turntable while I was playing “I Want You (She’s So Heavy) by the Beatles. I watched in what seemed like slow motion mortification as the needle on the record bounced up and then down three times on the vinyl before hitting the exact beginning of “Octopus’s Garden”. Instant Ringo. Wow. Too bad Tommy Chong wasn’t listening. He would have liked that one.


New Year’s Eve 1978 was my show. Everybody showed up and a party formed in the studio. One of the fellows brought in a couple of suitcases of liquor, comprising a mobile tavern, so there would be an open bar next to the records. Protocol? There wasn’t any protocol. Protocol was whatever was happening at the moment. There was Rock and Roll, and plenty of it. All the time. Big time acts came in for interviews. I remember being especially enamored by seeing Ann and Nancy Wilson from Heart. The guys from Uriah Heep were down to earth and cool. Henry Paul from the Outlaws put his arm around me and told me that he loved radio people. I actually met him again at a Country radio event almost exactly 20 years later and kidded him that it was 20 years between handshakes. Then there was the night that Patti Smith sat on Rich's lap for the interview. It was a heady time for 22 year old kid like me.