Port Arthur

The KPAC Staff Picture you have just seen was made at a Birthday Party for George Crouchet. George was our resident French envoy from Louisiana. He had previously been secretary to a Louisiana Senator. He was hearng impaired, but had tremendous vocal talents. He was the morning announcer, before the title "Drive TimeDeejay" had been applied. He is the gentleman in the black shirt with bow tie. Behind him, with the bug, bug buggy eyes, focusing on the cake, is Gordon Baxter. Gordon was the most acclaimed radio talent in the Golden Triangle.

Someone told me that when Gordon was ready for a job change, he would sing his version of "Old Buttermilk Sky". Now, I've never heard this rendition, and think I am well advised not to chase down the lyrics. But this was a very successful device for Gordon, and he always had another station waiting to claim his talents, along with his devoted following of area sponsors. Wherever Gordon went, the sponsors followed. He never worried. He had money, because he never spent anything for shoes. No telling how much he stashed away by avoiding shoes. He worked barefoot. He has a reputation as a car buff. But I've never seen him riding anything but a bicycle.

Everything Gordon Baxter did was special. One night I came on shift and found a gift box on my desk. Inside was a hand painted tie. Gordon, the artist, had painted it. With it was a small card with the message: "Al, I really need to be off for my weekend shift. Could you please handle it for me?",signed Gordon. Who could resist? He just had a natural talent for winning everyone he met. It was that personal one-on-one approach that won Gordon Baxter lifelong fans. And I will always be one. Gordon is a couple of months older than I, but we both look much better than we are, and a lot better than we should. Our odometers have turned over many times, and "our warranty has done run out."

Others in the picture, and I apologize for not being able to recall all the names, but after 56 years, I think I did fairly well on this picture. I am truly sorry for this lapse, because each of the people on the staff meant so much to me, and did so much for me. Left to right in the previous photo is "Rena...from Mena, Arkansas", the receptionist. Glenn Boatright, the stations Chief Engineer, then our talented copywriter, whose name escapes me. Next to her, standing in front of this writer, is our Music Director. On the back row, next to me, is Marjorie Vickers, Assistant Manager. The next lady is another engineer, Mary, and in my memory, never a sweeter person to work with . Then the Manager, John Loftis, next to Gordon Baxter. And finally, George Crouchet, the Birthday Boy. In front of the cake, two interns, who transported copy back and forth from desk to desk, and from control room to the studios. There were 21 people on the staff.

While setting up the picture for this story, I remembered the name of the all-request program. The title, not very original, but certainly descriptive, was: "Sit Up and Listen." It was on the air from Midnight till two a.m. Sunday through Friday. And the theme song was the swinging "Apple Honey", a Woody Herman hit. I can hear it still. About half of the employed people in the Beaumont-Pt. Arthur area were shift workers in those years. And it seemed that at least half the population was awake during those hours. We received over a hundred phone calls each night, and cards and letters galore. And we ate well. Fans were always bringing in a dessert or specialty dish for the three of us on duty. I just won't leave this out: I will never foget a shrimp dish prepared by Mr. Angell from the pharmacy near Pt. Arthur College. To this day, I compare any shrimp I am served, with that superior shrimp he prepared and hand delivered to the station that summer night in 1946.

"Sit up and listen?"

There was a place, so paramount in my memory, for the all-time, world class, outta site musical experience of my life. And when I tell you where it was, you'll probably die with a laughing fit. You have now been warned. Are you ready for this? It was Port Arthur, Texas. While you dial 9-1-1, I'll make my case. When you work around radio stations for forty-plus years, music just becomes part of your every waking hour. Formats in the days-of-old, dictated variety. That meant classical to novelty. I've heard songs like "The Worm that Loved the

Let's talk about Port Arthur. A lot of great talent came soaring to the top of the music charts from the Golden Triangle: Janis Joplin, The Big Bopper, Harry James, George Jones, and the famous "Minnie Moore". I had an all-request show on KPAC in Port Arthur, my first job after World War Two. I used to fake requests for "Minnie Moore" to sing her all time favorite, "One More Time." Well, I just never got around to playing that all-time hit, but night after night, I promised that various guests were coming on the show, and would always add to the list, the all-time number one super star of the day, the erstwhile "Minnie Moore." It worked so well that we were getting several requests every night for "One More Time" by Minnie Moore. I tried the same ploy when I came back to Lufkin, but only one friend picked up on it. Guess it was a Port Arthur thing. To get right to the point, Port Arthur had one of the finest entertainment facilities on the Texas Coast in it's Pleasure Pier. Guess I've danced several hundred miles on that huge pavilion floor. The really, really big bands and entertainers were there every week. Tommy Dorsey, Harry James, DukeEllington, Tex Beneke, Stan Kenton, singing groups like the "Ink Spots" and some of the most acclaimed song spinners of that era. Little bands, too. And my favorite was Clyde McCoy, the man who played ''Sugar Blues." I did interviews on KPAC with some of these entertainers at 6:15 p.m., on a show designed to promote the stars who were entertaining each evening at the Pleasure Pier. I grew to really like Clyde McCoy. He and his wife were on the showone evening and I told them about an all night broadcast we were doing the following Saturday night. They were playing at the Pier each night that week, and Clyde volunteered to come in Saturday night (or Sunday Morning) following the show to help us raise money for the Food Drive. Well, he not only came, he brought along a miniature trumpet, one that he could play well. He played the little horn on the show that night, then auctioned his teeny, tiny trumpet and gave the proceeds to the show. We raised over $2,000.00, and it would have been a very big help to the community food drive, except for the fact that our manager absconded with the proceeds. There was an ad in Broadcasting Magazine for several months with a reward seeking the whereabouts of that uncouth radio executive. If I didn't fear retribution, I would do a little story on the unsavory souls that were attracted to the broadcasting business. Most of them have already served their time, and perhaps it would be like "piling on." Well, Port Arthur was a musical experience, and it was fun passing that way.

Musicians take a licking, but keep on picking. They get some pretty heavy flak for their reputed lifestyles, but those I have met over the years, were really gentle people with strange hours. I would like to introduce a friendly musician to you at this time. Meet "Pee Wee" Duff. Say "Who?" Well, his real name is Arliegh Duff. He is about 5' 10" or less, maybe 5' 5", and he was an all-state basketball star from Nederland, Texas. "Pee Wee" also wrote the song, "Ya'll Come." Now that was about 1948 or 1949, when he was attending Stephan F. Austin State University in Nacogdoches. He was a roommate of the late Oliver McKay, SFA star running back from Lufkin. "Pee Wee" enjoyed instant stardom with "Ya'll Come" and his singing talent. He and I first met when we were the first students to enroll in Lamar College, in Beaumont. We entered as electrician trainees to prepare for work in Pennsylvania Shipyard in 1943. After his music career, "Pee Wee" Duff became a disc jockey in Austin and Colorado Springs, Colorado. Believe he ended up in broadcasting in New England.

At the end of World War Two, I entered Pt. Arthur College to study Electronic Theory and Radio Annoucing. I had applied for a job with KPAC, but they were fully staffed, and promised to give me a chance if an opening occurred. They auditioned me at that time, and gave me some commercials and news copy to read. Then, after about five minutes into that test, the manager opened the door to the booth and said, "Now, Vinson, just talk about anything that comes to mind for the next five minutes, you know, ad lib." Whoooeee!!! Try that sometime. It so happened I had been to the Pleasure Pier the night before. I was impressed, so I just talked about my night at the Pier, and what a great asset it was for Pt. Arthur. Not so hard, except, my old friend from Lufkin, John Reagan Harris, the engineer had pasted his face to the control room window, looking directly at me and performed every contorted monkey face he could imagine. I still remember it as the "Twilight Zone" audition.

About two weeks later, I was called out of class one morning, and told they needed to see me at once at the KPAC offices. On arrival, I was advised that two of thier announcers were out with the flu, and the announcer on duty had a bee sting from the day before, and his eye was swollen shut. He had to be relieved right away. They wanted me to go on the air at twelve noon, just twenty minutes from that moment. I was told the first show was a live thirty minute studio broadcast with Moon Mullican and his band, with guest star Tex Ritter. It was going to be a baptism of fire for me. I hadn't been on the air for two years, and never as an emcee for a live show. it was a spooky way to start, and I was spooked. They gave me a twenty minute crash course in the stations format, station break policy, station slogans and a too short lecture on self-confidence. I went on live, and in person and in shock at high noon. Moon spotted my panic in the first five minutes, and at the end of the first song, began talking with me on the air, welcoming me to KPAC and introducing the boys in the band. They all gave me a big "Howdy, Al", and I was back in the saddle again. By the time Tex Ritter came in at 12:15, I was a veteran with the station. Things went smoothly, with some dead air here and there, until two o'clock the following morning, when the station signed off. The Star Spangled Banner was never so beautiful. And if you don't mind one more cliche', "alls well that ends well," and I was given a permanent job. We won't dwell on the bloopers I commited in that long 14-hour shift, and I guess the powers that ran the station either hadn't noticed or were very forgiving. Best of all, I was called on to work the Moon Mullican Show several times.

That was a fun station, working with people like Gordon Baxter, George Croucet and the man who made the monkey face, John Reagan Harris, one of the stations three engineers. John was an old classmate at Lufkin High School, and a budding electronic genius. We called him Archimedes in school. And, I can't avoid this one story about the days, and nights, I worked with John. Sunday was a long shift for me. It began at noon and extended to midnight, when we signed off. John Reagan was spinning the records in the control room, and I announced from a large studio. One Sunday night at eleven o'clock, we had a fifteen minute program that was on a large 16-inch transcription disc. The program was called "Guest Star", and was supplied by the U.S. Treasury Department to sell government bonds. It featured some of the country's leading entertainers. When the program began, John Reagan came on the intercom saying, "I'm going to rest while this is on, be sure to call me before the program runs out." Well, you guessed it. We both went to sleep. The phone startled us both at 11:45 p.m. It was a professer from the college, and he knew what that sound was when he tuned in. A transcription in the end groove makes a sound, "klunk, klunk, klunk". and that klunking sound was the only sound on KPAC that night, for thirty minutes. The professor was apparently our only listener.