Superior writing! As a seasoned supporter, this brings back memories of me getting dressed for school tuning into Hey now Larry Brody on WPDQ, years later getting my son ready for school listening to Tom Joyner morning show, and now sharing The Rickey Smiley morning show with my 10 yr old goddaughter. Radio brings us ALL together to make lasting memories! We all remember good and not so good things by songs. Music helps us cope with the day to day!
You get it—radio isn’t just background noise, it’s a time capsule. The voices, the songs, the rhythm of morning routines—they mark our days and tie generations together. Love that you’re passing that tradition on!
I actually remember exactly where I was and where I was going when Marvin Gaye died. I was on my way to school. My mom looked completely distraught as the radio host announced it, as if we’d lost a relative. Radio had always played a huge role in our lives. KACE would host our block parties; KJLH is not too far from where I grew up. The best memory is going to KDAY in high school to do the countdown. I even had my own radio show on KPFK for a few years. Thank you for reminding me of the power of radio and its continued importance, especially now.
What a history—lived through the airwaves. Radio isn’t just something we listen to; it listens back, holds our stories, marks our losses, and lifts our joys. Love that you’ve been on both sides of the mic. That connection is exactly why radio still matters.
This story recalled my memories of NY metro-area radio from the 1970s, when WBLS, with Frankie Crocker at the helm, was the hottest Black station in town. I lived in North Jersey at the time, and there was also the "pirate" radio station WSOU pumping funk and shit that made my head explode. I distinctly remember hearing, for the first time, George Clinton's Knee Deep on WSOU in 1979.
WBLS under Frankie Crocker set the blueprint—he curated a whole vibe, making radio bigger than music. It was culture, style, discovery. And those pirate stations? Unlicensed, underground stations that played what mainstream radio wouldn’t, often breaking artists before the industry caught up. They gave communities a sound that truly belonged to them. That first listen to Knee Deep on WSOU must’ve been electric. Appreciate you sharing this history—these are the stories that keep the legacy alive.
We were headed to visit a friend that day and upon arrival we shared the news of Marvin Gaye’s passing. I still remember no one believed us and it become a conversation that evening among the adults. Thank you for sharing and allowing the reflections of that day.
Marvin’s music continues to pull at the heart. When we heard the news of his passing, it hit like a shockwave, testament to how deeply his work had been etched into the fabric of our lives. Even as a child, I sensed the weight of that loss, the quiet shift in the air. His legacy remains, resonating in ways words can’t capture. Thank you for sharing that memory.
I loved this piece because I think we can all relate to remembering a time when a moment in history changed our lives forever, even if we did not know those invloved persoaally, but it becomes personal as now it is one of our stories.
Indeed. The moments that shift history have a way of imprinting themselves on us, becoming part of our own story, even if we weren’t directly involved. I’m so glad this piece resonated with you—thank you for sharing.
Wow. In sharing this history you captured the power of Black radio—I love the idea of a place with no walls. When I tune into WBLS (NYC) tomorrow, I’ll be carrying your piece with me. Thank you!
That means so much—thank you. Black radio has always been more than a frequency; it’s a gathering place, a force that moves through us. Love that you’ll be tuning in with this in mind.
Superior writing! As a seasoned supporter, this brings back memories of me getting dressed for school tuning into Hey now Larry Brody on WPDQ, years later getting my son ready for school listening to Tom Joyner morning show, and now sharing The Rickey Smiley morning show with my 10 yr old goddaughter. Radio brings us ALL together to make lasting memories! We all remember good and not so good things by songs. Music helps us cope with the day to day!
You get it—radio isn’t just background noise, it’s a time capsule. The voices, the songs, the rhythm of morning routines—they mark our days and tie generations together. Love that you’re passing that tradition on!
I actually remember exactly where I was and where I was going when Marvin Gaye died. I was on my way to school. My mom looked completely distraught as the radio host announced it, as if we’d lost a relative. Radio had always played a huge role in our lives. KACE would host our block parties; KJLH is not too far from where I grew up. The best memory is going to KDAY in high school to do the countdown. I even had my own radio show on KPFK for a few years. Thank you for reminding me of the power of radio and its continued importance, especially now.
What a history—lived through the airwaves. Radio isn’t just something we listen to; it listens back, holds our stories, marks our losses, and lifts our joys. Love that you’ve been on both sides of the mic. That connection is exactly why radio still matters.
This story recalled my memories of NY metro-area radio from the 1970s, when WBLS, with Frankie Crocker at the helm, was the hottest Black station in town. I lived in North Jersey at the time, and there was also the "pirate" radio station WSOU pumping funk and shit that made my head explode. I distinctly remember hearing, for the first time, George Clinton's Knee Deep on WSOU in 1979.
Great story, Khalilah!
WBLS under Frankie Crocker set the blueprint—he curated a whole vibe, making radio bigger than music. It was culture, style, discovery. And those pirate stations? Unlicensed, underground stations that played what mainstream radio wouldn’t, often breaking artists before the industry caught up. They gave communities a sound that truly belonged to them. That first listen to Knee Deep on WSOU must’ve been electric. Appreciate you sharing this history—these are the stories that keep the legacy alive.
We were headed to visit a friend that day and upon arrival we shared the news of Marvin Gaye’s passing. I still remember no one believed us and it become a conversation that evening among the adults. Thank you for sharing and allowing the reflections of that day.
Marvin’s music continues to pull at the heart. When we heard the news of his passing, it hit like a shockwave, testament to how deeply his work had been etched into the fabric of our lives. Even as a child, I sensed the weight of that loss, the quiet shift in the air. His legacy remains, resonating in ways words can’t capture. Thank you for sharing that memory.
I loved this piece because I think we can all relate to remembering a time when a moment in history changed our lives forever, even if we did not know those invloved persoaally, but it becomes personal as now it is one of our stories.
Indeed. The moments that shift history have a way of imprinting themselves on us, becoming part of our own story, even if we weren’t directly involved. I’m so glad this piece resonated with you—thank you for sharing.
Wow. In sharing this history you captured the power of Black radio—I love the idea of a place with no walls. When I tune into WBLS (NYC) tomorrow, I’ll be carrying your piece with me. Thank you!
That means so much—thank you. Black radio has always been more than a frequency; it’s a gathering place, a force that moves through us. Love that you’ll be tuning in with this in mind.