Taking a Break

I am about to go away for a couple of weeks. As we pack and look forward to the time away, I remember what it was like to leave town when “Celebration Rock” was at its peak. It’s a lot easier now.

Back then, in the early 1980’s for example, taking a break for vacation or even just a week-long conference meant a week of hell and always one last late night, or all-night session before boarding plane or train. I wasn’t the most organized person on the planet or even in the room. I told people that I worked best under pressure. I also worked worst under pressure. So, with time off looming a week or so ahead, I would realize that not only did I have an extra week or two (or more?!) of “Celebration Rock” to produce and send off for duplication and mailing… I also had two or three or four weekly local radio programs to pre-tape and deliver.

While I may not have had many organizational skills, I was afflicted with a work ethic that demanded new shows every week, and not a back-up of reruns to fill time slots. (I used reruns quite reluctantly, until “Celebration Rock” had run its course, and when I began depending more on reruns than new material, I knew it was time to let the program end.) To my discredit, I also had failed to train or recruit anyone to sub for me. I would have had to initiate someone into the philosophy of each program, check them out in the studio, make lots of lists (ugh), and grade their theology exams. It was easier to do it myself.

Until hell week. I’d limit appointments that week, look for CR themes and music, produce and edit CR, and contact the syndication folk to let them know master tapes were on the way. Then I’d handle the WBBL Sunday night show (where, thankfully, I did have co-producers and hosts), and I’d plan and produce the WRVA show called “Sunday Morning,” taping enough programs to cover my time away. If Bob Edwards and I were still doing “Religion in the News,” I knew he could do the show solo, and I had co-hosts for the weekly public radio jazz show. (But when I moved to the weekly two-hour “Jazz Brunch” on WEZS/WMXB, I was strictly on my own. Since I was being paid per program, I avoided reruns since I wouldn’t “bill” for those.)

The work always got done. No one was ever left without something  to fill their air with, as far as I know. But sometimes it was close. I recall at least two times that I went to the WBBL studio the night before taking AMTRAK south to a conference in Fort Lauderdale, and having finally finished taping several programs, I’d sleep on the floor of the studio for a couple of hours, praying that I’d hear the alarm and get to the train.

[My wife just reminded me of the many vacations we began by loading kids and luggage in the car, checking maps, and then driving my tapes to the post office and the radio station circuit. (“Um, before we get started, Hon, I need to go to the main post office and then to WRVA. It won’t take long, and then we’ll be on our way!!” I’m surprised I’ve lived to tell about that.)

Now, in retirement, on the eve of this trip west, all I have to do is charge the camcorder and cell phone, let my email correspondents know that I’ll be out of touch for awhile, and find my sunglasses.

And write this blog.

A Young Man’s Journey, Part Two

She called back.

I don’t recall how long it took for her to think this through, but she called me and said that she’d be open to a meeting with this young man whom she had not seen since his birth. She told me her story, far more of his story than he knew.  I do not share it here, for it is their story, not ours. It is enough to say that she had not married his biological father, and for good reason. Many good reasons.

But she was married now, and had young teen-aged children. Her husband knew her secret, but the children didn’t, and wouldn’t, so far as it was in her power to keep that part of her life hidden from them. So of course, she set some strict guidelines for her first meeting with her first child. I suggested a living room on the campus where I worked, a neutral setting that offered hospitality but also confidentiality. She and I and the young man agreed that this arrangement was for one meeting only, a few minutes of conversation, some answers for the son she had given to another couple. She was making no commitment beyond that. The young man was ecstatic. Yet he knew that he might very well walk away from that meeting and never see her again. He ached for more.

My dear friend Judy, also a minister, was in on that meeting, for it was to be held in her space on campus. With the permission of both the young man and his biological mother, I had confided just enough information to Judy that she understood how important the meeting was, and how sequestered the living room was to be.

The day arrived. The young man came to my studio, showed me his scribbled notes, and asked for my feedback on the questions he planned to ask. Judy called from her office and said “our guest” had arrived. The youth and I walked to Judy’s building, and with adrenalin rushing, we walked quickly. Judy opened the door and ushered us in; then she graciously moved away from the scene to let me make the first introductions. It was quite a moment. As the two of them gazed at each other, I left the room, closed the door, and returned to my office in another building.

Some time later (I don’t recall at all how long), the young man came into my studio and poured out the details of the meeting. It had gone very well. But there were no further meetings planned. His birth mother, he said, would call me to initiate any further contact. But he now knew the story of his birth and the reasons for his adoption.

Judy and I debriefed the day.  Judy spoke of her time with the anxious (not eager) guest as they waited for the young man’s appearance. And Judy shared what she knew of their parting. I thanked her for offering her hospitality under very unusual circumstances. We agreed that no one had taught us how to do this in seminary. We moved on to the routine of our work thinking that we had done a good thing indeed.

Here is the rest of the story. I believe there may have been only two or three more face-to-face meetings between the young man and the woman who gave him birth. She had been fascinated at first with his physical resemblance to his biological father, but beyond that initial meeting, she made clear that this young man was not to harbor any hope of establishing a closer relationship to her, and certainly not with her family. Before long, she asked him to not contact her again.

He confessed to me that he was still driving by her home, and that he had stopped by her husband’s office under false pretenses (without the husband’s knowing who he was talking with). I warned him that his behavior was unacceptable. More than mere curiosity now, he told me that he had fantasized just going up to her front door and introducing himself to her children, so they would know “the truth.” He imagined that forcing his way into their lives might have a good ending. I assured him that that couldn’t be further from the reality of the situation.

His birth mother was by now frightened that her children would discover the truth and feel betrayed by their parents’ secret. When the young man made another effort to speak with her, she grew understandably angry and told him there would be serious consequences if he ever called her again. She also asked me to make that clear to him.

In subsequent conversations with this young man, I listened to his anguish, but sympathized with his birth mother’s situation. “It feels as if I’ve been rejected by her a second time,” he told me. I tried to help him understand her feelings. She is trying her best to keep her family safe, and to stay on the journey she chose during a very difficult time many years ago. After many months, perhaps a year or so, there were fewer references to his disappointment that things hadn’t worked out as he had hoped.

Then, we lost touch for awhile, his life taking a new path. Later, he fell in love, and asked if I would co-officiate with his fiancee’s pastor at their wedding. I met with that young couple and was very glad to have a part in the celebration of their vows. He invited me to their apartment once some time later, I suspect so that I would see him as a responsible “grown-up,” a husband, and, it turns out, a father-to-be. I went back after the baby’s birth and was relieved that there was no mention of his past pain and disappointment. His only request of me that evening: an aircheck of some work he had done on the radio so his daughter would know something of her father’s youth.

But the pain was still there. Pain, smothered by alcohol, leading to, or a symptom of depression. I had left Richmond by then, and heard about the end of his marriage by long distance. There was a custody battle of some sort. And then Judy called with news of the young man’s death. A security guard, he had carried a gun. And drank. And hurt. And hurt many of us. Families and friends.

I wrote to his mother, the one who had loved and nurtured him from his infancy, who had struggled with him through awkward adolescence (I know, because he had told me many stories…), and who had no doubt questioned why he had been so resolute in trying to connect with a family not his own. I told her  that I was terribly sad. For her. And for all of us who had hoped for so much more. I also admitted that I was angry with him for what he had done.

Why include this story in this blog?  I was privileged to walk alongside many youth and young adults through the years that “Celebration Rock” was on the air.  Some of us whose ministries of faith, love, and grace reached out through broadcast media far beyond church walls learned to become listeners ourselves. We were not in the business of watching ratings, but of listening to our audience, being always aware of the journeys we share. Along the way, every one of us encounters pain, joy, occasions of hope and celebration, as well as times of despair and confusion. I eventually discovered that some within the sound of my voice have followed paths to their own ministries, or their own music, or to vocations where their considerable gifts made a difference. But there were others whose stories did not end well. We must value their lives too. And learn from them.

And keep faith that the Lord is our Shepherd in life and death, and every path has a purpose.

A Young Man’s Journey

[I write this entry very carefully, choosing to tell a significant story, but also wanting to keep a confidence. Those who have known me well for many years may recognize the young man about whom I write, but for the general reader the details must remain veiled.]

I had known him since his early adolescence. Like a number of youth in the Richmond area, he knew my radio program, assumed from my voice and on-air persona that I would be friendly and welcoming, and based on that assumption, he called me one day to ask about seeing the studio and watching me work. He soon became a volunteer of sorts, and more than just hanging around the confines of the church studio where I produced “Celebration Rock” and my other weekly radio programs, he took an active role in helping with production.

Early on in a kind of mentor-protege relationship, he showed me evidence of his love for radio. I still have it somewhere: a picture from the Richmond newspaper of this boy working his paper route, pushing a shopping cart full of newspapers, and wearing a huge set of headphones, a radio headset tuned to a local rock station.

It was a few years later that he came to my studio to show me something else, a sheet of paper that would change his life, and have a dramatic impact on mine. I had known that he had been adopted as a baby, but if he had known any details of the circumstances of his birth and adoption, he didn’t share that with me. He had expressed now and then some curiosity about his biological parents but he didn’t dwell on it. His adoptive parents had divorced at some point during his childhood, and he lived with the only mother he had ever known. I remember his speaking of his out-of-town father, and even enjoying an occasional visit with him. When the boy, by this time in his late teens (or a bit older?), came to the studio with that single, wrinkled piece of photocopied paper, it was evident that he was far more than curious about his birth parents.

He had somehow secured a copy of his adoption record, and though some lines had been censored, obscured with thick black marker, he had been able to decipher enough information that his detective work led him to the name of a local woman he believed to be his biological mother. And he was asking me to call her. He wanted me to initiate a meeting, if she admitted she had given birth to a boy on a certain date, had “given him up for adoption,” and if, of course, she would agree to meet that boy.

I didn’t say yes right away. I had many questions. How did his mom feel about all this? What was I getting myself into legally? Suppose the woman he was asking me to call took this as accusation  instead of invitation?  I told the young man I had to think this over. I wanted to talk with his mom. And call an attorney. It may have been as early as that evening that I called my friend Dick, a lawyer I knew through a weekly men’s group we were in.  Dick asked the right questions of me, and finally advised that there would be little or no liability if I were to speak to the woman on the young man’s behalf. I would be serving as his pastor, and if I handled the call in a sensitive way, the conversation might be unsettling, to say the least, but not a legal risk.

The boy’s mother told me that she knew her son was on this quest, and that while she didn’t have positive feelings about the search, she loved him and wouldn’t stand in his way. We’ve talked, she said, and he’s told me that he loves me as his mother, but he wants to know his own story.

So, with the young man providing me with a name, telephone number, and even an address… I made the call. I had written out a script, to be sure my words were thoughtfully precise. I prayed. I dialed. And she answered the phone.

“Hello, I’m Jeff Kellam. I’m a Presbyterian minister, and…”

“Oh, hi Jeff!” Lord, she knew me! She didn’t just know who I was, from the radio. She had met me at her church one Sunday night when I spoke to her church’s youth group. She explained all that. And then asked, as if this were a friendly casual call, “What can I do for you?”

I looked down at my scripted words. I had to edit them. Was the conversation going to be more difficult now? Or, did we just establish an atmosphere of trust, my credibility and her curiosity. “Well, this is a very sensitive situation. A young man has asked me to contact you. He was born on__________ in ________, Virginia. He was adopted as an infant, and has become interested in finding his birth parents. He has run across some information that he believes might indicate that you are the person he’s been looking for. I know this is not the call you expected to receive today, but I’m wondering what your response is?”

Those weren’t my exact words, of course. I’ve lost the script. But I remember very well the pause that came in our conversation. A long pause. And then a very quiet response: “Yes, I might know something about that.” It’s been many years, but I recall that the phone conversation ended fairly soon. I assured the woman that our conversation would be held in the strictest confidence. She had my word as a minister. And I also assured her that the young man wanted nothing more than a confirmation, but did desire, at some point, if and when she was OK with it (not necessarily “comfortable” with it), he would like to meet her. For one thing, he wanted to know about the health histories of his biological parents. And anything else she would be willing to share.

It was only after that phone call that the young man told me that he had already driven by the woman’s home, and that he knew where her husband worked, and who her children were, and where they went to school. He wasn’t stalking the family, but once he had some basic information, he said he couldn’t help but act on his deep curiosity about… everything. I strongly cautioned him to stay away from their neighborhood, and to wait for the woman to make the next move. We have just made a call she will never forget, I told him. We need to respect her privacy. If she calls me back and says that she has no interest in any further contact, we have no choice but to let that be her final answer. Understand?

[to be continued…]

Celebrating Sexuality, circa 1979

Once upon a time, there was a magazine called “Youth.” And a radio program for youthful audiences called “Celebration Rock.” The editor of “Youth” Magazine was Herman C. Ehrens, Jr. I don’t recall how our paths first crossed, but I suspect it had something to do with the fact that he was a youth ministry specialist in the United Church of Christ, and I was gaining a reputation (of some sort) as a youth ministry leader in the Presbyterian Church.

 

 When I discovered “Youth” Magazine, I promoted it to my “Celebration Rock” listeners, even offering free copies to those who wrote. The issues were filled with solid articles for and about youth, and included youth-submitted poetry, prose, and art. When Herman discovered my radio program, he assigned Kathy Meacham Legerton, the magazine’s managing editor, to interview me about CR at the Montreat Conference Center where Kathy and I happened to be attending a meeting.

 

 Kathy asked me for a sample tape so she could get an idea of what the show sounded like, so I chose a recent program I had done with a seminary classmate of mine, the Rev. Dodie Rossell. The show was a two-part series on adolescent sexuality. It seems to me that Herman had encouraged that move, as a cagey way to tell my radio story, but to include Dodie’s right-on comments about sex. “Youth” Magazine readers would get two articles in one that way.

 

I had also been working as a youth minister at Richmond’s Grace Covenant Presbyterian Church about that time, so I asked a member there, a professional photographer Phil Coltrain, to take the photos we’d submit for the article. It turned out to be a nine page spread in the January 1979 issue. Here is how Kathy started the article:

 

 The dial is set.

The sound is rock.

The beat hits hard. The rhythm is punctuated with clapping hands. An acoustic guitar swells.

A strong voice over the music announces, “This is Jeffrey Stan­ton Kellam with Celebration Rock. On this program we’re going to celebrate sex.” A slight pause. “I figured you’d be inter­ested.”

Brass blasts into a chorus of voices shouting “Shame!” and a solo female voice responding with a pleading song about love and shame. Then, when the song fades into its ending, the disc jockey comments, “That’s the music of Evelyn Champaign King. Blame shame on love? Why? More likely to be blaming shame on sex. Why are shame, sex and love so interconnected? Well, we’ll celebrate sex, in spite of its shame, on this Celebration Rock program.”

The music picks up again and the D.J. introduces the next number. For an hour, the radio program is music and talk inter­spersed.

“Most of us would agree that sex is a good gift of God,” says the D.J. “We’ll also agree that God’s people have had a hard time agreeing on sex-oriented issues. And so, for the next few minutes, we’re exploring the area of human sexuality in music and conversation. After all, there’s already a lot of words and music on the air about sex, but we’re dealing with it as if it’s a good gift and not a dirty word. Our guest is Dodie Rossell.”

Ms. Rossell is an ordained Pres­byterian minister who is the de­signer-director of the Virginia Institute for Adolescent Counsel­ing and Training in Norfolk, Va. She works with young people who seek counsel and informa­tion concerning personal prob­lems, especially in the area, of human sexuality.

The discussion that follows between disc jockey Kellam and counselor Rossell deals with a variety of ideas. For example, it’s important for young people to think through in advance where they stand on values and what they can and cannot handle in their relationships with others. Genuine closeness happens be­tween two people when they can verbalize their feelings toward one another instead of fumbling around awkwardly. Maturity is revealed when one can take responsibility for one’s own be­havior. Get correct information about your sexual questions. Although God intended the gift of sex to be good, sex can be abused, misused, exploited, or dehumanized. Lyrics to some songs today are misleading about sex and love.

In between hearing these thoughts, the radio listener hears music by Quincy Jones, the Com­modores, Eric Clapton, Melissa Manchester, Laura Nyro, Rod Stewart, Exile, and excerpts from a Woody Allen album—all con­tributing to the discussion on love and sex.

 

For example, in response to Rod Stewart’s “Tonight’s the Night,” Jeff Kellam summarizes: “It’s a saga of a chauvinist out to win the prize, even if it means cheating or manipulating or treat­ing the woman as a thing rather than a person. . . . Sex is an expression of love, not an act of aggression.”

 

“To be macho,” concludes Ms. Rossell, “means to be the con­troller and no one wants to be controlled all the time. . . . When sex is anything that has to be proven, no one is going to have a healthy relationship.”

 

In its more than ten years on the air, the radio program, “Celebra­tion Rock,” has matured under the guidance of Jeff Kellam, an ordained minister, who started the program while attending sem­inary in Richmond, Va. Originally a “gimmick” to attract teenagers to religion, the program has become a professional produc­tion aimed at youth, young adults and college students. It has received honors both from Bill­board Magazine, the national publication of the entertainment industry, and from the National Catholic Association for Broad­casters.

 

 While being recorded and broadcast in Richmond, the pro­gram is also aired Sundays on stations along, the East Coast from Jeff’s hometown of Bing­hamton, N.Y., to Tampa, Fla., plus St. Cloud, Minn., and other towns in Virginia, West Virginia, North Carolina, Georgia, and Pennsyl­vania.

 

The format of the show varies. Some weeks, Top 40 music is woven into an audio/montage where music is the message. Other weeks particular albums are featured, exploring the lyric poetry of musicians like Judy Collins, Simon and Garfunkel, Dave Mason, Janis Ian, or Dan Fogleberg. Special guests have included Harry Chapin, Phoebe Snow, Leo Sayer, Seals and Crofts, and Kenny Loggins.

 

Still other shows feature per­sons who are making life a celebration for people with spe­cial needs: a dance therapist who works with the handicapped; a couple from the Koinonia Farm in Americus, Ga., who work with the poor; a Washington, D.C., pastor who is working for handgun control legislation; an 84-year-old woman who travels each week­end to speak to youth and church groups about keeping faith new; and a wife and husband who are living with cancer.

 

 Jeff considers an important part of his ministry to be his personal visits to youth groups three Sunday evenings a month. He welcomes such interaction.

 

 It was odd for me to be on the other side of the microphone as Kathy taped the interview. She did a great job distilling long conversations into a few pages. It was one of the few times CR drew any national attention. So I got lots of copies to send home to my parents! 

And Finally, the End of the List, But Not of the Line

Here is the last listing of “Celebration Rock” programs that remain in my CD library, having been dubbed, some more successfully than others, from the reel-to-reel master tapes.

Even as I look through this alphabetical list, I realize there are some specific programs missing. They may yet be found on cassette, or in some unlabeled box. For example, the interviews with members of Lynyrd Skynyrd. And where’s the 10th anniversary show? I have the 9th and the 20th! I remember a terrific show based on interviews with people connected with an organization called Wilderness Odyssey. The music on that program was all about the wild forests, mountain trails, and majestic skies of Creation. I kept the interview master, but not the finished program. I can’t find my Harry Chapin show, the one with the interview I referred to many blogs ago. (I do have another Chapin program on world hunger, with an interview someone else did…but not my own.) I based a program on the Supertramp “Breakfast in America” album, and liked the way it came together…but it’s gone.

On the other hand, some of the programs I do  have turned out to be less inspiring than I remembered. I played the Styx “Paradise Theatre” album on CR once, and, because I’m a fan of old movie palaces, I had fond memories of that album and the show I built around it. But when I transferred it to CD and listened for the first time in many years, I was disappointed. It wasn’t the show I thought it was.

Well, here’s the end of the list…for now, including any info listed on the CD label (program number, date, etc.):

• Queen
• Rain (A Celebration of Trust)
• The Rev. Ms. Dodie Rossell on Adolescent Sexuality (Parts 1 & 2)
• The Sea  #772, rerun in May 1989
• Seals and Crofts (interview), #84
• Season’s Greetings, Christmas album by Larry Bland and Steve Bassett
• Seeking Love…and God, #547 (8/13/78)
• Silence (interview with J.A. Ross MacKenzie), #785
• Simon and Garfunkel, #759
• Grace Slick, the Dreams album
• Personal Favorites (songs with personal meaning to me) #606 (9/79)
• Phoebe Snow, interview
• Solitude and Silence, #444
• Star Trek Convention
• Cat Stevens Retrospective (3/88)
• Noel Paul Stookey in Concert, with interview, #568 (1/79)
• Strangers
• Street Scenes, #646 (7/14/80)
• Styx, Paradise Theatre
• Sunset Grill (2/86)
• Take 6 (4/89)
• John Michael Talbot, Heart of the Shepherd (8/87)
• James Taylor, That’s Why I’m Here, #841
• Time (Part 2) (For some reason, I have trouble holding on to Part One tapes!)
• Three Dog Night Retrospective, #753 (rerun in June 1989)
• 20 Years of Love and Music (8/88) [20th Anniversary CR special]
• Suzanne Vega, Solitude Standing (10/87)
• Vocation: It’s My Job, #761 (1989)
• What Is It Like to Be Young?, #544
• Steve Winwood, Back in the High Life (7/87)
• World Communion Sunday (10/4/87)
• World Communion Sunday, John Michael Talbot, “The Lord’s Supper,” #823
• You Should Be Dancing, 9th Anniversary Special, (2/77)
• Jesse Colin Young (interview)
• Neil Young, Hawks and Doves
• XIT, the Native American rock band, #441, July 4, 1976

I also have located some additional CDs and will edit the previous lists to include the following:

• an AM air-check of a “generic” CR program from the early ’70s
• A Hit and a Prayer (Parts 1 & 2)
• Jazz Goes to Church #459
• Imagination
• If My Life Were on Videotape (a program about forgiveness, featuring the Steve Goodman song)
• High Holy Days, interview with Rabbi Jack Spiro, #555 rerun as #654
• Hometowns (not the same as the program called “Home”)
• Hospitality (8/85)

That’s the list. I used to think that maybe saving these old shows was a pathetic act of nostalgia, as if to hold on to such things was a reluctance to let go of the past and move forward into God’s future. But as I hear from friends who were deejays back in the “Celebration Rock” era, I discover that many of them (if not all of them) have air-checks and audition tapes that date to the beginning of their careers. Air-checks were important to most of them since their work was usually “live,” and disappeared as soon as the transmitted signal hit the ears of the audience. My work, on the other hand, was recorded, so I had the advantage of holding onto my efforts until the tape was bulk erased for reuse.

So, if I’m guilty of some urge to hang on to what was, at least I’m not constantly brooding and pining for the old days. I think I did good work much of the time; I’m content (mostly) with how I used the gifts God gave me. And I’m thankful.

So, why not hold onto the evidence a bit longer?

The List Continues…

This is “part two” of a list of the programs in the “Celebration Rock” radio series. (See the previous blog for Part One.)

I realize that this is pretty cold stuff, just a list of old programs, and not all  of them…just the ones that have survived. As I look at the list, one thing I notice is that there is a wide variety of topics and musicians. I doubt I could have done CR as long as I did if I had had to follow the same formula week after week. I could say that I remained open to the Spirit, to see where I would be led as one program followed another. I hope I did. But in the same breath (if not in the same sentence) I’m hesitant to blame the Spirit on those weeks I only muddled through, or when I began recording the show without a script fully written. I can tell those shows as I listen to the old recordings. I can almost see myself scribbling frantically as one song moves into its fourth verse and the next record isn’t yet cued.

I’ll bet many people whose radios just happened to be on when “Celebration Rock” hit the air switched stations quickly when they realized I’d be doing an interview with someone they’d never heard of, especially conversations with folks who weren’t musicians, but who had written an interesting book or who espoused a point of view I thought was worth airing. Was the Kenny Loggins interview more interesting or worthwhile than the one I did with an octogenarian named Anna Mow? Was the show featuring the music of Kansas a better use of the hour than the one I did based on a conversation with an author/pastor who had written about the theology of a comic strip? (Please don’t hurt yourself trying to diagram that sentence!)

For what it’s worth, here’s Part Two of the list of programs transferred to CD from reel-to-reel tape. (I’ll have to find that box of old audiocassettes to see if there are other shows that made it into the 21st century.)

• Genesis/Phil Collins: Invisible Touch (11/87)
• Godspell (Richmond’s Barksdale Theater cast) (4/27/75
• Steve Goodman Remembered (10/15/89)
• Pat McGeachy, author of The Gospel According to Andy Capp, #147
• The Great American Feast, Thanksgiving Special, (11/19/89)
• The Greatest Love (4/27/86)
• Gun Control (interview with Rev. Jim Atwood)
• Heroes (Part 2) #500  (where’s Part One? No idea)
• High Holy Days, interview with Rabbi Jack Spiro, #555, rerun as 654
• A Hit and a Prayer (Parts 1 & 2)
• Home #815, rerun as #875 on 7/14/85
• Hometowns (not the same as “Home”)
• Hope #619
• Hopes and Fears of All the Years #773 (1/5/86)
• Hospitality (8/85)
• Howard Hanger on Jazz, # 634 (4/13/80)
• If My Life Were on Videotape, a program on forgiveness, based on the Steve Goodman song
• Imagination
• Jazz Goes to Church #459
• Billy Joel (6/89)
• Kansas’ Point of No Return #531
• Carole King, Simple Things #505
• A Carole King Retrospective #834 (6/86)
• Koinonia Community, interview with George and Coffee Worth
• Lent
• Lenten Prayers #630 (3/16/80)
• Huey Lewis and the News, CR 19th Anniversary Program, (2/87)
• Gordon Lightfoot, East of Midnight (8/86)
• Little River Band, Time Exposure  #768
• Little River Band, Sleeper Catcher
• Kerry Livgren, Seeds of Change #657 (9/28/80)
• Kenny Loggins interview, Part One, 1977
• Kenny Loggins interview, Part Two, 1977
• Kenny Loggins and Dan Fogelberg
• Love Will Find a Way, #818 (8/18/85)
• Melissa Manchester #757 (2/89)
• Barry Manilow #575 (2/79)
• Dave Mason
• Meisberg and Walters  #494
• Moody Blues, Long Distance Voyager album, #700 (10/24/82)
• Moody Blues, The Other Side of Life (10/86)
• Moody Blues Retrospective #501
• Anna Mow, the Wisdom of… (octogenarian)
• Anne Murray #851  (2/85)
• Native American interviews (Mataponi tribe of Virginia)
• New Year: Time Passages (1/79)
• Stevie Nicks
• Nomads (On the Road) (1978?)
• On the Road Again
• Palm Sunday
• Patience (6/83)
• Personal Favorites #606 (9/79), (some of my favorite music)

Still more to come…tune in tomorrow.

Moving to a Conclusion

[Some time ago, I wrote that this blog was heading toward a conclusion. And then more thoughts and reflections occurred to me and I’ve continued writing about my radio experiences, centering on “Celebration Rock.” In a few days, I’m taking some time off, and when I return I’m going to head in some new directions, blog-wise. So we’ve come to this: a list of the CR themes/programs which remain in my library.]

My wife will tell you, and with some chagrin I will agree, that I have a tough time throwing things away. We needn’t go into the boxes of memorabilia and pure, unadulterated junk that call to me from the attic. (Yes, you should go into them, Joan would say…) I have hundreds of reels of audio tape, a couple of hundred cassettes, a couple hundred VHS tapes, and frankly, more taped content than I could ever digest in whatever lifetime I have left. Among the debris, old “Celebration Rock” reels.

Over the past few years, I’ve transferred most of those CR reels to audio CDs, and then tossed the old tapes. As I’ve mentioned before, many of the master tapes were physically defective, an oxide issue I later learned to resolve, but not before many reels were discarded. Of the tapes that survived, not many were masterpieces. But I transferred them anyway, thus preserving at least the music of the era, if not my “creative” commentaries. Alas, even some of the CDs proved to be defective, with odd “tracks” created by pauses, and lots of “skipping” on other CDs. So be it. Life goes on. But I am disappointed, because I liked what I did with that radio show.

What follows, then, is a list of the CR programs that remain playable, just to make this chronicle complete. (I should note that there are some old “Showcase” programs in my library as well, but they aren’t even labeled, much less catalogued alphabetically.)

• Abba [7/23/78]
• Advent
• Advent in August: A Cosmic Surprise
• Alan Parsons Project, Pyramid, #597 [11/5/78]
• Alan Parsons Project, Eye in the Sky, Psalm 119 (1/84)
• Alan Parsons Project, Ammonia Avenue (2/85)
• The Animals’ Christmas, Jimmy Webb, Amy Grant, Art Garfunkel [1968]
• The Arms Race, interview with Steve Hodges, Richmond Peace Ed. Center
• Backpacking #154, interview with Andy Sale
• Steve Bassett, program #572 (2/4/79)
• Blood, Sweat, and Tears Retrospective (4/85)
• Beatitudes: In Touch, #734 (1/83)
• Beatles Retrospective, #578 (3/18/79)
• BeeGees, #453
• Dennis Benson, Making Tracks: Meditations along the Jogging Trail, #631, (1980)
• Malcolm Boyd Prayers: Are You Running with Me, Jesus? (3/83)
• T-Bone Burnett, Proof Through the Night, #780
• Eric Carman, #524
• Changes (The Last Celebration Rock show) (11/26/89)
• Harry Chapin on World Hunger
• Chicago (11/84)
• Christmas Eve
• Christmas in Prison, #464
• Christmas, The Now Sound of  (Program #5)
• Christmas-tide, #172 (1/1/84)
• The City (winner of the 1972 Gabriel Citation, Best Youth-Oriented Radio, UNDA-USA)
• Eric Clapton (1979)
• Close Encounters
• Bruce Cockburn, Canadian Rock’s Prophetic Voice
• Natalie Cole
• Judy Collins, Bread and Roses
• Alice Cooper (Dennis Benson on the road with…) (8/11/74)
• Creative Sacrifice #502
• Jim Croce Remembered, #853, (May 1986)
• CROP Walk, Richmond, Va.
• Dreams and Visions, #826 (12/28/86)
• Neil Diamond, (album: A Beautiful Noise)
• Neil Diamond Retrospective (5/87)
• Doobie Brothers Retrospective #643 (6/28/81)
• Bob Dylan, (album Slow Train Coming) (11/18/79)
• Earth, Wind, and Fire
• Easter (4/14/74)
• Easter! The Ultimate Surprise
• England Dan and John Ford Coley, #571, (1/28/79)
• Dan Fogelberg, High Country Snows, #824 (12/1985)
• Dan Fogelberg, The Innocent Age
• Dan Fogelberg, The Phoenix
• Steve Forbert
• Freedom #155 (9/15/74)
• Friendship

To be continued…

Radio Revisited

For the first time in several years, I was invited to speak to a church group about radio. A friend at First Presbyterian Church in Ithaca, NY asked me to help kick off the church’s fall season of adult education by sharing some of my reflections on “radio ministry.” Well, not radio ministry in general, but my  ministry in particular. My friend had read some of this e-journal and thought it might interest others in his church, so there I was in the midst of Labor Day weekend with fourteen people, some CDs of church radio efforts, and a little stereo system.

Now these folks only knew me from the blurb in the church bulletin. They had never heard “Celebration Rock,” nor of  it, nor, I suspect, had they ever really thought much about putting the words “church” and “radio” in the same sentence. But curiosity drew them into the church hall for this rather intimate gathering.

I began by telling something of my childhood interest in radio and my call to the ministry early in high school, interests that converged, by the grace of God, in college, and coalesced in seminary. I played the first Stan Freberg radio spots, produced for the United Presbyterian Church in 1965 (or ’64?). It was those spots that drew me into my vocation. They broke the mold of old church media outreach, replacing strains of organ music with an upbeat jingle, and the stained glass voice of piety with Freberg’s comedic genius. If I had had doubts about what I might do in a media-oriented ministry, those Freberg spots set the stage for my future. When I played them for the gathering yesterday, they laughed at the ironic humor, and chuckled over the jingle. And there was the genius of the spots: after more than 40 years, they still seemed fresh and to the point.

(The jingle lyric, quite naked without its clever music: “Where’d you get the idea, you could make it all on your own? Doesn’t it get a little lonely sometimes, out on that limb (bum, bum, bum) without Him? It’s a great life, but it could be greater! Why try to go it alone? The blessings you lose… may be your own!”)

I then told of the genesis of “Celebration Rock” in 1968, a story already documented earlier in this blog. (See the February entries.) Then I played a segment from one CR program, just so they’d get some idea of what the show sounded like. Choosing which program and which segment was not easy. With almost 200 programs still in my CD library… what one example would capture something of the essence of my radio efforts? I chose a segment from the CR program called “Home.” Frankly, it was really well-written! My reflection on why the words “church” and “home” fit together so well was positioned between Carole King’s song “Home Again” (“I want to be home again, and feeling right…”) and Dan Fogelberg’s “Wandering Shepherd” (“Homeless believer, find here a home, You may be lonely but never alone…”)

Next came a sampler of church-produced radio spots, ranging from older spots from Presbyterians, Mennonites, Catholics, and ecumenical groups. I added more recent efforts by United Methodists and a locally-crafted spot by a neighboring church. (First Presbyterian Church in Trumansburg had done a series of PSAs called “This Is the Place.”) I added to the mix a minute-long radio feature, “Passages,” which has been produced for many years by the Presbyterian Media Mission in Pittsburgh.

My point in offering these examples of contemporary denominationally-sponsored radio spots was to remind the class members that 1) radio is still alive, if not as vibrant as it once was, and 2) the Church still has a message of hope, grace, and peace to share with those who listen everyday to radio. As if to prove radio’s continuing presence in the midst of constantly changing media, I had begun the class yesterday by asking how many people had listened to the radio in the past week. Every hand went up. We may have our MP3s, but radio still provides information and entertainment. Why not inspiration?

[A clarification here: My call in ministry was not to “preach to the choir” necessarily, but to invade secular, commerical radio with unexpected signs of grace and love. I know that contemporary Christian radio has its place, but I was in a different place, planting seeds of faith and justice in someone else’s field… by invitation I might add.]

As our time together yesterday ended, I played one more “Celebration Rock” segment, from the program featuring the music of Steve Winwood. In that excerpt, I compared his song “Higher Love” to the poetry of the Psalmist. Being a little rusty in terms of my presentation skills, I didn’t leave enough time for Q&A, but one topic we did discuss as a group was how today’s radio stations might respond to requests by religious groups for public service time. It’s one thing for an individual church to ask for free time for a PSA (good luck with that!). At one time, the better strategy was to approach the station as an ecumenical group, representing, theoretically, a broad listener base of Christian folk. But now, add the local synagogues and mosques to the mix, and one’s message had better have an interfaith thrust.

Even then, to be openly cynical about the present state of radio, the message offered by people of faith  must compete with the crooks who use radio spots to promote bogus “get-out-of-debt” offers, real estate charlatans, and various other “per inquiry” schemes radio stations resort to in order to make a buck. One more piece to the local radio puzzle is the fact that in many markets, large and small, local stations that once competed openly with one another are now under common ownership. (It used to be that if one station in town refused your PSA, program, or news release, you still had opportunities at the other stations in town. Now if the management of the “group” says no to your message, that’s the final answer. And if your message is “peace and justice” oriented, good luck getting the “Christian” station in town to add it, even if you were willing to pay for the time.)

On a more positive note, the challenge to local church folk is to consider this thoughtful exercise, something we would have done yesterday if we’d had another hour: what message would your church want to share if a local station gave you a one minute slot? An invitation to worship? Or, a call for reconciliation among community members? A message to comfort the afflicted, or to afflict the comfortable? A plea for peace? On the world stage or around the dinner table? Or, what about a spot that just advocated families sharing a meal together around that dinner table? (Or do the Mormons have the corner on the family market?) Take a minute. What is the most important thing you would have to say? And how might you say it so that it is memorable and worth spreading the word about?

The Stan Freberg spots from the mid-1960s were both effective and memorable. That’s why stations actually asked  to play them back then. I am bold to say that “Celebration Rock” had its effective and memorable moments too. And stations did request the show! Solid church spots and programs would still “work” today. If Church folk would budget for them and if commercial radio had room for them. Unlikely.

So, guess what? You can do your own versions at home, mixing your music and reflections on your computer, and offering the result on the web. Radio, reinvented. What music speaks to you? How does your faith interpret your music, or your music interpret your faith?