We arrived in Ottawa,
a family of three
Consisting of Lana, Candis,
and, of course, me.
But a man needs a son
so we added one more
And it felt good
to hit Toronto
a family of four
In fact, the only time I ever returned was when my friend Gary Russell was inducted into the Radio Hall Of Fame there some 30 years later.
However, they neglected to tell me that not only was I following the legendary Alden Diehl, but the staff didn’t like the “suits” from Toronto.
First of all, I wasn’t from Toronto, nor even though I wore one, a “suit.”
Oh, and I’d never even been to Toronto, and the only person I knew at CHUM was J Robert Wood because, like me, he was also from Winnipeg.
I quickly found out that most of the staff still worshiped the previous owner, Frank Ryan, even though old Frank and the Mrs. left them high and dry when scooted with the loot.
Being a bit of a maverick, I’m sure the CHUM folks were a little nervous about me too, but they definitely, knew I wasn’t a “suit.”
I had two programming consultants, Ted Randal out of LA, who I loved because he, like me, was into concepts and philosophy, whereas George Davies from Victoria was mostly about mechanics. I was also only a phone call away from CHUM’s PD, J Robert, and Fred Sheratte, the company’s V/P of programming, so as you can see, I had more than enough help.
It’s probably a coincidence that the chief engineer used to work at Ma Bell, but when I finally got him to back the compression down, it gave us a little more fidelity.
Time to gather my team. First, I brought in the golden throats of Roger Klein and Woody Cooper from Sudbury, which made our production sound Major League.
Then when our midday guy, Joel Thompson, came around to our way of thinking, I knew we were all set.
I’ll never forget watching the evening news one night when the Prime Minister answered a reporter’s question with, “All I know about that is what I heard on CFRA this morning.” How often do you suppose we ran that little sound bite, “Eh?
Hell, we even had a 100 share on a weekend daypart.
Years later, I was told that the owner, Allan Waters, told everyone to back off because, as he reportedly said, “I don’t want anybody slowing down this kid’s train.”
Unfortunately, Mr. Waters neglected to tell me, so the only input I got now was from the old guard, who liked the ratings but didn’t like how we got them, so my rage began to heat up.
The CFRA studios were all on the third floor, and my office was on the second.
Getting to my office from the studios required taking an elevator that opened up right in front of the GM’s office.
Sitting in there with him was his sports director buddy, Ernie Calcutt.
Then doing my best, Ralph Connor (See Chapter XVII, Wild Thing), I yelled, “WHEN YOU’VE GOT A CHANCE TO WORK WITH GREATNESS, YOU GRAB IT EVEN IF YOU ONLY HAVE IT FOR FIVE F*CKING MINUTES.”
I watched in horror as what looked like brown tinsel slowly drifted down and covered up Terry and Ernie completely, and as they struggled to free themselves, I stormed out.
Terry was right about Roger, though, because he did leave when he left with me for CFTR in Toronto.
(As you can see on top, I’m pictured in my office at CFRA wearing a sport jacket, not a suit.)