TV Triumph on Gravel Pit Hill
July 15, 2013 marked KAIT-TV, Channel 8, in JonesboroÕs
50th anniversary. I enjoyed having a front-row seat for the historic
sign-on in 1963 and am fortunate to remain among Channel 8Õs original Gravel
Pit Hill Pioneers.
Not familiar with ÒGravel Pit HillÓ? Here the view of deep gravel pits across
the road from KAIT-TV.
And here is what the
KAIT-TV studio complex looks like from the east:
To have a complete picture of KAIT-TVÕs geographic status
today, requires going back a few million years to the early millennia of what
became CrowleyÕs Ridge. Gravel, untold
tons of gravel, influenced KAIT-TVÕs inception and may impact its future.
KAIT-TVÕs original owner, George T. Hernreich chose the stationÕs 40-acre site five miles north
of Jonesboro because the land was cheap and 200 feet or so higher than the
Arkansas Delta land to the east and west of CrowleyÕs Ridge. The area had once been the bottom of a
shallow bay of what is now the Gulf of Mexico. Once the land lifted and left deposits
of marline sand and gravel exposed, the ancient Mississippi and Ohio Rivers thundered
past of either side of what became CrowleyÕs Ridge and deposited even more
gravel that had been created by the grinding glacial action further north.
Finally, the wind-blown loess that added height to
CrowleyÕs Ridge was more prevalent in the southern part of the ridge than
around Jonesboro. The gravel
deposits around the KAIT-TV studio are near the surface and more-easily
extracted than deposits further south.
This is why KAIT-TV celebrated its 50th
anniversary surrounded by dormant or thriving gravel mining operations. Except
to owners and stockholders, gravel pits are unsightly and the reason we must
look ÒinwardÓ to tell the most positive story of KAIT-TVÕs successful
contributions to Northeast Arkansas.
In November of 1971, over twenty million readers of
TV GUIDE magazine were introduced to Jonesboro and Channel 8 in an article of
mine, which the snarky Back East editors had retitled: ÒHoratio Alger in the Sticks--Or, how I
rose from tractor driver to TV director in just seven panic-stricken months.Ó Now the Horatio Alger dig did not
register with many readers, who were much too young to remember AlgerÕs clichŽd
Òrags-to-richesÓ books for boys.
However, everyone realized that Òin the sticksÓ was a mild insult—everyone
except the Jonesboro Chamber of Commerce, which considered the title a major insult. The article began:
When
I was 16, my family became neighbors with a television station. This event was
a bit miraculous, since our "neighborhood" was the wooded hills near
the town of Jonesboro, Ark. I immediately turned in my ax and entered the
glorious, show-biz world of television as a $20-per-week photographerÕs
assistant.
MenÕs
fortunes rise and fall quickly in the television industry, but nowhere with
more frequency and unexpectedness than in small-market TV stations. This
explains why I found myself promoted to Channel 8's chief photographer with my
television career only four
days old.
The article went on to recount my
early days of Òfumbling ineptitudeÓ as I tried to learn the KAIT-TV
darkroom. This was when
black-and-white slide transparencies were the norm. Fifty years later, of
course, KAIT-TV news and commercial photographers use fancy high-definition
digital camcorders and computers.
Channel 8 has not had a film processor on premises for years.
Back
in 1971—while remembering 1963, I continued:
One
day the station's only director failed to report for work. As a result, I got another
on-the-spot promotion. From tractor driver to television director in seven
months--it could only have happened in Arkansas, a state which, after all, does claim to be the "Land of
Opportunity.Ó
Arkansas is now ÒThe Natural State,Ó
but since over half of KAIT-TV news director Hatton WeeksÕ 43-person staff are Arkansas State University students or graduates, Channel
8 remains a ÒLand of (Local) Opportunity.Ó
The ÒAITÓ in KAIT meant ÒArkansas
Independent TelevisionÓ—not ÒAinÕt It
TerribleÓ, as some early viewers claimed. The initial lack of a network
affiliation meant lots of local programming. While a senior at Jonesboro High School,
I often directed each weekÕs ten newscasts, a 90-minute, Saturday country music
program, a live wresting (ÔrasslinÕ) show and an
hour-long Òdance partyÓ. Some weeks
I directed another hour of country music on Sunday.
All programming in the early days was
live, because KAIT-TV started out without even owning a videotape recorder
(VTR). In its 50th anniversary year, KAIT-TV has fourteen satellite
dishes, a couple of microwave vans, and a dozen news vehicles. Videotape itself is on its way to
obsolescence. Recording at Channel
8 now is more often accomplished on computer drives and solid-state devices.
News dominates Channel 8 programming now, but back in the day:
On
Saturday and Sunday nights, pick-up trucks from throughout the Ozark foothills
would converge on Channel 8. Kids, grandmothers, well-to-do doctors, $40-per-week
waitresses and would-be performers from all walks of life would come to
audition for a chance to appear on Hillbilly
Hootenanny, Country Junction and
other equally memorable programs. From the opening hoedown to the closing hymn,
Channel 8's brand of country-music show was unrehearsed, unpredictable and
packed with hard-sell, "down-homeÓ commercial pitches.
The TV GUIDE article continued with a
litany of the on-air miscues that characterized understaffed no-budget local
television.
Éthe Channel 8 concept of set designing was to figure out
today how to rearrange the same background flats, curtains and set pieces we
had used yesterday and the day before. One particularly unkempt plastic potted plant--affectionately
dubbed "Matilda"—was shown so many times on different sets that
it began to draw fan mail.
A
visit to todayÕs KAIT-TV reveals a much more sophisticated operation. The news sets are ÒslickÓ and would do
credit to any television program anywhere.
The control room is all high-tech, flat plasma screens with dozens of
incoming images. Five people now do
the work I used to do by myself, and there are no slides to drop or film
projectors to jam or contrary behemoth two-inch tape machines with massive
reels of videotape to load. And
current KAIT-TV employees will never have a true anecdote like this to tell:
One
year we received permission from CBS to carry a Sugar Bowl game in which the
University of Arkansas Razorbacks were playing. Since
we had no AT&T microwave or coaxial television transmission lines, the only
way for Channel 8 to telecast the game was to pick up the signal from the Memphis
CBS affiliate and rebroadcast the picture. Electronic interference was very bad
near the studio and transmitter. Our intrepid engineering department solved the
problem by fastening a home TV antenna to the top of a Volkswagen bus, driving
the vehicle far out into the woods, and running a cable back to our control
room. This Rube Goldberg arrangement might have worked if it had not rained in
Jonesboro New Year's Day and if a passing hunter had not gotten his car stuck
in the mud close to our bus. The ignition noise from the carÕs engine ruined
our reception. And thousands of
Channel 8 viewers cursed and fumed until our two trusty cameramen sloshed
through the woods to help push out the floundering automobile.
That is a true story. There are many others. Before our ÒofficialÓ July 15, 1963
sign-on, Channel 8 sent out a test signal consisting of booth announcer simply
playing solitaire on camera. Curt
had a mischievous streak and would sometimes get bored and start cheating at
his card game. The phones—I
kid you not—would start ringing off the wall from sharp-eyed viewers with
apparently nothing better to do than watch a guy play solitaire.
Many other reminisces of the first
four years of KAIT-TV would, unfortunately, fall into the PENTHOUSE FORUM
category. Even more unfortunately,
none of the early KAIT-TV Mature Audience anecdotes involved the skinny kid
with the crew cut who claimed that he was the director. More than a few of my
cameramen, musicians, entertainers, and sundry unnamed individuals associated
with the TV station may have occasionally availed themselves of the
opportunities to impress a Ònew acquaintanceÓ with a private nocturnal studio
tour and provided a shy photographer with a secondary education in human
nature. In addition, the old
logging road to KAIT-TV had been a popular place for serious Òsubmarine racesÓ.
The sudden appearance of a television station along the road did little
to damper the enthusiasm of the local lovebirds.
Nowadays, the road past Channel 8 is
well paved and since 1974 has continued on to the Holy Angels Convent a few
miles to the east. And I am assured
by current news director Hatton, marketing director Jeremy Shirley, news
operations manager Ronnie Weston, and former KAIT-TV general manager Dr. Darrel
Cunningham that there has been absolutely no sexual impropriety associated with
KAIT-TV employees—or with anyone in the Channel 8 vicinity--since my
departure in 1967. Or perhaps those distinguished gentlemen misunderstood my
questions.
All trips down memory lanes must
reach a stopping point—even ones that celebrate 50th
anniversaries. First of all, a confession is in order. My original job at KAIT-TV in 1963 was as a darkroom assistant. However, my job title also included
emptying wastebaskets and cleaning floors.
Examining the careers of individuals who filled the KAIT-TV janitor position
over the years would probably make for an entertaining and inspirational
feature. I was succeeded in the
janitorial part of my job by my younger brother Rex, who went from emptying
trash at KAIT-TV to graduating near the top of his class at the Air Force
Academy before becoming a fighter pilot.
Ronnie Weston, the current KAIT-TV News Operations Manager, started over
45 years ago as the station janitor.
I am confident that many other successful Channel 8 alums could make the
same claim.
The final nostalgic digression I believe
worth sharing involves the original owner of Channel 8, George T. Hernreich. He
was a larger-than-life-wheeler-dealer who made his first small fortune selling
wristwatches to soldiers at Fort Chaffee.
That success led to a successful jewelry store in Fort Smith, which led
to radio stations and eventually to the forty acres of gravel hills north of
Jonesboro. George was a man who
knew the value of a dollar. He
never bought new equipment for KAIT-TV if he could find a ÒdealÓ of used
equipment. On some paydays early on
when Channel 8 was still losing money, there would be a race down the gravel
road to Highway 141 and on into town to cash those checks beforeÉwell, you get
the picture.
I started at $1.25 per hour and four
years later as chief director I was still only making minimum wage. So near the end of my employment and
subsequent departure for grad school, when I was notified that I was a finalist
for an International Radio and Television Society (IRTS) scholarship to be presented
in New York City, I was too broke to even consider a trip to attend the
event. Therefore, it came as a
pleasant shock when ÒMr. HernreichÓ stepped up and
offered to pay my expenses. After
all, I was leaving for grad school in Illinois and was never planning to set
foot in KAIT-TV again in my life. His
gesture was generous and greatly appreciated.
To make a short story even more brief, thanks to George I enjoyed my first ride in an
airplane and my first visit to what was then known as The Big Apple. I stayed
in a nice hotel courtesy of Mr. Hernreich. I won the $500 scholarship and had a
great time spending every last cent of the money of my first real
vacation. George died at age 97 in
2000. I thinkÉI hopeÉI thanked him
for his kindness back in 1967. If I
did not, then I am doing it now.
Back to the exciting conclusion of
the 1971 TV Guide article—which paid $450 and which I also immediately
spent:
My
memories of this type of rustic television are a mixture of chagrin, smiles and
tremendous pride. During my four-year apprenticeship in Arkansas
television. I became an authority on Wallace Beery movies, Roller Derby,
Veg-a-Matics, Highway
Patrol re-runs, and chinchilla-ranch promotions. Much more importantly, I
discovered that television in even its most backward, gosh-awful state exerts a
powerful communications force.
The
TV studio back in Jonesboro is still out in the woods, but civilization has begun
to encroach in the form of paved roads and real-estate subdivisions. Channel 8
is now a prosperous, progressive ABC-affiliate station which
no longer has that quaint, anachronistic charm. And I suppose beginners there
are no longer allowed all the mistakes I once made.
Today--almost eight
years after fouling up my first batch of slides for Channel 8--I am still
in the "glorious, show-biz world of television." But although my
position as a film/videotape producer for WFAA Productions in Dallas affords me
the opportunity to use millions of dollars' worth of the latest equipment, to
travel throughout the world and to work alongside some of the top professionals
in the industry, I sometimes miss the simple satisfactions and insanities of my
first job back in Jonesboro.
Today,
nearly fifty years after the ÒinsanitiesÓ of my first job, I still work with
expensive equipment and alongside top professionals. Although I am a much better and
experienced cinematographer now than I was in Jonesboro, I, alas, am probably
no better writer than I was in Mrs. Melba AshtonÕs Jonesboro High School
English Grammar and Composition class.
I peaked too early with my writing skills.
So I cannot think of any more
literary way to say ÒHappy 50th Anniversary, KAIT-TVÓ. I sincerely hope within the next fifty
years that the gravel pits are reclaimed and turned into an appropriately
picturesque setting for a uniquely scrappy and successful television station
filled with wonderful memories.
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