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| My WEAS Photo ID |
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| The Former WEAS studio |
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| "New" WEAS Studio 1988 |
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| My WEAS Photo ID |
![]() |
| The Former WEAS studio |
![]() |
| "New" WEAS Studio 1988 |
At the close of the Disco era was a fad known as Roller Disco. The popular dances and music moved into the roller skating rinks for those skilled enough.
I was not one of them. I had two left feet but learned to circle around the floor until I fell and hurt my backside on an eighth grade field trip and experienced pain for most of my high school years thus ending my skating “career.” I was too chicken to ever try again until tempted thirty years later when I had my own children. I'm still as clumsy as ever, but as far as my kids know, I can skate even though I am actually wearing shoes. That will be our little secret, dear reader. Shhh!
Disco is dead, but not forgotten. The genre evolved into “Dance” music. It is still played sometimes in its original form at the rinks around here, especially on special skate nights for old folks like me. Well, I'm not a fan of the music but it was designed to dance and later roll to; not many other forms of music are as compatible.
For those of us schooled in the Pentecostal and Southern Baptist conventions dancing was taboo in any form so the youth of my day needed a substitute. The ultra conservative of our sects would argue that even innocuous substitutes for the raunchy dancing and skating was just as bad and viewed as a gateway to Hell. Shoot, in modern churches dance teams are very common; my, how times have changed. I recently attended a church youth presentation of a mainline denomination that featured fast paced dancing to secular popular music accompaniment with no pretense of using a Christian substitute. Funny how even the churches are becoming more politically correct, omitting Christ. Those kids knew nothing of the restrictions I grew up with so I took no offense, especially considering the current character of Christian music.
Winning the “lost” teens of my day involved using our gospel music set to a modern beat. As I have noted in a previous post; I briefly moonlighted as DJ on Christian skate nights. The pairing of Southern Gospel and skates has always been surreal to me. I never thought the genre was compatible. So in 1984 I jumped at the opportunity to spin rock derived Contemporary Christian music (CCM) for the attending youth groups each week at the Savannah Skate Inn on Saturdays . The tunes were fast paced and skate-able. Not so in today's more bland homogeneous CCM. Christian skate night simply would not work for the present generation.
It was hard enough selling the idea of rolling to gospel music in my day when CCM was better. The unchurched laughed; we were preaching to the choir of those who attended (maybe a few invited their “unsaved” friends.) The ultra conservative simply weren't allowed or came without the knowledge of their pastor. It was a wholesome activity, I figured, so why did it fail? It might just boil down to a fickle public that summer. Who knows or cares?
Stay Tuned
© 2009 The Peanut Whistle. All rights reserved.
My hand to God this is the truth. If it had not happened in church to someone I know and trust. Yada, yada… In my last post I spoke of some gospel lyrics near and dear to my heart; this next song is especially touching to a car guy such as myself (the actual words from my cousin Ray):
Actually it’s...Jesus, he will be my snow tires, in the winter he’s my anti-freeze, when I need him, he is my oil filter, and he's my windshield when there is a breeze!!! C'mon, sing it this time if ‘ya know it!!.. (true song....written by a well-intentioned, but hardly mentally gifted girl from my childhood)
At least it rhymes. Thanks Ray! She took a metaphor and ran with it. Now on to something completely different.
I first met gospel comedian Wendy Bagwell in 1983 at a big gospel music show in Savannah, Georgia. He was over six feet tall with curly dark hair. The only man I have ever met named Wendy. Like Johnny Cash and his Boy Named Sue I believe Bagwell would have had a great story to tell with the origin of his name. This was about the time he first told his Three German Police Dogs story about the disruption that ensues when a yellow cat is introduced to three seeing eye dogs belonging to a group of famous blind singers at the Ebenezer Freewill Baptist Church all day singing and dinner on the ground homecoming. “Those blind folks didn’t know what was going on,” he said, “They just thought they done took that job too cheap.” His theory was that the blind group, unaware of the ruckus, assumed the crowd had broke out in an old fashioned shouting revival.
It turns out that Mr. Bagwell was quite the shrewd businessman as well. He owned Bagwell Sales in metro Atlanta, Georgia. My parents, who were both blind, did business with his furniture store several times over the years. My mom, who is not the least bit shy, confronted Wendy about his comments in the famous bit. “I’m blind, but I know what’s going on,” she commented to him. “I know you do,” Wendy replied with a broad smile and a wink in his voice. “This is the truth what I’m telling you with my hand up,” he would often say before one of his stories which were probably slightly exaggerated. Stretchers, if you will, were his calling card. He was a master showman of the Gospel world. Wendell “Wendy”Lee Bagwell died in 1996 and now has a stretch of US 278 in Georgia, our home state, named after him. Rest in peace.
Stay tuned.
This experience with tight cues on our Technics SP-15 turntables was a joy. Immediate starts from a dead stop were possible with those units. When I wanted even closer starts or begin within a selection I would revert to a method called a slip cue. You would allow the platter to run underneath the record while holding the vinyl manually then releasing the record when needed. Pow! you were rockin’. High torque and perfect precision from the direct drive motors provided years of trouble free service. All but one of my non Internet radio homes used this particular model. In ‘84 a couple of them would set you back the price of a good used car, worth every penny.
Savannah Skate Inn had a nice equipment setup. Two direct drive turntables; good consumer models not suitable for a broadcast environment, a compact disco mixer, a cool Teac C-2 rack mount cassette deck (the $1,000 consumer version of the professional Tascam 122B), cheap microphone, massive amplification and huge pro theater style loudspeaker cabinets. Music to hear and feel.
“Good ole boys won’t make it into heaven; Good ole boys won’t wear a crown; Good ole boys won’t live forever where the saints of God are found…”
Talk about a one of a kind personality. I grew up listening to this guy in Savannah. It was a peanut whistle in Garden City, Georgia owned and operated (literally) by one man, Chris Watkins.
The station has been long abandoned. A daytimer that served most of the coastal town’s market. His format was hillbilly music served with Chris’ homespun humor, random musings and Paul Harvey news.
Chris preceded me as a DJ at WEAS-AM by at least 15 years and we never crossed paths. It’s a mystery how this guy got into radio much less how he had a successful local Country music show on the 5,000 watt WEAS and eventually his own station known as WNMT an ABC news affiliate. His was a gravely voice instantly recognizable. Imagine pulling your tongue all the way back into your throat affecting a deep southern accent and and odd chirpy staccato delivery while munching on rocks and you’ve got Chris.
He was known to do some odd things on the air seeing that he was not only the owner but sole DJ sunrise to sunset for a period of time. Once I was listening to him ramble off a local announcement then out of the blue he remarks, “Hmm, thought I heard a dog bark.” Then he goes back to his copy without missing a beat. Those long air shifts must have addled his brain temporarily.
Chris was opinionated and apparently a shrewd businessman. He refused to take on any religious brokered programs as he told my preacher father, “I’ll never have any pastors on my station.” I understand a few years later he rescinded his vow and allowed a few preachers on shortly before the station’s demise in the late 1980’s. He must have realized that despite his negative opinion of religion, carrying these brokered shows is almost a given in the peanut whistle world. It pays the bills.
When I moved to the Atlanta area, a top 10 major market radio town in 1986, I thought I had left behind the quaint radio personalities of Savannah. Surely all the radio announcers in the big city were golden throats speaking the king’s English with great precision. Boy was I naive. I was surprised to find Ludlow Porch on 50,000 watt clear channel WSB-AM. This guy did a mid-day talk show and later became syndicated all with Chris’ voice. The man could have been his twin. Sure his banter was more coherent than Watkins but this was a major market for crying out loud. I mean no disrespect to either of these unique men because my whole point boils down to realigning my own perceptions as a listener. Instead of fodder for ridicule I’ve learned to accept these unconventional voices for what they are or just simply listen elsewhere.
I did an audio parody of Chris Watkins years ago and will include it in a future Radio Rewind podcast so…
Stay tuned.