If we live long enough, we become defined by images. Some are mind pictures of people we've known, snapshots of places we've been, experiences that burn brightly in our soul to the point that it still affects long after memory itself falters. It is easy to assume that these mind photos are tangible, such as a trip to the grand canyon or the first time that one holds their new born child.
Others are just flashes that go by in the seat of a car as you pass by, here and gone except perhaps by voices that accompany the images. Voice that define and give shape to those images in a way that you almost feel as if you were there in a truly tangible way. For me, that was growing up near St. Louis, a place that was so close, but seemed so far away from my day to day existence.
I was born in St. Charles, Missouri. The small city just to the West of St. Louis County, although one could hardly call it a city in 1960. My family spent much of the previous two decades bouncing between St. Louis and Southeast Missouri, depending on if Dad had a job or not. My three siblings were much older with two having graduated from high school and the "baby" of the family being 14.
Shortly afterward, we moved out into Jefferson County which was directly to the south of St. Louis County. Dad was working in construction as a concrete finisher and was working pouring foundations in a new subdivision. With a new baby they made a last effort to make it as a couple and moved out into the sticks. So it was in a village called High Ridge that became home for the next 17 years. While just 25 miles away, it could have been 2500 miles at times....
The distance in age of my siblings assured me of basically growing up an only child, and according in my family, quite a pretentious one as well. It also accorded me the opportunity to explore my ability to amuse and entertain myself. As I got older, there were friends, several very close ones in fact, but was never in need of companionship just for the sake of having someone around.
The imagination and creativity that being alone so much would allow would manifest itself in a peculiar way for someone who grew up in the 1970's. It would be useless to point to an exact time that it was apparent that the radio had not only become my friend, but also a source of fascination, and for the purposes of this blog, the jumping off point for my love affair with the city of St. Louis.
Radio was still a major source of entertainment and information in the 1970's and while most my age were defined by the music stations. KXOK (630 AM) and later KSLQ (104.5 FM) took care of the top 40 crowd, but for many of us it was KSHE-FM 95 (it was actually 94.7) and to a lesser extent, KADI-FM (96.3) which defined a generation of rock fans in the midwest with a new format known as underground rock.
As it has turned out though, the radio station that formulated my view of the city was KMOX-AM, the 100,000 watt blowtorch that was not only the voice of the city, but in an earlier time, was a voice that was influential over an entire area of the county. It was at first for me baseball. It's hard to describe, unless you live in New York, Chicago or Boston the love affair that St. Louis has with the Cardinals. There were other sports, and they were well supported for the most part, but by the time the 70's came around you were born Cardinal red.
From there, I would listen to Jim Carney during the summertime, who's mid-morning show was a mix of comedy, information, and hobnobbing with local celebrities. Many a night I would fall asleep with the game on the air then wake up to the sounds of John McCormack, the "man who walks and talks at midnight" with voices that were new to me except for the names that I recognized my mom talking about; Perry Como, Doris Day, Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra.
Before long my musical taste went all over the map, but it was the vision of St. Louis as this urbane, swinging, exciting city that KMOX promoted that had me hook, line and sinker. Of course, before leaving high school, it became apparent that just like all visions, there is the dream and there is the reality. After graduating from Northwest High School in House Springs in 1978, I left to find something beyond my existence in that little village and for the most part, there was no return.
However, I never quite got over the old flame.
There have been many stops, some triumphs and a few missteps along the way, and find myself as the general manager of three radio stations in Southern Mississippi having become a voice in the early morning, just like I used to hear as a kid.
So this brings me to this blog. The St Louis that I envisioned in my mind as a teenager was partly reality, partly post World War II city which was on the way out, and let's face it, a dose of romanticism, but what love affair isn't without that?
With any luck, the posts over the coming days will be a search for those places that have faded into obscurity except for the pictures and memories people hold close. Some still exist and others have had a face lift. There will be stories, music and pictures. I invite you to comment about your stories and add where I will fail to give a full account. This has been a long time in coming and hope you will find the journey bringing you in touch with your memories as well.
