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Behind Grey Gables, part two
Written April 30, 2013

 

In the first half of this article, I used a 1989 book called WOBC Oral History to tell the story of how a group of students at Oberlin College got together to start a campus radio station. 

By 1950, the station was on the air from the Publications Building, the former Buildings & Grounds Department office building at 32 East College Street.  But only a few years later, they had to relocate.

First, here’s a little background information.

The Co-Ops

Oberlin, Ohio, like any Midwestern town, has streets lined with private residences.  As the College grew, it acquired many of those properties for its own purposes, including two big old homes across from each other on West College Street.  These houses, dating to about 1890, each became home to about 32 women students.  Their dining halls served an additional 32 men students, because men's dorms lacked kitchens.  Note the bicycles in front of Grey Gables' porch in these old photos.  The lower one dates from a 1943 Homecoming dorm-decorating contest; the sign over the porch identifies 163 West College as “The Gables.”

Pyle Inn and Grey Gables were unique in that they were Oberlin's first “co-ops,” dating to 1950 and 1951 respectively.  The men and women bought and prepared their own food, working about five hours a week, thus saving about 40% over College board rates. 

According to the Oberlin Student Cooperative Association, “The co-ops quickly developed distinctive personalities and reputations.  Pyle was thought to be sedate, responsible, and political. Grey Gables was reputedly loose and bohemian — it attracted folk music enthusiasts.”

Here’s Grey Gables from another angle.  At the end of the driveway you’ll notice a two-car garage.

Both house and garage are long gone now.  They were gone by the time I arrived at Oberlin College as a freshman in 1965.  But that garage behind Grey Gables played a pivotal role when WOBC lost its home in the Publications Building.

Uprooted

“Probably our greatest challenge,” said Don Burr ’55, “came when they decided to tear down our facility so that a new Oberlin Inn could be constructed.  There was a serious question whether the radio station could even continue in existence.  I remember going to the Assistant to the President — I believe her name was Louise Wood — and pleading the case for money so that we could eventually move to a garage behind the Grey Gables dormitory.  It was a tremendous challenge for us just to be able to stay alive and continue broadcasting.  We ultimately were able to do it.”  {11}

In the lower right corner of this Google Earth view of the central campus, E is the location of the original East College Street facility.  Less than half a mile to the west, D is Dascomb Hall, P is the former location of the Pyle co-op, and G is the former location of Grey Gables (now known as the Grey Gables Parking Lot).  This was the home of WOBC for a decade beginning in 1954.  To the north, W is Wilder Hall, originally the Men’s Building, now the student union and WOBC’s home since 1964.

Moving into the Coach House

A house nowadays will include a garage built into the main structure.  WOBC’s new home did not.  It was a detached building, big enough for two carriages, horseless or otherwise.  “Everyone calls the station a garage,” Frank said.  “I call it a coach house because there was a second floor to it.”  {19}

Fred Cohen ’57 remembered that at the end of his freshman year, “we walked over to see where we were going to be moving in.  There was a refrigerator upstairs.  The second floor of the two-car garage was a former faculty apartment.  They eventually cleaned out the upper floor for us.  We built an engineering room, a recording room and a little record library area.  We had a bathtub in the bathroom left over from the apartment.”

The windowed triple doors at the front were no longer needed to drive cars in and out, so they were closed off.  A concrete block wall was erected just inside the doors, visible through the glass.  But before that could be done, said Don, “the piano was the first entry before we put up the cinder block walls — otherwise it never would have made it.” {11}  Frank added, “That piano could never be moved short of demolishing the building.”  {15}

On the left of the above photo taken from the Grey Gables dorm, the walk-in door to the first floor of the former garage opened into the radio station's control room.  Beyond that, behind a pane of soundproof glass, was the studio.

From the Oberlin College Archives, here are a couple of pictures of that control room with the studio beyond, dated 1954 and 1956.

Frank Porath ’58 remembered opening the outside door and walking in behind the engineer, who had his back to the door but could see a reflection in the glass.  On the far side of the glass, the announcer could observe the new arrival directly.  “And if someone on the other side was on mike and the door opened and [the announcer] looked horrified, the engineer would turn around rapidly.”  {19}


Frank arrived at the station “the week they were putting it on the air in 1954.  They had just moved.  I walked in all full of pepper because I had already been in commercial radio for six or seven years.  I think I still paid union dues.  What I saw was a shock.  I’d been working in Cleveland producing a weekly program.  This wasn’t exactly what I had been seeing, but I had technical background and I thought it was a very good sign that the chief engineer’s name was Edison.  The exciter was built by a man named Fermi, which I thought was also a good sign.”   {15}

These of course were not the inventor Thomas Edison nor the physicist Enrico Fermi, but rather David Edison ’55 and Giulio Fermi ’56.  Craig Richmond ’56 described Edison as “our technical guru at the time, who was one of those 80- or 90-hour-a-week guys.”  {15}  “When something would go wrong,” explained Fred, “and you wanted it back on the air the next day, you’d stay up trying to get things working.”  {14}

“I had to be on the air about 6:30 a.m.,” said Frank.  “We had an RCA 45 automatic changer, so I would put three records on in a row that seemed to have some connection between them, announce the first one, run over to Grey Gables, get breakfast, run back — you develop a sense of timing after a while — and run back just in time to tag the second two recordings.”   {15}

The access to the upper floor was via outside stairs at the rear of the building.   “We had a lot of fun in bad weather with a staircase going up the outside,” recalled Clair Fielder ’58.  “You put your record on, and you had about two and one half minutes to race up the outside stairs [to the record library] in the ice, rain or sleet.  Jerry Edison put in a dumbwaiter directly over top of the teletype.  It had a really artistic plywood frame [sarcasm].  You pulled the rope to make the thing go up.  With any luck, somebody [in the record library] put something on the top so you didn’t have to go outside and up the icy stairs.”  {22}


Above: Clair Fielder, head of the WOBC Board of Directors in 1958, checks the binder containing “continuity” to be read over “The Voice and Choice of Oberlin College.”  Below: the other side of the glass, from a photo in the 1960 Hi-O-Hi yearbook.

“At some point,” Clair recalled, “we got tired of listening to everybody griping about how noisy the teletype was when you opened the door to Studio A.  Ken Cupery ’59 and I built a wonderful cabinet around the teletype.  Neither of us knew which end of a hammer to use, but we actually got it done.  We put sound tiles on the inside of this wonderful plywood.  It did the job, although it was worse looking than the dumbwaiter.”  {23}

The two entrances caused problems, according to Ron Rabenold ’57.  “There was a separate lock, of course, for the doors upstairs and downstairs.  And very often the keys were left upstairs.  The engineer sometimes would come downstairs to start a program and would be unable to get upstairs where the records were.  That dumbwaiter was scaled by more than one control engineer to get upstairs to get records.”  {22}

Some years later, Earl Spielman ’64 recalled “the strange hole between the two floors, through which people had to climb up and down after hours because the outside doors were locked.  It was interesting that you had to have athletic abilities in order to work at the station.”  {29}

The Key Club

Fred Leutner ’65 remembered that when he arrived, “We were still in the Grey Gables garage, which was quite an experience.  Earl Spielman finally clued me in to why it was such a popular extracurricular activity.  It was a key club.  You’d get a key to the building and you could use it any hour of the day or night.

“Dean Mary Dolliver’s rules really didn’t apply that much there, and a lot of people have very fond memories of the old garage, both the upstairs and the downstairs.  It was a great place to be because it was isolated and you could be very creative.”  {30}

A Distinguished Visitor

Here's another photo from the Oberlin College Archives, dated September 1954.

Jerry Nelson '56 is interviewing Adlai Stevenson, the former governor of Illinois.

Stevenson had been the Democratic nominee for President of the United States two years before, and he would be the nominee again two years later.  In between, he was campaigning in support of his party in the 1954 midterm elections.  It was a successful effort, in that the Democrats gained 18 seats in the house and two in the Senate; they regained control of both houses of Congress and would hold those majorities for the next 26 years.

And why was Adlai visiting Oberlin in particular?  The college president, William Stevenson, was his cousin!

The Folkies

As mentioned earlier, Grey Gables — and its garage — attracted fans of folk music and of performers like Pete Seeger of the Weavers.  Ronald D. Cohen wrote in his book Rainbow Quest:

New York garnered the most media attention and remained the mecca for aspiring folkies, but colleges such as Oberlin provided willing, eager audiences.

Joe Hickerson ’57 arrived at Oberlin from New Haven, Connecticut, in 1953.  Mainly a pop music fan, he was also familiar with the Weavers and other prominent folk performers.  Grey Gables Co-Op, an eating club that attracted the campus folksinging crowd, became his hangout.  He inherited from Steve Toller a folk record distribution service, selling Folkways, Elektra, and Stinson records on the campus, and he took over Toller’s campus folk radio show.

Seeger had appeared at Oberlin in February 1954, his first Midwestern small college performance following the blacklist; he would return each year, his audience swelling from about two hundred the first year to one thousand in 1957.

Fred Leutner remembered Joe Hickerson.  “Joe was a physics major, but he’s now the chief folk music archivist at the Library of Congress.  He stayed in folk music, not physics.”  Just as I stayed in broadcasting, not physics.

Fred continued, “The weekly folk song hootenanny was held in Grey Gables lounge, so we just strung the mike cable from the radio station over to Grey Gables and broadcast the hootenannies live.  Joe was instrumental in bringing a fellow named Pete Seeger to campus.  After the concert, Seeger came behind Grey Gables and there was a great hootenanny that we recorded.”  {21}

Joe Hickerson has written elsewhere, “On October 20, 1956 (my 21st birthday), Pete did afternoon and evening presentations at Hall Auditorium and Finney Chapel.  Again, I was the organizer.  I led a post-concert folk-sing in the backyard of Grey Gables Co-op, which was recorded and simultaneously aired from the adjacent studio of WOBC.  Pete can be heard playing the washtub bass. Thank you, Pete, and thank you Oberlin College!”

When Seeger passed away in 2014, Hickerson was mentioned in an Alumni Magazine article by Ted Gest '68.  Click here for excerpts.

 
Auditions

Seeger performed in front of WOBC’s building because there wasn’t much room inside.  For some reason, I’m reminded of Moses standing “in front of the Tent of Meeting” to address the people of Israel, who obviously wouldn’t all fit inside.  I’m also reminded of “Folk Fest”; when I arrived in 1965, these Friday-night live hootenannies were filling WOBC’s spacious new indoor Studio A to overflowing.  And I'm reminded of attending a late 1960s Seeger concert in Finney Chapel.

Tony Musante ’58 had his “first audition for WOBC during orientation week or shortly thereafter.  I was very excited about the possibility of being part of the radio station.  The audition was held in the back yard of Grey Gables, just in front of the garage.  A very impressive fellow on the station staff handed me a newspaper article and said, ‘Read this.’  So I stood there, he stood four feet away in the outdoors, I read it and he said, ‘You’re hired.’”  {18}

Even before arriving at Oberlin, Fred had learned that there was a radio station, and he joined the staff the first week of his freshman year.  “I remember very distinctly the announcer test, because I failed it.  A fellow named Mark Thelin ’55 was giving it.  He gave you a list of things to read and in the middle of reading a spiel on classical music, he would stick one of G.G. Casio’s humorous things in front of you.  It was completely out of line from what you were reading, and if you got through that without breaking up, you would go on to the next thing.  Most people broke up halfway through; they were very funny.  Having failed the announcing test, the only way I could get on the air was to take a program nobody wanted called ‘Yawn’ from 6:30 to 8:00 AM.”  {14}

Mark Arnold ’58 saved an example from those announcer tests.

FARMERS, ARE YOU HAVING TROUBLE WITH WOOL YIELD FROM YOUR SHEEP?  IS THE WOOL SHORT AND SCRAGGLY AND LIFELESS, GROWING IN UNEVEN CLUMPS?   YOU NEED “GNU”!  YES, NEW “GNU” FOR YOUR EWE!  TRY THIS FEEDING SUPPLEMENT FOR JUST ONE SEASON AND YOU’LL MARVEL AT THE DIFFERENCE.  YOUR EWE WILL DELIGHT IN NEW “GNU.”  WOOL WILL GROW HEAVY AND THICK — YOUR EWE’S NEW “GNU”ED COAT WILL ACTUALLY DRAG ON THE GROUND.  SHEEP SHEARS WILL CLOG, AND YOUR WOOL YIELD WILL SURPASS ALL EXPECTATIONS.  BUT BE SURE TO ASK FOR NEW “GNU,” BECAUSE OLD “GNU” FOR YOUR EWE IS NOT THE SAME AS NEW “GNU” FOR YOUR EWE.  AT YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD FEED STORE TODAY.

“That was one of the scripts that ‘Julian’ Casio ’54 had written, way back when, for his comedy show,” Fred explained.  And Tony gave another example, a pitch for the “Salmagundi School of Salami Slicing, Sarasota, South Serbia.”  {18}

Bob Hanson ‘51 and Ralph Winkler ’52 agreed with Roger Brucker ’51 that “one of the great things we might do was to move our lips as if talking and to watch the expression on the audio engineer’s face in the booth.  He suddenly realizes that he’s got dead air, he can’t figure out why he’s not getting anything and waves and tries to work the dials.  We were rolling on the floor almost in tears at the effect this produced.  I’m sure that everybody who gets into radio does this at one time or another but when we discovered it, it was like discovering love in the afternoon.  We also had several female announcers.  One time Jack Welch ’54 stood up on the control console and dropped his pants.  This poor girl, she just lost it.”  {12}

Do-It-Yourself Engineering

“There was a loose connection of some kind in the console,” Craig recalled.  “A wood block was placed there with an ‘X’ on it and there was a wooden mallet nearby.  When you started to get a very fuzzy sound in the thing, you picked up the mallet, hit the ‘X,’ and you were fine for about an hour and a half or two hours.” {17}

Ron remembered “completely dismantling and tearing apart the console, down to the last switch and meter, and then crawling around underneath it trying to string wires and solder over our heads.  That was my introduction to electronics.”

“Most of that rebuilding,” commented Mel McKeachie ’57, “was done between the hours of midnight and morning for some reason.”

“What you didn’t mention,” added Fred, “was the fact that it took us about three weeks of solid work thereafter to redo all the connections we had mis-made.”  {19}

Bill Waite '60 “came up through the technical side.  I was chief technician, chief engineer and finally station manager.  One of our big problems was people not being able to hear us.  Of course, one solution was to work on the lines.  We were always climbing the poles, replacing this and that.”  The lines carried the station's signal to individual dormitories, where enough leaked out to be picked up by an AM radio.  “But another possible solution was to broadcast.  So we came to the idea that maybe we ought to change the operation a little bit into an FM station that could actually broadcast.  {23}

“It was a big change.  We've been talking about how important it is to have political support.  One thing I did for that was to make a sign.  It was three-fourths inch plywood, about three feet by four and one half feet.”

Bill's sign looked something like this.  “Big blue letters:  WOBC, 590 KC AM, blank FM.  We mounted that on one of the poles outside of Grey Gables on the street.

“And boy, that really set the town on its ear.  FM, wow, yes sir!  So we were on our way.”  {24-25}

It was in 1961 that FCC approval finally came through for WOBC to conduct test broadcasting at 88.7 FM, to be followed a year later by an actual operating license.  The low-power transmitter would be located on a third-story landing at the heating plant of Building & Grounds.  This was a large structure a thousand feet to the north; coal was burned there to provide steam heat for the campus buildings.

Stan Robinson ’62 would be the station director his senior year.  In 1961 he “had the exciting job during the summer of shopping for a new transmitter and for all the materials we thought we would need to put it together.”  Buildings & Grounds plumbers helped mount a used antenna from Columbia University onto the B&G chimney.  “Two or three years later, it had been eaten up by the sulfur dioxide.”

“We wired up control cable from the studio behind Grey Gables,” Stan continued.  “We had a control panel from which we could start the transmitter and monitor the modulation and so forth.  It was a 10-watt transmitter and had a 16-watt effective radiated power.”  {28}

Off to Wilder Hall

Fred Leutner ’65 said, “The move to Wilder Hall was the main event of my era at WOBC.  We moved because it was just time for the old garage building to go, probably because it couldn’t meet code anymore.  The ivy was growing in through the walls, the roof leaked, and there was the piano that was walled in.  It was just a great old place.  Unfortunately, the bathroom didn’t work.  I don’t know how some people made it through some of the long shifts, but it was an interesting, fun place to be.

“We scheduled our last broadcast from Grey Gables back in May 1963 with great fanfare.  It turned out not to be the last show, because over the summer, Buildings & Grounds did not get the design, planning and construction in Wilder Hall completed, so we were back in business in the old garage in the fall of ’63.

“I know that because I remember that in November 1963, people in the old garage facilities were doing some work in the afternoon one day and suddenly the teletype machine started going ding, ding, ding, ding, ding.  Usually five bells means it’s a priority news bulletin.  Well, this time it started with five and just kept ding, ding, dinging.  Of course, it was the assassination of President Kennedy.

Lynn Olson ’65 recalls, “One of my lasting memories is hearing the ‘ding ding ding ding ding’ of the teletype machine, going to it, and being the first one on campus to know that President Kennedy had been assassinated.”

“The teletype often was Oberlin’s only link with the outside world, except for those few people who had New York Times subscriptions.  Nobody paid much attention to the [Cleveland] Plain Dealer.  These yellow sheets from the teletype would be posted in the Dascomb breakfast hall.  Somebody would go over early on, rip off the morning news and post it on the bulletin board so people could read what was happening.  In the fall of 1963 we began the first full half-hour nightly news broadcast, called Oberlin Digest.’

“Bill Person ’65, the chief engineer, was largely responsible for finding the Wilder Hall location, drawing up floor plans, and working with Buildings and Grounds to get it designed.  The wall structure and studio layout has not changed at all.  The move to Wilder occurred in December ’63 or January ’64, probably over the semester break.  We had great fun, working many long hours, rewiring things, putting it all back together.  Perhaps not so challenging as hooking up the AM transmission in the first place, but enough of a challenge for us.”  {30-31}

Here are two photos of the new Wilder Hall studios from the 1965 yearbook.  I’ve colorized them.

At left:  An engineer uses a soldering iron at the rear of the control room.  We’re looking through a hole in the rack where a tape recorder would be installed.  In the background is the control panel and beyond that, looking through the glass, we see Studio A and its piano.

Below:  A properly attired announcer at the Studio A microphone.  (A more casual scene is here.)

Postscript

According to Bob Chamberlain ’51, Roger Brucker’s original proposal for a campus radio station “contained three objectives: serve the listeners, provide an outlet for talent, and promote the College.  We thought that the station might become a draw for new students.”  {6}

In my time, one of my predecessors as station director opined that WOBC existed to serve the listeners and to serve its staff — in roughly equal proportions. 

But I tend to agree with Fred Cohen ’57, who said, “The main function of the station really wasn’t to get programs for students to hear but for the people who were working at the station to enjoy themselves.”  {14}

And enjoy themselves they did!

 

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