Linda Lewis oral history - Linda Lewis oral history | Briscoe Center Digital Collections

Primary tabs

View(active tab)

2 of 2

Transcript

Q: Hello, my name is Ayra Bacani. I’m here with Miss Linda Lewis. Today is December 13,
2017. And the time is 3:40. We are at the Seton House. Or Seton League House? And I
guess we can begin our interview. So first, I would like to ask when did you begin thinking
about creating a community radio and why? And what other radio stations inspired you
to do that? A: Well, there was a radio station in Taylor,
Texas that had a DJ Tony Von on. And he would play -- remember it was the ’60s. So it
was Motown. And Memphis was just getting started. And so there was a lot of black musicians.
And in Waco, you could only listen to them late at night on the station WLAC out of Nashville,
Tennessee. You could only get to see them late at night. And I was -- stay up late at
night, do my homework listening to black music. And I grew up one city block from what would
be the Waco Chitlin’ Circuit. There’s an (inaudible) one in Austin, [was] Walker’s
Auditorium in Waco. And just came from a family that loved music. My mother’s side of the
family were church musicians and a couple of gospel singers. And so when I -- we’d
come to Austin to visit my mother’s sister, we would listen to Tony Von. That was the
beginning of -- we bought LPs and 45 records and all kinds of music. You know, it was the
era of rock and roll and the Beatles. And so music was an important part of that life.
And I submit it was a part of the cultural revolution. It was black and white kids mostly
dancing together on Bandstand, or different people singing each other’s songs. So as
I was kind of in the UT circle or circuit -- I had graduated from school. But we started
out by noticing there was little to no programming in the TV and radio stations for black people,
Hispanics, or women. And from that, through the negotiations is the Austin Media Coalition.
Late one night, one of the people that we were trying to work on negotiations said,
“We have to take the communist-socialist method. We have to seize the means of production.”
And I said, “Well, what’s the means of production?” And he said, “Media. Instead
of trying to make these people do what the law says they ought to do, we need to get
our own TV or at least radio station.” So that idea was born.
And as we worked through with the Austin Black Media Coalition and the Austin Media Alliance
and got those commitments, we were -- contacted this guy named Julio Marshall, who was the
director of the National Black Media Coalition. And he went around the country holding workshops
and seminars telling black people how you could get a license, with the seven-year license
in -- through the FCC, and what you needed to do to either get a license for your own
station or to challenge the license of other stations. And the whole process was almost
a decade. We incorporated Austin Community Radio, Inc. seven years before the radio station
went on the air in 1982. So in that seven-year period, we were getting a nonprofit. We were
getting equipment for the station. And when it finally came on
the air, we recognized in the first few months what a powerful tool it was to draw the community
together. People -- all kinds of people were listening.
Q: I mean, how else did you guys use the radio? What made it so powerful?
A: Well, KAZI is kind of a microcosm of, first, Austin’s black community, but Austin’s
cultural scene. Because I think just the diversity of the station -- we had so many different
genres of music that people enjoy. We had blues -- [phone rings] pause (inaudible).
(break in audio) A: The diversity of the format.
Q: Right. A: So because there is gospel, there is R&B
or soul, jazz, reggae, students -- as long as it -- the 35 years the station’s been
on the air, there -- from the beginning we had programming for students from seventh
grade through high school to have their own show.
Q: Really? A: To learn radio. They -- it used to be called
Teen Scene. Now it’s called “Below Zero.” But we have students who present news and
opinion and play music. And so they produce and air a two-hour radio show every Saturday.
And that’s been going on since the beginning of the station. And from what originally started
out as Teen Scene we’ve had people -- alumni, if you will -- from that station -- one still
works at CNN. One of the people was the vice president of a record company. Motown Records,
as a matter of fact. So the folk -- a third person, Will Rackham, is an entertainment
lawyer. Q: Wow.
A: And they started out -- Q: At --
A: -- in seventh grade hosting the radio show on KAZI.
Q: That’s amazing. That is so cool. A: And it’s just -- it’s incredible, because
it truly is community radio. The programmers, the DJs, don’t get paid.
Q: Right. A: And for 35 years people have come and,
you know, showed up and either hosted a music show or a talk show. The Austin NAACP president
has a weekly talk show. The two black newspaper folk -- both Tommy Wyatt of The Villager and
Akwasi Evans -- have a Friday talk show. So the health department -- there’s a health
department talk show. So I think the fact that it [knock on door] -- I’m going to
ask you to open that. M1: (inaudible) have a visitor.
A: I’m sorry? M1: Have a visitor from the front office?
A: Yes, sir. F1: It’s Cheryl [Jefferson Nichols].
A: Hey. F1: Thank you. Hi.
Q: Hello. A: (inaudible) interviewing me for (inaudible)
-- F1: Oh, my goodness gracious, KAZI.
A: She was my roommate twice. She was around. Q: Oh.
A: So I was telling her -- she said how do I -- why do I think it was successful or -- and
it was the diversity within the station. However, I want to tell you, we drew the line on Irish
folk music. Q: (laughs) okay.
A: But just about everything else. And so that’s been going on for 35 years.
Q: So what were you doing before radio? Because I read somewhere here that someone’s library
-- or not library. A living room was -- always had, like, radio gear. So were you doing anything
before this? A: No, that was Dr. Warfield. He was the chairman
of the board. Q: Right.
A: You know, I told you it took us almost a decade before we got the station on the
air. We go the nonprofit seven years before. So like, 1975, I guess. And so we started
accumulating equipment. You have to have a tower.
Q: Right. A: So somebody -- a station went off the air.
(inaudible) the equipment. And somebody donated us the tower. So the Warfields’ children
-- they had a son and a daughter -- they didn’t have any furniture in their living room, because
the tower was in their living room for about five years. (laughs)
Q: Oh, my goodness. So where were you guys set up in the beginning?
A: We were on Manor Road just off Airport. Q: Okay. I mean, were you at someone’s house?
Or, like, in a building? A: We rented a little building, a little shop,
in the heart of the community. Airport Boulevard and Manor Road. And we learned a lot of things
along the way, like don’t have a board of 21 brand-name black people. They’ll never
-- you’ll never get a quorum. You need 11 people. (laughs) We had state representatives,
and local elected officials, and business people, and maybe a doctor or somebody. So
you know, we just -- but for me, the student -- Dr. John Warfield taught at UT black studies.
He set up the African American studies department. And my friend Erna Smith was majoring in journalism.
Cheryl is a journalism major. And she and I were really --
F1: I was at KLRU at that time. A: Yeah, she worked at KLRU when we were putting
KAZI together. And what we discovered is that you could get a degree from the University
of Texas in broadcast journalism and never go inside a radio or television station. Because
only the gifted or, you know, powerful kids --
Q: Right. A: -- worked at a TV or a radio station. And
there was just a glut of folk majoring in communications or journalism. And if it was
broadcast journalism, there was no -- and if you were a person of color, you sure weren’t
going to get an internship. So the purpose of the station was to not only serve as a
community vehicle for exchanging views and information, but to be a training ground,
if you will, for people of color. And, you know -- and we had, you know, some neat white
kids, too. And there was kind of like a revolving door, too, between KAZI and KUT. (laughs)
You know, KUT’s public station. What’s that boy with the pretty legs? Jay somebody.
Cheryl -- Trachtenberg. F1: What?
A: Trachtenberg. F1: Oh.
A: Yeah. F1: Yes, yes, yes.
A: Yeah, he started out with us. And then he went to KUT. He may still be there. But
so it was an opportunity for students who were pursuing a career in broadcast journalism
to get some real hands-on OJT. But what was surprising was all these community people,
who had no formal training, who were interested in being on the air. So we let them be on
the air. And we got folk that have been DJing -- or whatever they call it now -- at KAZI
for -- we have some people that actually have been doing it for 35 years. The gospel folk
and the blues lady. F1: Can I tell her that the reason I think
it’s successful -- A: Yeah.
F1: Because we hired that young lady from DC.
A: (laughs) F1: Her name was Cheryl Strange. I did an
internship up there and met her at NPR. Her name was Cheryl Strange. And --
A: Right. No, Cheryl -- was it Strange or Strang? Strange, yeah.
F1: Strange. And everybody hated her. But she was one of the best organizers --
Q: Oh wow. F1: -- that one can have. And so she stayed
there, got everything put in place. A: Place, yeah.
F1: You know. A: Right.
F1: And then she had to go. (laughter) Q: Yeah, it was like an automatic (inaudible).
F1: We were going to run her out -- A: Yeah, yeah.
F1: -- if not. But she was very good at organizing. And I told them that, “You probably won’t
like her. But this is what you need right now.”
Q: Right, right. A: Yeah, yeah, she --
F1: And we had just wrote that -- A: Grant. We were --
F1: Grant. That -- did we get it from NPR? A: We got -- yeah.
F1: And -- A: No, UT. It was some economic --
F1: I know that we wrote a grant that -- Jim [Cordman?], and [Lana Johnson?], and I wrote
a grant, submitted it, got the money -- A: Money.
F1: -- to get Cheryl Strange -- A: Bring her down here, yeah.
F1: Brought her down here. You know, she organized everything. And then, of course --
A: She left. F1: She had to go. But --
A: The station was on automatic pilot. F1: She put everything in place. That’s
what she did for NPR. Q: Okay.
F1: You know, and so she was very good. She just had no people skills. (laughter)
A: She did. In fact -- Q: No bedside manner.
A: She was such a -- she was such an introvert, she was actually afraid of people.
Q: Oh, okay. A: And two really funny things happened. Because
first they said we’d never get the station on the air. Then they said the station would
never last. Q: Okay.
A: Because we didn’t have professional people. Just anybody -- you want to have a radio show,
go over there and sign up. They’ll let you have three hours. So while Cheryl was here,
after the station was on the air, and it was running real smoothly, a couple of -- I will
call them black gangster entrepreneurs (laughs) --
Q: Okay. A: -- met with Cheryl Strange and told her
that she needed to kick folk off the board and put them on the board. That’s really
one of the reasons she left. Puts them on the board. Because now they’re planning
to be in control of the radio station. And then the other thing was after KAZI had been
on the air for about a year -- you know, they don’t necessarily rate public radio stations.
But they rated us. And our ratings were pretty high. So low and behold a white commercial
station started an R&B station -- Q: Of course.
A: -- with almost the same format. Because we play -- you know, black folks -- they’re
now called oldies but goodies or whatever. Q: Right, right.
A: And so this commercial station came on the air about a year after KAZI had been on
the air. So they hired some of our DJs, our good DJs. So you know, we’d get some new
ones. You know, because people were lined up. I can have a -- so this went on for about
a year. The commercial station would hire DJs. And we just kept on plugging. Because
the station was on automatic pilot. And so finally the program director from the white
station called and asked to meet with us. And he said, “Well, I just don’t understand
it. How many folk do y’all have? I hired away this one. And then six months later I
hired two more. And y’all keep going.” And we said, “We want to thank you.” That
was the purpose of one of the grants. That was the FCC -- to train folk. So every time
you hired somebody, you’re helping us fulfill our mission of training community people.
So -- yeah. Q: What are examples of information that everyone
wanted to, you know, like, tell the Austin community? Like, why --
A: Well, see, Austin has a very small but a pretty well-educated black community. And
there were two, sometimes three newspapers. Because it’s such a political place.
Q: Right. A: A weekly newspaper just wasn’t adequate
to let people know what was going on. Or Bobby “Blue” Bland’s going to be in town on
Thursday. And the newspaper didn’t come out until Friday.
Q: Right. A: So the immediacy of being able to provide
information. And we started out -- we had several iterations of news departments. But
we had good news. And I tell Susan Richardson, who started this along with Jay Johnson that
now Dr. Gates at Harvard has copied them. Because we had moments of black history from
the beginning. So it was, you know, little tidbits of education. It was, this is what’s
going on in the city. And political issues. I used to run a voter center every election
day, because we had access to -- with the Secretary of State, and actually got a grant
a couple of times just to tell people the election’s on this day. The date -- the
last day to register to vote is this. These are the people running. This is where you
can go vote. So that was important. And I think -- and it made the politicians love
us. And so they would support us, especially the black politicians. And then public radio
-- you know, you have underwriting, which is public time for advertising. And we’ve
had several businesses that have been -- underwrite us for that station for the past 35 years.
(inaudible), Bobby Taylor, that guy that does the printing service, and about three or four
businesses. Q: So from my understanding, you said that
you had a few politicians on the radio show to sort of talk about their policies?
A: Oh, yeah. We -- we hosted debates among the candidates. Or we had them come on, and
interview them, and say, “This is Roosevelt Leaks. He’s running for the Austin Community
College board. Tell us why you played -- you were a football player. Now you want to -- why
do you want to be on the college board?” You know, we’d do that. We were MSNBC and
CNN before they were there. (laughter) Q: So was there anything going on politically
that really sort of motivated you having more politicians and specific politicians about
their policies concerning the Austin community? A: Well, you know, it was the time of political
firsts. Wilhelmina Delco was elected to the legislature in 1974. So that was groundbreaking.
First black. And so we -- and she was one of the original board members, by the way,
too. Q: Of KAZI?
A: Yes. But you know, it was a time of blacks getting elected to the legislature. So they
were in Austin every other year for five months. So we had all kind of fundraisers that they
would contribute money. Or programs. Or they’d come on -- you know, there were about, what,
10, 12 black folk in the legislature? We were all -- we were always open to them. You know,
coming -- it’s radio. Coming and talking about the issues, or programs, or --
F1: That was basically after what we called the revolution.
A: Yeah. (laughs) F1: And integration had really just got started.
A: Started. Q: Right.
F1: There were probably five black media people in town. There was the Black Voters Project.
There was We the People. A: People, yeah. They were like our local
(inaudible). F1: They were kind of like radical -- well,
they considered them radical. Q: Right.
F1: The establishment did. But it was a time when Austin was making that changeover from
-- A: Laidback hippies --
F1: -- seriously Anglo to laidback hippie black folks.
Q: Right, right. F1: You know, it solidified integration. I
-- A: Yeah.
F1: I don’t know how -- A: Well, and the station had a lot to do with
it. Because -- F1: Yes.
A: -- of all the diversity of the music. And just, you know, anybody -- music is so universal.
Q: Right, right. A: That it was whoever --
Q: Oh, sorry, that’s mine. A: Oh, I’m sorry. Okay, I’m looking for
water. Yeah. F1: It was just that time. And then after
that -- because before then, there was John D. and that other young man that were on at
midnight. A: Yeah. I was --
F1: And Tony Von, from Taylor, you know. A: I told her about how I used to listen to
WLAC out of Nashville, Tennessee -- F1: Yeah.
A: While I did my homework. F1: And so this was the first time that you
had -- A: Black radio all day.
F1: -- music 24 hours a day. Q: Right, okay.
F1: And these forums with the black politicians from around the state where people could call
in and ask questions, the local black folks that had just really newly been elected -- you
know, city council -- A: County commissioner.
F1: -- legislature, county commissioner. It was a way for the black audience to get to
know them, to talk about what was important to them, and just try and get it all in line.
Because nobody so far had paid any attention. And so this was a way to bring black issues
to the forefront, and in a way that people really listen. Because they wanted to hear
the music. Anglo folks wanted to see what we were doing. (laughs)
A: Doing, what we were talking about and what --
Q: Okay. A: -- and loved the music.
F1: Yes. A: But that’s what we found out. What was
so interesting -- Q: Right.
A: Is there was so many Anglos listening to the station.
F1: Yes. A: And I had a show for 13, 14 years.
F1: Yeah. A: And the week the Arbitrons came out --
Q: Right. A: -- my show was “The Way We Were.”
F1: That was the hot show. A: Oldies but goodies on Saturday mornings.
And when the Arbitron ratings came out, I had 70,000 listeners.
Q: Wow. A: Every Saturday morning. And that was before
19-- F1: Yeah.
A: I moved to Waco in ’91. So that was in the ’80s.
F1: That was in the ’80s, yeah. A: Yeah, from ’82 until ’91.
Q: And sorry to interrupt. But just for -- because this is going to be donated to the Briscoe
-- F1: Oh, excuse me!
Q: No, no, no -- A: No.
Q: It’s not an issue at all. I’m just going to need, like -- I think you should
introduce yourself, just so, like, later on -- I’m not really sure how they do it. And
I’m not even sure if I should need a release form for you --
F1: Oh, okay. Q: -- for, like, all of this. It’s not (inaudible)
-- F1: Okay.
Q: Like, I’m not a professional about this. I’m not really sure what I’m doing.
F1: Okay, I am Cheryl Jefferson. Q: Cheryl Jefferson.
F1: And I came here after college to work as a producer over at KLRU TV.
Q: Okay. F1: And for the first black television show.
(laughter) And then we formed the Media Coalition to get more blacks in television and radio
and provide internships, that type of thing. Linda got me involved with KAZI through the
Media Coalition. That’s how I ended up helping write this first grant.
A: Yeah, that was our first one. F1: You know, but -- so that’s who I am.
So I’ve just kind of been around here since 1973. And, like I said -- yeah, the first
black television program. Q: That’s awesome.
A: Yeah. F1: You know, so.
A: (laughs) That was fun. F1: And we all --
Q: Which television program was it? F1: KLR-- it was KLRN then. It is now KLRU.
And the television program was the Black American Sun.
A: Cheryl and I were roommates. And so, you know, we --
F1: I have a journalism degree. They were looking for an associate producer. I came
up here and applied. They were crazy enough to give it to me. (laughter) Then the producer
quit. Her name was Linda Galloway. And I went to work with the director, whose name was
Pete Williams. And I became a television producer. Q: Oh, that’s awesome.
F1: Yes. Especially since at that time I didn’t know what one was. (laughter)
A: Yeah, and -- and then -- and then while she was there, there -- the director goes,
“Cheryl, there’s this little kinky-headed Jew kid that wants to start a music show in
Austin. And I’m going to take you to lunch so you -- I can meet you.” So she met Terry
Lickona. F1: Oh, yeah.
A: And they’ve been lifelong buddies. I mean, family.
F1: Well, Terry is basically -- is a Catholic. A: Yeah.
Q: Okay. F1: You know, but Terry had come from New
York from a radio station in Poughkeepsie. And he was down here to do the bluegrass show.
Q: Okay. F1: And for some reason or another, they assigned
him to a television show, a news show, to do a news story. At that time, KLRN had news,
like all the local stations. And Charles Akins, who died recently, was a very famous educator
here. He did the sports on there. I was in there watching. Terry came in. And I was going,
“Whoa, look at the dude with the fro. Who’s that?”
A: (laughs) Yeah. F1: And so he and I started talking. And a
week later we were best friends. And he’s my daughter’s godfather. He was over for
dinner last week. So we’ve been friends for 40-something years.
Q: Wow, that’s amazing. F1: You know, but -- yeah.
A: So we were around -- F1: That’s how I met him.
A: We were around at the beginning of Austin City Limits.
Q: Really? F1: Oh, yeah.
A: Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. F1: I pulled cable on that first show with
Willie Nelson. They made everybody work on the show. And I didn’t know how to direct.
And so -- and I didn’t know how to run camera. So they said, “Okay, you’ll pull cable.”
And I went, okay. So everybody just kind of, you know, pitched in on that. But on that
very first show that Willie Nelson did that started it all, even Terry worked that show.
I don’t know if he pulled cable or not. But he was not the producer. A guy named Bruce
Schafe was the producer. A: Bruce Schafe.
F1: Terry took over after Bruce left, and the other director left. And he walked in
and said, “Give me a shot at doing it.” And they said okay. And he’s been doing
ever since then. Q: That’s awesome. Wow.
F1: You know, so -- A: We’ve had some --
F1: A lot of things are a matter of being in exactly at the right place at the right
time. Q: Right, right.
F1: But it helps to have the skills when you’re in the right place at the right time.
Q: Right, right. F1: You know, and he happened to have them.
Dr. Warfield, I, Linda, everybody that was needed just happened --
A: At the same time. F1: -- to fall into place. It was --
A: At the same -- I call it the magic time in Austin.
F1: Yes, it really was. Q: Yeah.
A: Yeah. F1: It truly was.
A: Yeah. F1: Because you had the radicals over here.
And then you had people like me that was raised in the military, you know, that’s basically
straight, that’s absolutely naive, that knows nothing. And each of them balanced out.
So I learned from them. They learned from me.
A: From us, yeah. F1: And it made a complete, you know, circle.
Q: Right. F1: This one friend who was with the Black
Citizens Task Force, Izielen Agbon, he got his doctorate (inaudible) from the University
of Texas. He told me that the revolution is fought at many different levels. Because I
used to tell him I felt guilty about not being really radical. And, you know, Black Panther,
and you know. And he goes, “No, my sister. The revolution is fought at many different
levels. We have Black Citizens Task Force over here doing this. You’ve got the Black
Voters Project over here doing this. We have you over there at public television. We have
a public radio station going.” He says, “So things are done at different levels,
and you’re making your contribution.” Q: Right. Right, right, right.
F1: And like I said, everything just seemed during that time to fall into place and to
come full circle. And it came to be. A: It did. And Dr. Warfield’s -- his rallying
cry when we get tired or we have dissention, he would say, “He who defines you, controls
you. We have to do this so we can define ourselves.” Q: Right, right.
A: He was part of the national movement for --
Q: I got shivers when I heard that. (laughter) Yeah.
A: Yeah, and it’s true. Q: It is, yeah.
A: You know, we were -- and we were in uncharted territory. I tell people the reason KAZI succeeded
was because we didn’t know -- F1: What we were --
A: -- what we were doing. Q: Right.
A: So we didn’t -- failure wasn’t an option. F1: Yeah, we didn’t know that we could fail.
A: We never thought that we couldn’t do it. We just -- we were young, gifted, and
black. We had degree -- we had our degrees. And we knew stuff. And we could do stuff.
So it never occurred to us that we couldn’t do it.
Q: Right. A: And the first time I went to a conference
with national community radio people around the country, they just fell out laughing at
all the stops and starts we had trying to make it -- we didn’t have anybody we could
call. I mean -- Q: Yeah, right.
A: -- where was a black radio -- there was some at, you know, college campuses. But there
was nobody we could -- and the people from Pacifica and the station in Dallas and Houston
were very helpful if we had questions about how public radio worked. But see, Cheryl was
over there at KLRU. So we didn’t necessarily need them.
Q: Right. A: But yeah, we just -- it --
F1: And Cheryl Strange. Because she worked at NPR --
A: In DC. F1: -- and had already done all of that stuff.
A: Yeah, had started the station -- F1: She understood how it worked. And so that’s
why she was perfect for it. Q: Right, right.
F1: With no bedside manners. (laughter) But she knew --
A: Yeah. F1: -- how to write grants. She knew how to
set up a station. She knew what the requirements were by the federal government. So everyone
was in compliance -- I mean, she -- she understood that. And bless her heart, she was the sweetest
she can be. But -- Q: Right, right.
F1: Bless her heart, she just -- A: Afraid -- was such an introvert, she was
actually afraid of people. I was like, what are you doing in broadcast media? You’re
scared of -- F1: Because she didn’t have to be on the
program. A: Out front.
F1: You know, she was -- A: She was the --
F1: Behind the scenes. A: Behind the scenes.
F1: Yeah. A: And then there was a UT law student named
Bob Thomson. F1: Yeah.
A: Who took black studies with Dr. Warfield. He said, “Well, Dr. Warfield, I interned
at the FCC last -- last summer.” And he knew all about the seven-year license challenge
thing. Pluria Marshall and the National Black Media Coalition came down a couple of times
and did workshops with this. So we actually had a UT law student that helped us compile
all the papers to -- Q: Right, right.
A: -- file for the station’s license. Q: You know, what’s interesting about that
is -- like, through all the research that I’ve been doing with, like, community radio
specifically for, like, the black community, it’s interesting that everyone just comes
together in order to make something work. And so it’s interesting that, you know,
you had a UT law student helping you guys. And then you’re just pulling things, you
know, as you can sort of catch them, I guess. Like -- yeah.
A: Absolutely. F1: It was just such a small group of -- we
used to call them the black intelligentsia. A: Yes.
F1: And we would get together, and drink sangria, and solve the problems of the world. At that
time there was apartheid in South Africa. Q: Right.
F1: And we’d get there. And we’d talk about that.
Q: Was this during, like -- with the radio station? Or --
F1: Well, this is -- A: This is a group of -- this is an informal
group. F1: This was, like I said, the group.
A: The group. F1: And so everybody kind of knew what each
other’s talents were. But we never thought they would all be put together to end up with
KAZI. Q: Right, right.
F1: So we knew each other. That -- so it provides a social circle for us. And from that social
circle came a group of people that just were in the right place at the right time.
A: Absolutely. F1: To form this group and to make this station
happen. So the talents were there. We probably didn’t quite know they were there. But while
you were playing chess with someone, or you were discussing apartheid, or, you know, you
were talking about, you know, what was happening in Philadelphia or with Stokely Carmichael
then, little things came out. And so then when you start trying to formally put pieces
-- you go, “Oh, so-and-so -- you remember?” A: Yes.
F1: “He was at that party.” A: He knew how to --
F1: “And he was that law student.” And you call them up. And -- oh, you remember
so-and-so? You remember when we were playing chess over there with Dennis Brutus. And he
mentioned that guy’s name? And so that’s kind of like --
A: Yeah, because we have the UT community --
Q: Right. A: -- and the wider black community. Like
you said, the black intelligentsia. Q: (inaudible)
A: And one of the mottos is, the message has always been in our music. Black music has
always had from -- F1: Yes.
A: -- Motown, to Philadelphia, to the Memphis horns, to California --
F1: To the spirituals. A: Spirituals. There’s always some revolutionary
message if you listen to the music. And that just set a tone. We started doing Austin news.
Daryl Slusher, who was formerly on the city council, and this other guy used to do a newsletter
about politics in Austin called the Daryl Herald. Because it was the Daryls --
F1: Daryl James and Daryl Slusher, yeah. A: So Daryl was kind of in that group of intelligentsia,
blah, blah, blah. F1: Yes.
A: And so I would host this Sunday afternoon talk show about what’s going on in city
government and county government. You know, just on Sunday afternoons. And people would
call in. Because you know, this is such a political-junkie town.
Q: Right. A: People would call in because the Daryl
Herald was kind of auxiliary to the Chronicle. But it was narrowly focused, so it was better.
F1: Yeah, because that was before the Chronicle. A: It was before the Chronicle, yeah.
F1: Yeah. Because after -- A: After the Daryl Herald was Louis Black
and them, with Daryl Slusher, with Daryl Jones. F1: And they ended up --
A: Forming the Austin Chronicle. F1: Yes. (laughter)
A: It was just all -- as you guys say, it was just all so organic and just --
Q: Right, right. A: You know, it just bloomed. So we did --
F1: And because we didn’t have sense to know we couldn’t, we did.
A: We did. And with no money. Q: Yeah, that --
A: No money. F1: Yes, there was no money.
A: No money. Q: So did you just --
A: I had 70,000 listeners. I had a show every Saturday morning from 9:00 to noon. And on
the first Friday of the month, I had a payday Friday show. Because Susan -- this is the
soft soul stuff. Susan was -- she just said, “Look, I’m in a relationship. I’ve got
to have weekend off.” Because she was on Friday nights. You know, it’s a party town
-- 6:00 to 9:00, that’s when people are --
Q: Yeah. A: -- getting ready to get their party on.
So besides every Saturday morning from 9:00 to noon with the oldies, on Fridays from -- first
Friday of the month, payday Friday, I did a show called “Love Notes.” And just played
a lot of soft soul, a lot of romantic songs. People tell me I’m responsible for the baby
boom. (laughter) But it was just -- you know, and what was so great about it is -- Marion
Nickerson, the guy that’s in that article with me, he’s the program director. And
he was in the Air Force. And he got some training in radio in the Air Force. And the program
-- because I knew Cheryl -- the program director determines what goes on the air. That’s
why the quality has increased over the years. Q: Right.
A: We’ve got a guy named Roger C. Brown, who has to be 80 now. Roger was in the Air
Force. He grew up in Harlem in New York City. And he is a jazz expert. He’s the -- kind
of the godfather of all the jazz DJs and jazz musicians. And he has an excellent show on
Thursday nights from 9:00 to midnight. And with the miracle of, you know, the internet
and all of this media, I got to sleep to jazz on KAZI in Waco, Texas. Just like I have to
tune in now. Q: So --
A: So it’s -- now I -- my son says that KAZI’s my one and only first child. But
he always said KAZI was my favorite child. He came in second.
Q: So to you, what do you think the impact of your radio station and your radio shows
did to the Austin community, specifically the black community.
A: I’m surprised to know that it’s multigenerational. There’s a woman who does the Saturday show
now. And she’s really good. The show I created. And she tells me -- because I call and listen.
And I come and I -- she says, “Well, I grew up listening to you. My mama on Saturday mornings
-- it was The Way We Were with Linda Lewis and clean up your damn room.” (laughter)
“You can’t leave the house until you -- so” -- and she said, “Me and all my friends”
-- so, you know, she’s like 40-something. And she said -- she has her grandbaby up there
at the station with her when she’s doing her show. Because she wants her grandbaby
to learn radio. And she wants her listen to that music.
Q: And what do you -- A: So I think it’s multigenerational and
multicultural. Because at my age, I know a lot of people. But I’ve got to form really,
really deep and meaningful relationships with people around that whole synergy of Austin
Media, the radio station, KLRU, the Chronicle, the black newspapers. So I’d say multigenerational
and multicultural. It just put me in touch with the entire community.
Q: Why do you think a lot of white people listen to your music, or listen to the radio
station in general? Surprisingly, as you said, I think?
A: Let me say it this way. I think one of the things that Africans brought to America
was literally soul. Whether it was the drums or later the music, I think it’s just in
our DNA that whatever music we’re doing is what the rest of the world wants to hear.
And in the ’60s it was Motown and R&B. And then it went to England. And the British got
it, and it went all over the world now. We’ve got the Koreans rapping and the -- you know,
I think that it’s just in the DNA that -- whether it’s drum beats, or dance, or music, we
just -- we set the standards. And so whatever our music is, it’s universal. And I think
cultures around the world can embrace it. Because I think it is really spiritual. I
think it’s a spirit talking. And for me, those -- you have to be a little crazy to
sit in a room about this size or smaller and talk to yourself for three hours --
Q: Right. A: And think somebody wants to hear what you
have to say. And you know, it’s a special kind of insanity. But for me, it was like
my art. I write some. But for me to put songs together that told a story, and I didn’t
have to say anything, and to know that that touched people in all kinds of ways, I -- you
know, I didn’t come to college saying, “I’m going to start a radio station.” I came
to college saying I’m going to get the best education I can so that I can change the world
and make it a better place. And so I guess the intersection of communication, that’s
what it is. I agree with what (inaudible) said, that the guy who was reading, you know,
Chairman Mao’s Little Red Book -- we all read -- had to read it. And you know, Saul
Alinsky, Rules for Radicals. And the Communist Manifesto. A guy named Anthony Spear said,
“We have to seize the means of production. And the means of production in America is
communication. It’s the media.” And while we were arguing over, do we want to go publicly
sue KLBJ radio and TV for not having black folk on their staff and not having an EEO
file, he just said, “We need to do our own.” And Dr. Warfield was here. He had tenure at
UT. They couldn’t fire him. So we met at his office. Lord, I don’t know. We -- we
met at his office on Sunday afternoons for five hours trying to get this station together.
Is that enough? [I’m sorry?]. Q: I think I’m just really interested as
well as -- to know what else -- A: Well, you know --
Q: -- the radio did for the community. A: Well --
Q: You know, like, different, like -- did you guys fundraise for --
A: Oh, God. Oh, you know, the AIDS in the black community was really big. And we still
have a show hosted by somebody who is with the health department. But we had two or three
-- we always have a -- what’s called a black fest. It’s our anniversary party. And black
businesses would come, and entertainers. And you know, businesses raised money selling
their stuff, their wares. And entertainers. We -- we’d been in the health -- both through
shows and telling people to contribute to this cause or that cause. Just like your local
church -- on the gospel shows, they have the prayer line. Sister Susie is sick. And Brother
Johnson’s out of the hospital. (Inaudible) says don’t come to visit because he needs
to rest. (laughter) So it was from immediate -- you know, that kind of, too. Here’s a
new product -- Q: Right.
A: -- that somebody’s selling or a new business. And now that Austin has exploded with entertainment
and food, there’s always -- the new restaurants are underwriting stuff. And folk are coming
to town. Also because we were the black radio station in town. Gil Scott-Heron used to come
and do fundraisers for us. We had a -- how old are you?
Q: I’m 19. A: Oh, God.
F1: Oh, my goodness. A: You know who Run DMC is?
Q: Yes, I do. A: Run DMC was on our parking lot when we
were just starting out. (laughs) At one of our community fests.
F1: Girl, you’re younger than my daughter. A: Ayra, my -- this eye is 35 years old. (laughter)
F1: Oh, my goodness, your eye is older than her.
A: But she knows who Run DMC is. Q: Well, my boyfriend is actually into music.
He’s, like, a musician as well. So he makes sure to educate me on a lot. Like, he showed
me the Stylistics. What’s that one song I really like? “Love don’t live here anymore.”
Oh, God, I don’t remember. Rose Royce. A: Rose Royce. (inaudible)
F1: Oh, Rose Royce. Oh, my goodness, she probably has heard of an album, too.
A: Yeah. (laughs) I bought an album. I have to tell you about that. Phoebe took me to
Linda Lewis heaven after Thanksgiving. She took me to this place that only sells vinyl.
Is your boyfriend into vinyl? Q: Yes, yes.
A: Millennials are bringing it back, Cheryl. F1: Yes, I’m glad they are.
A: So there’s this -- F1: That’s -- that’s a good thing.
A: There’s this group called Third Root. I bought their first CD, because they were
sampling Maya Angelou and Nikki Giovanni. So Phoebe took me to this place that only
sells vinyl. And they were doing an in-store performance. And they were sampling Gil Scott-Heron.
And they only had LPs, so I bought one. F1: That is very nice.
A: Yeah. But -- F1: The -- the thing to me that KAZI provided
the most -- it made you feel like you were really part of Austin.
A: Yeah. Q: Right.
F1: You know, that -- when you -- if you were looking for a black (inaudible) you could
call the station. And somebody would be able to tell you where one was. If you needed assistance,
like she said, with AIDS or with some type of a health problem, you could call the station,
and somebody could tell -- even if -- A: You didn’t hear the show.
F1: Yeah. Q: Right.
A: They say call -- call -- F1: Somebody -- somebody can tell you what
was going on and where you could get information. If you weren’t sure where your voting precinct
was or, you know, when the election day was, or how to get a ride to the polls, if you
didn’t understand why some school said this for your child, you know --
A: Oh, yeah, we had [I can tell?], education programs --
F1: It covered health. It covered education. It covered social programs that could help
you. And even if there wasn’t a particular program about that subject, you could always
call there. They will put you on hold, and somebody would find out for you. When the
little kids start doing things, that gave them somewhere where they could express themselves.
When they started playing rap music and stuff like that, I’d go, “Oh, my goodness.”
But they needed -- Q: Right.
F1: -- that kind of a place where they could express what they were feeling, what they
were thinking, what that music meant to them. I -- little did I know that that music would
end up taking over the whole world. Black kids, white kids, from, you know, one country
to the other. But it gave them a place where they could talk.
Q: Right, right, right. F1: And they talked about things that were
important to them. A: To them.
F1: Not important to us grown-ups. But things that were important to them. The older folks,
they had the religious, you know, music. And they had the community programs. And when
they were getting ready for church they could turn on KAZI. Before, they couldn’t. There
wasn’t any, you know, religious station. So while you’re getting ready for church
and getting the children ready for Sunday school, and you’re humming along and making
breakfast, they were there. Q: Right, right.
F1: You know, so it gave you a sense of belonging to Austin.
Q: Yeah, that’s true, yeah. F1: And before you didn’t quite have that
sense because it was so segregated. Q: Right.
F1: You know, but KAZI brought all the pieces together. And it made you feel like you belonged.
So that to me was what was most important. They had grown folks’ music at night. Like
she said, when you come home from the club, and you brought this, you know, cool guy home,
or you’re dating someone that’s really cool and you had breakfast at the Lazy Daisy
-- that was a 24-hour restaurant that was over there by UT. You know, you came home.
You put on some KAZI. And they would be playing Lou Rawls and that type of thing. And you
could chit-chat and have some conversation. And if you wanted to go further (laughs) you
could. I mean, it provided romance. It provided religion. It provided welfare. I mean, it
-- Q: Right.
F1: It did all of that. Q: It encompassed, like, the -- all of the
aspects of someone’s life. F1: Yes.
Q: Young or old. F1: Yes, yes, yes.
Q: That’s amazing. That’s beautiful. F1: And that -- and I’m so glad that it’s
still going. I -- I worried for a while that it wasn’t going to quite make it.
A: Oh, yeah. I -- F1: But golly, every time you think --
A: It came back. F1: -- you know, it’s over with --
A: Yeah, I used to say -- F1: -- something falls into place.
A: I used to -- F1: So I think the place was just -- I think
the concept was blessed. A: It was meant to be from the beginning.
F1: And -- yes. A: Cheryl and --
F1: And it’s going to continue to be. A: Like I said, Cheryl and I have been roommates
twice. And I used to hold my breath as I turned on the station hoping it’s still on the
air. (laughter) Because we hadn’t paid -- we didn’t have enough money to pay the electric
bills. Q: Oh, my goodness. So other than grants,
how did you guys get money to pay for the station?
A: Underwriters, advertisers -- and we -- you know, public stations have pledge drives.
Now, but you know, we had pledge drives with soul. You know, we’d call people --
F1: Yes. A: We’d call people names.
F1: The pledge drives were fun. A: They were a lot of fun.
F1: You know, yes, yes. A: I used to do -- and on my oldest show,
I’d do the horoscope of the month. Q: Oh, that’s cool.
A: And then I’d say, “Okay, so this is -- this is Scorpio. I want y’all to call
in and pledge for Ada Simon. For every Scorpio I name, call in a pledge in their names.”
Ada Simon, the mother of black history in Austin. And folk would call. “I’m pledging
50 dollars in the name of Ada Simon.” Q: That’s so precious.
A: So we would have pledge drives. And before the station got on the air and even after
it got on the air Jan Warfield, Dr. Warfield’s wife, was our second station (inaudible).
And we had to [shoot?] (inaudible). We were 500 dollars short. And I said, “You’re
going to make me go to the teen dance, aren’t you?” We’d rent a place. We -- you know,
we had kids that were DJs on the air. So the kids were going to come. I can’t stand hog
dogs and the cheese over the tortillas right today. Because -- nachos. Because we’d stay
there until we collected 500 dollars to pay the electric bill. Teen dances.
Q: Oh, my goodness. A: The gospel folk -- the gospel DJs would
get together about every three months and have a -- we’re having a musical. Support
-- F1: Musical, yes.
A: -- our community radio station. Y’all come on out and help us praise the lord and
bring your dollars. (laughter) Q: Wow, that’s amazing.
A: So I -- you know, it -- like I said, it really is organically black. Because whatever
-- we did everything but have a rent party. We did have fish fries. And then people would
sometimes have private parties at their house. F1: You know, so it was amazing.
A: Yeah, it was amazing. F1: I am -- and it’s been so long -- I’ve
gotten so far away from it, when I was so involved, you know, at first. But it’s lasted.
A: Yeah. F1: And it’s done well. And if you -- I
always truly believe that if you’re setting up a program, no matter what it is -- if it’s
a marketing program, if it’s an energy program, if it’s a radio station, if you do it right,
any idiot can come behind you and not mess it up.
A: They keep it going. F1: It will keep on going because you set
it up right -- Q: Right, right.
F1: -- the first time. A: Yeah.
F1: And that’s what you have to do with anything if you want it to last. A legacy
-- even with your children. You’ve got to set them up right. You’ve got to give them
wings and roots. You know, and that radio station -- that’s Goethe. The radio station
had wings. And it had roots. A: It had deep roots, yeah.
F1: And it’s continued. And the -- Goethe says, “The best thing that you can give
-- behest to your children are wings” --

Details

Title: Linda Lewis oral history
Identifier: camh-dob-003926_002
Other IDs: camh-dob-003926_002.wav
Description: An Oral History of Linda Lewis conducted by Ayra Bacani on November 2, 2017 and December 13, 2017. Lewis discusses studying, living, and protesting at the University of Texas at Austin and the radio station 88.7 KAZI.
Creator: Bacani, Ayra
Contributor: Lewis, Linda
Date: 1965
1981
1965-08
1982-08-29
2017-12-13
Date Created: 2017-12-13
Resource: Austin women activists oral history project records
Subject Name: Lewis, Linda
Subject Topic: African Americans in radio broadcasting
Subject Geographic: United States - Texas - Travis County - Austin
Physical Genre: Oral histories (literary works)
Collection Strength: The University of Texas History
Project: Austin women activists oral history project