I know it’s hard to believe but there was a time before FM or tape or CD players or even XM radio in cars.
During the daytime in Alabama we were blessed with the Deep South Broadcasting Company. Four fifty-thousand watt stations: WMPS in Memphis broadcasted east and west, WVOK in Birmingham’s pattern went north and south. Our own WBAM in Montgomery radiated east and west and WAPE in Jacksonville entertained listeners north and south. These crisscross patterns effectively covered the southeastern United States from Little Rock to Miami with the finest rock and roll music that the sixties and seventies could produce. What mother in Alabama does not remember the crooning voice of Joe Rumore? What baby boomer does not remember the Big Bam shows at the Garrett Coliseum? All of us tekkies who traveled the Troy Highway remember the giant full wave antenna of WBAM with its shorter parasitic directional array just to the west. All non-tekkies just saw the two towers off to the right of the road near the rock-faced studio.
We were spoiled so when the sun went down and our beloved stations simultaneously signed off with the melodic beat of Dixie. We searched the dials for one of the clear channel stations that were allowed to broadcast throughout the night. Within minutes we went from a panacea of music to slaves of the ionosphere.
These giant stations were set aside by the Federal Communications Commission to broadcast unimpeded on fifty thousand watts of transmitter power. No other station shared their frequency. Through the use of creative antenna configurations these stations broadcast directionally and could increase the effective radiated power of their signals by up to ten times.
There was WWL in New Orleans on 870, WGN in Chicago on 720, and WSM in Nashville punching through on 650. Combined with the magic of the Trans Atlantic Cable, as a child growing up in the country I listened to programs live from the Moulin Rouge Ballroom in Paris. I always dreamed of going to the Moulin Rouge. One cool night in 1993 I sat on the front row. My arm rested on the runway and beads of sweat and feathers from the dancers splashed upon my body. Some dreams do come true.
The station that stands out most in my memory was WCKY on 1530 kilocycles broadcasting from Cincinnati. WCKY dates back to the 1930s and earned Class-A clear channel status in the 1940s. The transmitter farm is actually located in Villa Hills, Kentucky. WCKY emits signals north to south with a Delta Doublet antenna array that enjoys nearly 20 decibels of gain and an optimal take-off angle covering the United States from Chicago to Key West. During the Missile crisis in 1962 WCKY was used to broadcast news and information to Cuba.
From my pre-teen days of possum hunting, to my teen days of dating, to my post-teen days of traveling the highways and byways, WCKY was an important part of my growing up. One program that sticks in my memory was the Mull Singing Convention. Around ten o’clock every night the dialogue went something like this:
“You are listening to radio station WCKY broadcasting from Cincinnati, Ohio. Please stand by for our regularly scheduled program.” Next that familiar gravely voice, something out of a really good blues song interjects. “This is the Mull Singing Convention of the Air. We’re brought to you tonight through the courtesy of Tube Rose Snuff. If your snuff’s too strong its wrong, try Tube Rose that’s Tube Rose. So, what do we have on the program tonight Lady Mull?” “Well preacher, we have the Speer Family followed by the Blackwood Brothers.” “That will be some fine music, ain’t that right Lady Mull?” “That’s right preacher.” “If you would like a transcript of tonight’s program along with a New Testament Bible send five dollars to Mull - that’s spelled M-U-L-L – The Mull Singing Convention in care of WCKY Cincinnati One Ohio.”
The Reverend Jacob Bazzell Mull, affectionately call J. Bazzell and his wife Elizabeth known to all as Lady Mull entertained thousands throughout each night. The Mull Singing Convention on the Air eventually earned J. Bazzell a place in the Gospel Music Hall of Fame.
J. Bazzell was born in 1914 in Burke County North Carolina. His entire family was into gospel music and his grandfather was a circuit riding minister. When he was eleven months old he fell into a fireplace and was rendered legally blind. He developed a passion for gospel music and learned to play the banjo. He finished school through the third grade and began preaching at eighteen. He started his radio career in 1942 and in 1944 he met and married the love of his life, Elizabeth Brown, at a revival in Lenoir City.
Reverend J. Bazzell Mull passed away this week at the age of ninety-one. This man, who was such an important part of my early life, left a legacy unparalleled.
J. Bazzell Mull, you are most likely up there organizing those harp playing angels. In your own words at the end of every broadcast: “Thanks for your time, at this time, until next time.”
You made me smile J. Bazzell, I like to smile.
During the daytime in Alabama we were blessed with the Deep South Broadcasting Company. Four fifty-thousand watt stations: WMPS in Memphis broadcasted east and west, WVOK in Birmingham’s pattern went north and south. Our own WBAM in Montgomery radiated east and west and WAPE in Jacksonville entertained listeners north and south. These crisscross patterns effectively covered the southeastern United States from Little Rock to Miami with the finest rock and roll music that the sixties and seventies could produce. What mother in Alabama does not remember the crooning voice of Joe Rumore? What baby boomer does not remember the Big Bam shows at the Garrett Coliseum? All of us tekkies who traveled the Troy Highway remember the giant full wave antenna of WBAM with its shorter parasitic directional array just to the west. All non-tekkies just saw the two towers off to the right of the road near the rock-faced studio.
We were spoiled so when the sun went down and our beloved stations simultaneously signed off with the melodic beat of Dixie. We searched the dials for one of the clear channel stations that were allowed to broadcast throughout the night. Within minutes we went from a panacea of music to slaves of the ionosphere.
These giant stations were set aside by the Federal Communications Commission to broadcast unimpeded on fifty thousand watts of transmitter power. No other station shared their frequency. Through the use of creative antenna configurations these stations broadcast directionally and could increase the effective radiated power of their signals by up to ten times.
There was WWL in New Orleans on 870, WGN in Chicago on 720, and WSM in Nashville punching through on 650. Combined with the magic of the Trans Atlantic Cable, as a child growing up in the country I listened to programs live from the Moulin Rouge Ballroom in Paris. I always dreamed of going to the Moulin Rouge. One cool night in 1993 I sat on the front row. My arm rested on the runway and beads of sweat and feathers from the dancers splashed upon my body. Some dreams do come true.
The station that stands out most in my memory was WCKY on 1530 kilocycles broadcasting from Cincinnati. WCKY dates back to the 1930s and earned Class-A clear channel status in the 1940s. The transmitter farm is actually located in Villa Hills, Kentucky. WCKY emits signals north to south with a Delta Doublet antenna array that enjoys nearly 20 decibels of gain and an optimal take-off angle covering the United States from Chicago to Key West. During the Missile crisis in 1962 WCKY was used to broadcast news and information to Cuba.
From my pre-teen days of possum hunting, to my teen days of dating, to my post-teen days of traveling the highways and byways, WCKY was an important part of my growing up. One program that sticks in my memory was the Mull Singing Convention. Around ten o’clock every night the dialogue went something like this:
“You are listening to radio station WCKY broadcasting from Cincinnati, Ohio. Please stand by for our regularly scheduled program.” Next that familiar gravely voice, something out of a really good blues song interjects. “This is the Mull Singing Convention of the Air. We’re brought to you tonight through the courtesy of Tube Rose Snuff. If your snuff’s too strong its wrong, try Tube Rose that’s Tube Rose. So, what do we have on the program tonight Lady Mull?” “Well preacher, we have the Speer Family followed by the Blackwood Brothers.” “That will be some fine music, ain’t that right Lady Mull?” “That’s right preacher.” “If you would like a transcript of tonight’s program along with a New Testament Bible send five dollars to Mull - that’s spelled M-U-L-L – The Mull Singing Convention in care of WCKY Cincinnati One Ohio.”
The Reverend Jacob Bazzell Mull, affectionately call J. Bazzell and his wife Elizabeth known to all as Lady Mull entertained thousands throughout each night. The Mull Singing Convention on the Air eventually earned J. Bazzell a place in the Gospel Music Hall of Fame.
J. Bazzell was born in 1914 in Burke County North Carolina. His entire family was into gospel music and his grandfather was a circuit riding minister. When he was eleven months old he fell into a fireplace and was rendered legally blind. He developed a passion for gospel music and learned to play the banjo. He finished school through the third grade and began preaching at eighteen. He started his radio career in 1942 and in 1944 he met and married the love of his life, Elizabeth Brown, at a revival in Lenoir City.
Reverend J. Bazzell Mull passed away this week at the age of ninety-one. This man, who was such an important part of my early life, left a legacy unparalleled.
J. Bazzell Mull, you are most likely up there organizing those harp playing angels. In your own words at the end of every broadcast: “Thanks for your time, at this time, until next time.”
You made me smile J. Bazzell, I like to smile.
