Radio Days

WVBR, a commercial radio station in Ithaca that dates back to 1935, is owned and operated by the Cornell Radio Guild, Inc., an independent, non-profit organization. Membership in the Guild is limited to registered, degree-seeking Cornell University students, but the radio station itself is unaffiliated with the university. Its mission statement reads, in part: “WVBR provides students with hands-on training in broadcast media and running a multi-faceted business while providing the community with a source for both local and world-class content.”  

When I arrived at VBR in the spring of 1990, the station was housed in a dingy, two-story building on Linden Avenue in the Collegetown neighborhood of Ithaca. The street level offered a smallish parking garage -- something that became quite useful during the winters that followed -- while the offices and studios were upstairs. “Air One” was the live studio; “Air Two” was used for training and production. There was a small newsroom with a giant wooden work table at the center, which was perpetually covered with piles of Associated Press wire stories and fast-food wrappers. There were a few steel desks and rickety chairs for the sales staff (who were typically not students, but actual paid employees). There was a “staff lounge” with fluffy couches and bay windows that overlooked the street.  

There was a fax machine. A record library with honest-to-God vinyl records. A production room where commercials could be recorded and mixed. The space was a jumbled mess of cassette tapes, wires, old speakers, burned-out turntables, outdated computers, and paper. The soundtrack was both classic and current rock. The vibe was both desperation and hope -- we were always running out of money, but we were always passionate about what we were doing. And underlying all of it was the nastiest shag carpet I have ever laid eyes on.

God, I loved that place.

Even now, I can close my eyes and immediately smell the musty cushions in the staff lounge. I can recall looking out those bay windows at the grey New York sky during Guild meetings in winter. I can remember every detail of those dusty old studios. WVBR was my home at Cornell.

I started there as a second-semester freshman, and essentially didn’t leave the premises until I graduated. I initially trained in the Sports department, obviously, but I eventually learned how to be a DJ as well (we called them “Jocks”). I would later serve as the station’s Sports Director, a position that was once held by Keith Olbermann, among others. The Sports Director who took over for me after I graduated was Dan Weinberg -- the same Dan Weinberg who would later get me in the door at ESPN.

(On that note -- one of the top newscasters at the station when I arrived was Kate Snow, who is now well-known for her work at NBC News. One of the “jocks” who I particularly enjoyed working with was Will Gluck, who would go on to become a producer and director in Hollywood, with credits that include Easy A and Friends With Benefits. There were a handful of occasions when the three of us worked together on-air during the same shift. I find that fascinating. I also wish I had taped it, or at least asked for Kate’s autograph.)

WVBR trained me how to work in broadcasting. How to write, how to report, how to dig for a story, how to conduct an interview, how to broadcast a game, how to fight with co-workers (and then make up), how to get through meetings that took way too long -- all the things that we face in my industry every day. As a commercial enterprise, WVBR depended upon ad sales, and the constant state of austerity that we faced was a useful lesson as to the nature of the real world. That sense of desperation, coupled with the odd hours we kept, brought us closer together. My closest friends from Cornell, thirty-plus years later, are the people I worked with at the radio station.

WVBR is also where the addiction began. Live air is like a drug. The adrenaline rush that accompanies the little “On-Air” light is unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced. It’s the moment when your preparation pays off -- or doesn’t. It’s the edge of the comfort zone. I’ve been asked many times if I get nervous before I go on the air; my answer is, I’m only nervous when I’m not nervous. In other words, a little bit of nervousness is good. It means I’m dialed in and paying attention. WVBR taught me that, thanks to four years of endless reps on live radio.

I just wish it hadn’t been so damn cold all the time.