Wheeling Chapter 1

Wheeling Intelligencer

Help Wanted

March 17, 1981

"Female Hire Wanted for 50,000 Watt Country Music Giant, WWVA-Radio. The Voice of the Ohio Valley is looking for a female hire to add to its sales staff. Must have sales experience. Call The Capital Music Hall, ask for Harry. "In the early 1980s, when coal was king in the Ohio valley, steel mills had little competition from foreign imports, and union jobs were still plentiful; listening to country music giant WWVA radio provided a common link and a source of pride for all those living in the northern panhandle of West Virginia and the rest of the Ohio Valley.

WWVA’s 50,000-watt clear channel signal was the official voice of the mines, announcing closing and accidents; its overnight broadcast was listened to by half the truckers on the eastern seaboard. WWVA-Radio also sponsored a live broadcast of country music, known as "Jamboree U.S.A." showcasing big-name talent, every Saturday night, from the Capital Music Hall next door to the radio station.

In my twenties, I had the privilege of living in the Ohio Valley and witnessing the end of an era of prosperity built on coal and steel, but while doing so, I was faced with the monumental task of finding work without a skill, college degree, or union card. I applied at WWVA radio for a sales job. I remember Harry, my new sales manager’s, first words exactly.

“I’ll be honest with you; we don’t want to hire you. But we have to hire you. The FCC is making us hire a woman an 'equal opportunity thing'. We don’t want a woman in our department, there’s never been a woman salesperson at WWVA-radio in its seventy-five-year history, but if we have to hire one, you’re the most qualified of the ones who walked in here. So you’re hired.”

“Thank you, Harry, I’ll do my best.”

After a bit of paperwork, Harry walked me down the hall to the sales bullpen to meet the sales staff, who were frantically trying to put out a fire in the hair of one of their own with wet paper towels. They all retreated to their desks when Harry walked in.

Harry went around the bullpen and pointed to each of the salesmen and stated their name.

The man with the smoldering hair was Joe, a part-time talent agent who also sold time for the radio station when he wasn't booking acts into one of the dozens of small bars in the northern panhandle. He regularly set his long wavy hair on fire with his cigarette while in the middle of an important sales pitch.

Benny or “Boom”, sat nearest to the door. He used to be a newsman at a competing radio station but wanted to try his hand at sales. Boom punctuated all his sentences with a loud and forthright “Boom!” A verbal tic that proved not so helpful as a newsman, and also proved not so helpful in radio sales.

It was also rumored that Boom smoked grass and took the occasional experimental recreational drug. When he called in sick he invariably blamed it on a bad cup of coffee.

In the corner of the room by the window, sat the senior sales veteran, Charlie, an ex-Grand Old Opry banjo player. Charlie lived just outside of Wheeling and had enough property along the highway to sell advertising on temporary billboards he put up when he needed extra money.

This presented a small conflict of interest with the station, but everyone looked the other way because it was Charlie, and he used to play at the Grand Old Opry, knew Minnie Pearl, and wrote songs in his spare time. On quiet afternoons, he’d preview new songs for the sales staff, always to great applause. He kept the banjo in the corner behind his desk out of the traffic flow.

And finally, next to the filing cabinets sat Doug, a big handsome kid, about twenty-five, Ohio Valley born and bred, the most recent hire next to me, and married to his first and only girlfriend. He had a beagle named Tom and kept his picture on his desk.

He idolized the station and the rest of the sales staff and was as happy and proud as can be to be a part of it. His only vice was that he was in love with the country singer Crystal Gale. Her picture hung in a place of honor over his desk next to his Pittsburgh Steelers poster.

After the round of names, followed by a simple, “Here she is.”, Harry walked back to his office to finish the crossword puzzle in the Wheeling Intelligencer.

At that point I took it upon myself to stand in front of the bullpen and introduce myself to everyone as a group, explaining I had sales experience, had been to college, and was eager to be a part of their group. As a result, the sales staff drew a circle around me, and no one came within ten feet of me for the first month.

Continued in Chapter 2 "Take a Ride in My Elevator "