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The
following excerpts are reprinted with permission from "KTLA's New at
10: 60 Years With Stan Chambers," a memoir by Stan Chambers of his six
decades in the TV news business. Chamber's book is published by Behler
Publications (www.behlerpublications.com).
The Assassination of President Kennedy
November 22, 1963, is a date that few will ever forget. I was in the
newsroom preparing one of my daytime newscasts when I heard the
ominous, staccato ringing of the bulletin bell from the UPI newswires.
It was one of the few times in my life that I heard a UPI 15-bell
flash, and I jumped up from my typewriter and raced to the bank of
chattering teletypes. The urgent sound of the chilling bells was
accompanied by the word FLASH printed on the Teletype paper. I stared
at the wire machine in disbelief. FLASH was followed by two lines:
PRESIDENT JOHN F. KENNEDY WAS SHOT IN DALLAS, TEXAS…
In
moments I was in front of a television camera, reporting the shooting.
I only had a few lines of wire copy in my hand and had to keep on
talking. We knew the President had been rushed to a hospital, we knew
that he had been wounded, but we didn’t know how badly.
While I talked into the camera, my personal thoughts couldn’t help but
slide to the forefront. In our time and our country, presidents are not
assassinated. Certainly that had happened in the days of McKinley,
Garfield, and Lincoln, but no longer. The idea that President Kennedy
might die from an assassin’s bullet was impossible to even consider,
let alone mention, as I spoke on the air.
I continued the
broadcast for about twenty minutes, ad-libbing around the small amount
of information I had from the United Press teletypes, when I was told
by someone off-camera that President Kennedy had died. Stunned, I
stalled for a moment, staring dumbly at the newsman standing off
camera. Can I say this? I asked myself. What if it is not true? Taking
a deep breath, I found my voice and spoke to the newsman. “Are you
certain?”
He handed me the wire copy and I read it out loud. “President Kennedy has just died from his gunshot wounds.”
I kept talking for another five minutes or so as a few more details
came across the teletypes. Then, in a completely unprecedented act of
cooperation, the television networks permitted us to join them in their
coverage of the assassination. I concluded my part, and KTLA picked up
the network feed. The television coverage of the assassination went on
for days. It was one of those rare times when every television station
in the country broadcasted the same story. The media was mourning along
with the nation over the death of its young President.
I was
only a small participant in that momentous time, but it was an
experience that will always be with me. Many consider this a defining
event in American history, after which things would never be the same
again. The death of President Kennedy spilled over into everyone’s
lives. That event seemed to be the dividing line between the old world
of the fifties and the turbulent times that followed.
Hollywood Star
Over the years, I have covered dozens of “Hollywood Walk of Fame”
stories. I’ve elbowed my way through countless clusters of focused
cameramen trying to photograph the new honoree, who is more often than
not a big star in Hollywood. For some reason, we get our pictures of
the celebrity being honored in the courtyard of the Mann’s Chinese
Theater, formerly known as Grauman’s Chinese Theater.
There
are always big crowds of people on hand to watch the recipient uncover
their star, which has just been permanently inserted into the sidewalks
of Hollywood Boulevard. The Hollywood Walk of Fame is a must-see for
tourists, a visual history of the motion picture stars who captured the
hearts of their audiences. These are the superstars who are famous,
loved, rich, and real.
So it came as a huge shock when, in
1982, my news director told me that I was getting a star on Hollywood
Boulevard. I was stunned, elated, embarrassed, and confused. How could
I, a television news reporter, be honored with a star on Hollywood
Boulevard? Does that happen? I’m far from glamorous, so how is this
possible? I never found out.
However, on December 1, 1982,
almost thirty-five years to the date of my arrival at KTLA, my
movie-going children were delighted to see their dad unveil a shiny new
Hollywood Walk of Fame star bearing my name. My colleagues at KTLA were
supportive and not at all above giggling at my newfound “importance.”
All told, I have to admit that I really enjoyed the moment.
So if you ever to go Hollywood, be sure to visit the courtyard of the
Mann’s Chinese Theater. And be sure to go right across Hollywood
Boulevard, to the corner on the other side of the street, where you
will see my star. To this day, I have a sneaking suspicion that my good
friend, legendary Johnny Grant, honorary Mayor of Hollywood, had a lot
to do with my getting it.
This Was KXLU: Past DJs Remember
Jason Bentley
Currently a DJ on KCRW-FM, Santa Monica, Calif.
While I was there, KXLU was the essential stopover for all kinds of
young punk bands. I was the production director there for two years, so
my job was to set up the live performances, mic the bands, get
everything ready for broadcast, etc. … There was one appearance in
particular that was really exciting, which was when Nirvana came in for
an interview. This was when “Nevermind” was just coming out, and KXLU
had already been supportive of the band, playing whatever material they
put out before that. They played all the Sub Pop stuff for that matter,
bands like Mudhoney. KXLU was all about noisy punk rock.
I
didn’t interview Nirvana personally, but the station was definitely
abuzz, and everyone was really excited. I thought it was funny because
Kurt Cobain was talking about Courtney Love, and it was clearly the
beginning of a blossoming relationship there. Also, quite a few people
from the station were invited to the video shoot for “Smells Like Teen
Spirit,” and a bunch of them are actually in the mosh pit.
It was pretty commonplace for great bands to come through KXLU. The door was always open for young hip bands.
Nirvana's Kurt Cobain, in concert wearing KXLU T-shirt
Daniel Makagon ’92
I was a DJ at KXLU from 1990-1992 and music director in 1991 and 1992.
KXLU has been an important starting point for a variety of bands that
went on to become quite famous. The two examples that relate most
directly to me and my time at KXLU are Nirvana and Hole (Courtney
Love’s band). KXLU was the first station to play both bands in Los
Angeles. I was the first person to play “Smells Like Teen Spirit” on
the radio (not just in L.A., but anywhere). The record label brought an
advance cassette, and we played the song during an interview. I was,
and remain, proud of the ways in which all the DJs, but especially
Stella Voce (Stray Pop) and the rotating hosts of Demolisten (been
steady for the past 12 years or so) worked hard to play bands that
would not find airplay elsewhere. So, it was great to help bands move
on to bigger things, but it was also great to provide airplay for bands
that were struggling to get heard.
KXLU was an important
communal space for students at LMU and alums, who might not fit in
elsewhere. Most of us were interested in and deeply committed to
alternative culture, and KXLU provided that outlet. It embodied the
kind of critical thinking that many of us found in our classrooms. KXLU
was an important alternative space within the university. That
community at KXLU stretched to Los Angeles more broadly (and so did the
classroom — we weren’t just hanging out in clubs but learning about the
music business, do-it-yourself production, what it takes to keep
independent businesses going, etc.). And so the bands, club owners,
record store owners, fanzine makers and DJs at other college stations
became an extension of that community. I can say that if I could choose
any point in time to go back to and remain stuck there forever, I would
choose my time at KXLU.
Danny Lemos, Jim Dunfrund '79 and Eric Hansen '78 (l-r) promote KXLU in 1976.
Mike Bartmess, DJ
“The Astral Rabbit,” 1974–80
“Take One,” 1980–81
I was taping an interview (March 8, 1977) with Tommy Shaw of Styx in a
studio at KXLU. I had just seen the band rock out three nights before
at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium. Talk about close up! The show was
amazing, it totally cranked, and they blew the opening act (a little
band named “Journey”) off the stage. This was my first ever interview
with a bona fide “rock star.” So there I was, nearly petrified, trying
to stay cool and not babble, sitting alone in a recording studio with
this man who to me was a rock idol, a legend in the making.
At some point in the interview, I mentioned the band’s first — and at
that time only — hit record, “Lady,” written by band member Dennis
DeYoung. I asked Tommy, “So tell me, what do think the chances are
you’ll have another ‘Lady?” Without missing a beat, he deadpanned,
“Well, I’d really like that, Mike, but I don’t think my wife would go
along with it.” I sat there stone-faced and oblivious ... until I
glanced up into the sound booth and saw our Music Director Bill Hayes,
Program Director Nestor Pereira, and Styx’s Road Manager Jim Voss,
doubled over laughing hysterically.
I turned beet-red, tried
to recover some semblance of composure (fat chance) and waited for
Tommy’s response. I had just ignored a great joke of his (this was
taped, remember). To his credit, he was very gracious about it; we had
a chuckle at my nervousness and carried on.
Ironically, I
have since read in one of Tommy’s recent interviews, this time period
was right after he joined the band. He said he often felt like "the odd
man out", "the new kid" who needed to prove himself, a little nervous
and in awe of the other band members at the start. Go figure.
