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Chicago Radio and Cocaine, for Christ’s Sake
June 27, 2022
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Cocaine and Crown Royal, the story of a morning talent in Chicago, sharing on-air his wild party days. When talents share personally, if effective, it should take us to a time in our own lives, whether reminding us of something that happened to us, or a brother, cousin, parent or friend.
I was immediately in my own head about a time in that same city where I walked to my morning radio gig at Columbia College Chicago’s 88.1 WCRX.
The windchill was near 10 below, cold enough to freeze my runny nose shut; and the residue from my own night of indiscretion was about to give me away. The college wasn’t open at that time, but because we were in the radio department, the ones they trusted were given keys to the building to get us in during those early morning hours. On this day, that person was Natalie Olinger, our News Director, and I made it just as she was opening the door to the school.
We exchanged pleasantries riding the elevator to the radio floor, where I got out and b-lined it to the men’s room for what I thought would be relief, but when I caught a glimpse of my face in the bathroom mirror, I was introduced to the worst two things you could mix together since orange juice and toothpaste, and that was cocaine and cold weather.
Running down my face were more than a few white lines of snot residue, which was numbing to witness in my reflection, but, numb, also the reason I had no knowledge that my nose was running at a pace that could streak my face like jet airplanes and chemtrails.
Melle Mel Warned Me in ’83 Not To Do It
The year was 1984. I was an intern at CBS Radio Chicago, specifically WBBM-FM, B96. One of the jocks at B96 had taken a liking to me and I found myself invited to parties with record company execs, radio royalty and sometimes pop artists, and the common hors d’oeuvres served at these functions was cocaine, and despite knowing in high school that I’d never do heroin, cocaine or LSD, the first line offered to me was sucked through a straw in no time, and because I didn’t die like I thought I would, this lifestyle became like lather, rinse, repeat.
At one of the gatherings was another air personality from the station; a guy who was unlike the others and wasn’t offering cocaine and alcohol, but instead tried shoving something else down my throat; Jesus Christ. I say tried because I got in his face fast to shut him up. How does a guy who is going to throw Jesus in my face when I’m having the best time ever with the coolest people I will ever know even get to a station of this caliber?
‘Wagman w/ Limahl @ B96 promoting Never Ending Story, circa 1984’Eventually, something worse than frozen mucus on a cold morning happened at the doors of Columbia College and that was that when the people entrusted with the keys showed up, I was not where I was supposed to be, but instead because of heavy partying, I was asleep. And like in baseball, three strikes and you’re out, and a young Jeff Kapugi, then WCRX station manager had to fire me.
I dropped out of college, beginning a trek of radio markets from Chicago to Rockford to Providence, where I would become an air talent and marketing and promotions guru for Dave Richards at WRX.
I brought my Rhode Island girlfriend, Erica, with me on a trip to see the family in Illinois. We ate at Edwardo’s Pizza in Chicago, sitting next to a bunch of students from Moody Bible Institute. Erica noticed their school bookbags with insignia and told me they were WOBACs, an acronym for Whacked Out Born-Again Christians. I took that moment to tease them in my own way.
“Hey, are you guys Born Again?”
“Yes,” they answered back emphatically.
“Yeah, us too,” I said, when that couldn’t have been further from the truth.
By late 1990 my habits had caused me another good job, (WWKX Providence Marketing Director) and the phone was no longer ringing. The money was running out fast, and reality was about to strike me square across the face. Read of Rob’s firing in RI by clicking here
Like The Capture of El Chapo, I Was Stuck
And while I dove into white collar crimes to make ends meet, a story that I can share in a later piece, I was about to see the consequences of my actions, lack of discipline, pride and ego trap me in a corner like a rat wanting to attack but no longer finding the cracks in life’s structure to craftily gnaw and escape.
And one day, in a depression beyond the wildest extremes, I found myself stuck in bed past noon, having no reason to get up and start the day, let alone live. And as a last-ditch effort, and great desperation I threw words in the air and found myself saying, “God, if you are not in my life, I cannot continue to go on in this life.”
In a milli-second, it was as if the air conditioning and road noises became ultra-quiet, and a peace beyond understanding came over every part of me, and a voice from the outside whispered into my soul, saying, “Robert, everything will be okay. Trust me. Follow me.” And for the next 40 minutes, I sat up in that bed in silence as the feeling of extreme love, like the most on-time hug and embrace times one million overtook me.
I would rise from that bed with the greatest purpose I had ever had from the time of my birth on June 9th 1965 at 12:30 pm, to a new date of beginning, February 5th, 1991, also at 12:30 pm.
Custer’s Last Stand
Cocaine would attempt one last time to hold me down, as in late summer ’91 at WEQX Vermont, the opportunity arose and like the first time I had ever seen it, I inhaled it despite my fears, except for this time, that voice that told me everything would be okay, showed up and whispered, “No, this is no longer you.” I never used again.
It was Jeff Kapugi, who would fight to hire me at WFLZ/Tampa, where I would rise from part time jock to Marketing Director, wearing my faith on my sleeve, now becoming like that guy who stood out like a sore thumb in Chicago trying to tell me about Jesus.
In 1995, I would be hired to program start up, B93.7, WFBC Greenville, where my midday jock was Scott LeTourneau, who was, in fact, that guy from that wild Chicago party, who while watching a lot of us indulge in the arts of body poisons, cared enough and was bold enough to offer an alternative. Read the story “Scott LeTourneau and the Perfect Aircheck Session” by clicking here
You’d think the guy on the radio telling of his escapades of cocaine and alcohol was the jock on a rock station or some other format in the Windy City, but it wasn’t. It was Karl Clauson, morning talent on a Christian outlet owned by none other than Moody Bible Institute, WMBI, in full transparency and authenticity sharing the tale of how God got a hold of him in the cloud of his binges.
Moody Radio recently invited me to speak to all of their US-based morning shows, where not only was I able to share with them how to effectively execute content that penetrates the soul, but where I could share of that fateful day of pointing the finger at the students and asking, ‘Are you Born Again? Yeah Me, too.’ Except now…it was true.
Karl & Crew -- Ally Domercant, Karl Clauson, Jonathan Renke & Diana Berryman, mornings on 90.1 WMBI Chicago -
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