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Photos by Bruce Powell
By Cara Jepsen
THE MOST POPULAR show on the
100-watt radio station in
Three Oaks, Michigan, is
Saturday morning’s Dial-a-Deal, a
one-hour call-in program where
locals can buy, sell, or trade items
ranging from a pet turtle to a jersey
from a Russian hockey team that
played in the Olympics. In between
calls, hosts Penny Knowlton—of
Penny’s Little People day care
center—and her friend Diane
Ashcraft, owner of the Spectacle
Shop, deliver birthday and anniversary
greetings and homey repartee.
Ashcraft got herself in trouble one
day, however, when she said of the
annual egg hunt, “I suppose some
idiot will be dressed up as the Easter
bunny.” Immediately mortified, and
worried she’d outed the Easter bunny
to Knowlton’s charges, she added: “I
didn’t mean that!”
Despite the occasional gaffe, or
perhaps partly because of it, Dial-a-
Deal has been so well received
Knowlton wants to add another day
or expand it to two hours.
“Everybody has something they want
to sell—or buy,” she says. “Everyone
wants to hear themselves on the
radio.” She has fond memories of a
similar program broadcast almost 20
years ago in Crystal Falls, Michigan,
and several years ago she also listened
faithfully to Tradio, broadcast
from LaPorte, Indiana.
What made Knowlton’s show possible
was the Low Power Radio Act of
2000, part of an effort to undo some
of the damage done by the Telecommunications
Act of 1996, which
sparked a wave of consolidation that
continues to this day. Over six months
in 2000, during five five-day periods,
each for a different region, the FCC
allowed community groups to apply
for licenses for noncommercial radio
stations of 100 watts or less. There
was only 30 days’ notice for each
window, and most of the licenses went
to church groups that were already
organized and ready to go.
Former Loyola University communications
professor and New Buffalo
resident Lee Artz learned about the
FCC initiative in June 2000 at a
media conference in Maine. “It happened
to be at the very time they
were opening the window for the
second group of states,” he says,
which included Michigan. Earlier
that year he’d helped found the
Harbor Country Forum, an organization
that invited residents to discuss
local issues, and a radio station
seemed a perfect fit. The HCF and
other community groups applied for
a handful of licenses in southwest
Michigan’s Harbor Country region,
just over the Indiana border, which
includes Three Oaks, New Buffalo,
Union Pier, Lakeside, Grand Beach,
Michiana, Harbert, and Sawyer. “We
had the pretty grand idea of not only
doing it for Three Oaks but for all of
the neighboring communities, having
one central studio and putting up antennas or towers” in every town,
says HCF cofounder Jon Vickers,
owner of the art house cinema in
Three Oaks. After applying, they
heard nothing.
“When we first filed, we checked
the FCC’s Web site every week. Then
every month. After three years, we
checked it occasionally,” Artz says.
“Everyone pretty much forgot about
it,” says Vickers.
Then, in October 2004, they
learned Three Oaks had been
granted a license—and they had only
18 months to construct a station and
start broadcasting or they’d lose it.
First a location had to be found. A
Three Oaks resident offered some
old office space for $100 a month. “It
was a mess,” says Patty Panozzo,
owner of Panozzo’s Pantry in Benton
Harbor. She helped with the renovation
and hosts the popular food talk
show A Need to Feed. The 600-
square-foot space had served as a
drive-through bank and, before that,
as a spa: the studios sit above a
filled-in swimming pool. A local
architect donated the plans, a local
electrician did the wiring, and a local
contractor provided labor and materials.
Volunteers tore out the orange
shag carpeting. Program director
David Repetto helped do the tiles. To
figure out what equipment they
needed, they consulted Web sites
about low-power FM stations.
Community members donated
records and CDs. WRHC’s digs now
include a kitchen and a concrete
patio. The walls are covered with
bright murals done by River Valley
High School students. And Three
Oaks gave WRHC permission to
place an antenna on top of the water
tower, which is high enough to reach
a 15-mile swath of Harbor Country.
(There are plans to stream it live at
www.radioharborcountry.org.)
Overall it cost about $20,000 to
get WRHC up and running, and
yearly operating bills are estimated
at $12,000, a pittance compared to
what it costs to run a commercial or
even a college radio station.
Volunteers have created and now run
WRHC, whose motto is “100 watts of
power—1000 watts of community.”
“It’s one of the best examples we’ve
seen of a community coming together
to build an LPFM station,” says
Hannah Sassaman of the Philadelphia-
based Prometheus Radio Project,
an LPFM advocacy group and
clearinghouse. She says some 675
LPFM stations have started up since
the FCC application windows closed,
and just over 100 more are still in the
works. Current House and Senate
bills call for expansion of the act to
include more stations—Sassaman
says there’s room on the spectrum
for thousands of them.
In early 2005 WRHC put a notice
in the paper asking people to apply for
shows. The grand opening was May
13, 2006, but the station started
broadcasting late last year, when it
began airing an iPod shuffle mix (the
iPod still fills the spaces between
shows). The first real program played
on January 11, 2006—a jazz show
called Robin’s Roost, hosted by record
producer and former Chicagoan
Robin McBride. He chose to play as
his first song the Stan Kenton
Orchestra performing “Round Robin,”
also the theme music for his Amherst
College radio show back in the 50s.
Many of the shows are prerecorded,
including McBride’s and It’s
Elementary, in which children read
school announcements and the weekly
lunch menu, creating the program at
school using Adobe Audition. “There’s
a learning curve with starting a station
from scratch,” says Panozzo, who
started out doing an hour-long show
but soon realized half that time was
more manageable. “Radio doesn’t come
with an instruction book.” Volunteers
train people in how to use the equipment,
but there’s a backlog of future
hosts signed up. “It’s exhausting,” says
Panozzo. “We do everything ourselves—
we don’t have production assistants,
technicians, or editors.”
Dial-a-Deal host Knowlton says,
“We have glitches every week.
Sometimes we can’t get the callers on.
Sometimes somebody might say the
wrong thing. We have little malfunctions
all the time, but we just go with
the flow.” The station has plans to
institute more serious coverage,
including broadcasts of the syndicated
Pacifica show Democracy Now!and commentary on local issues, such
as proposals to expand a Three Oaks
Township landfill and build a casino
in New Buffalo. In that spirit, former
program director Linas Johansonas
aired a salute to Chikaming Township
on the occasion of its 150th anniversary.
“We told everybody to go down
to the town hall at one because they
were cutting the cake. The place was
packed,” he says. Now the host of
shows on Lithuanian music and the
polka, he points out that “the more
amateur you sound, the more people
love it.” As program director, he says,
he got complaints when a local actor
did the station IDs because they
sounded too slick.
Dial-a-Deal is the only WRHC
program that has a producer: 15-
year-old Nathan Oman, the older
brother of Knowlton’s youngest son’s
best friend (which she found out only
after taking him on). “Now everyone
wants a producer,” she says.
Knowlton and Ashcraft have
become local celebrities. They were
recently invited to emcee an auction
when the auctioneer didn’t show up.
“The lady in charge called when we
were on the air and asked if we could
come when we were done,” Knowlton
says. When they go to events like
these, she says, they wear “these outfits—
my husband calls them costumes—
that are black jackets with
‘Dial-a-Deal’ in pink on the back of
them.” The two get accosted in public
places. “I can go to Speedway,”
Knowlton says, “and people say, ‘Oh,
I listened to your show on Saturday’
or ‘I love your music.’”
“These are people who’ve never
done radio,” says program director
Repetto. “But you listen to them and
they’re naturals.
“I don’t think anybody expected
the station to grow the way it did,” he
says. In fact he’s gotten so many
applications for shows that the next
big hurdle is raising enough money
to complete another studio.
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