The Unofficial Duke&Banner Autobiography

"CRIMINALS"

NOTE: So far, all these words center around me and Bob. (Bob and I?) This is being done chronologically. We will be adding more characters soon. I should also issue a disclaimer here: I have consulted with some of the individuals who were involved. In some cases their view of chronological order was conflicting. Therefore, there may be some mistakes. But the most important part is: Finally, it’s in print, for the whole world to see. And…if you finish this book, and then have a desire to go out there and reclaim your 1^st amendment rights, not only will I will be fulfilled, but, most likely, so will your community!

We left you in the last chapter with the Robert Hall jingle dancing around in your head, which, I swear…played every year like clockwork, just to annoy ME! “School bells ringing” might be a truism, but “Children singing”? Certainly not me! And I really did hit the fan on that fateful day in September ’64, when I found myself being summoned into the Assistant Principal’s office after a wonderful time with my DHS councelor. Mr. White stared at me without remorse: “You can’t have Electronics Class this year.” Before I had a chance to hit the ceiling, he concluded his monolog. “We have added prerequisites this year. You must have a “B” or better in a previous English class, and your “D+” average is too low.” It took a few seconds for his words to jell. Eventually my mouth dropped, then I let him have it:

With no emotion he showed me the door. As I walked away, I went past the real Principal’s office. The one who was never in. Wowie Zowie! He was actually in this time, but I was so angry, it was probably good we didn’t meet. Hey, this year I was going to be a very proud Duarte High School Junior Achiever! [ed note: pardon me…I think I’m gonna be sick]

But, as it turns out, there actually was some good that year. It came in the form of my Metal Shop teacher, Mr. Bassemier, and it made me think: “What is this thing about German teachers?” Unlike the Pro-Hitler Mr. Rother, Bassemier didn’t keep a copy of ‘Mien Kampf’ on his desk. Maybe his copy was being rebound. But he apparently took an interest in me. He waltzed over to me one afternoon as I was banging on some sheet metal with a sledge hammer for a class project. Great for removing frustrations!

The Totally Angelic Mr. Bassemier posing in the 1966 Duarte High School Yearbook. Why did they give him a hammer? Is he gonna go bash somebody with it?

I began to realize something here, and maybe it does go back to the days of Hitler. Germans seem to have a natural interest in science, and encourage kids to learn more about it. After WWII, we stole many inventions from the Germans. During the war, state-of-the-art audio recording for the USA was either on record-your-voice phonograph records that scratched up, or on hard-to-edit wire recorders. After the war ended, giving a nod for his extensive work with the USO, the US Army awarded Bing Crosby with a confiscated German-made tape recorder. Better yet: they allowed him to take credit for a US patent. The first professional Ampex units rolled off the shelves in 1949; the first Webcor home units hit the stores in 1951, complete with a US made “Eye” tube for measuring volume levels. Crosby was getting rich from all the royalties!

I can hear you all asking: “Just what is an “eye” tube, Bro Duke?” If you read on, you’ll get your answer.

One afternoon, while hanging out at Bob’s, I discovered he was grinning. This was hard to believe. A depressed boy grinning? Yes, it was true: and it was all due to a radio. His next-door neighbor, a Mrs. Bramble had given it to him. It was a very well built unit apparently sold by Western Auto, an auto parts store. The Western Air Patrol radio [ed note: the brand name sounds more like a movie series] was constructed in 1936, and wasn’t working. That’s where I came in. No, I didn’t have much experience repairing a radio, but hey…if I can build a transmitter from scratch, shouldn’t I be able to fix an old radio? And the answer was: YES! It took a few days, but before long, it was perking. Bob christened it: “Green Eye.” It had 2 bands: AM and Short Wave, and would later prove to be an important piece of test equipment for me. A somewhat dim Eye Tube served as a tuning indicator. The more the eye closed, the stronger the signal. For the meantime, however, it gave Bob an opportunity to lay horizontal in his bed and watch the eye stare back at him. He placed it by the head of his bed, on a table for easy reach. This was 1965. The radio never changed position, nor did the bed change, despite the changes that Bob had to make whenever he moved. In 1999, some 34 years later, Bob retired Green Eye. The dial cord broke. But he’s using the same bed (some evidence suggests the same pajamas) that he had in ’65. There’s also evidence that he uses the same era cup to drink soda. Once white inside, it is now totally brown, and hasn’t been washed. Ever!

But you have to consider all the events that went on before TV was invented, and probably heard by Mrs. Bramble over her radio: Pearl Harbor; Hitler; VE-Day; VJ-Day; Inner Sanctum; Amos & Andy; Jack Benney; Fibber McGee, etc.

Green Eye was a sensitive radio, pulling in all sorts of stations he had never heard before, such as KOB (Albuquerque, New Mexico) or WWV (Fort Collins Colorado.) The latter Short wave station is run by the government and gives a precise time as measured by an atomic clock. It’s as boring as hell: Tick…Tock…Tick…Tock. Bob loved it! Jeez, even Caedmon records were more exciting than this!

Here then, is a colorful and informative chart on what Bob was able to pull in and listen to while he was laying horizontal and staring at Green Eye, taking into consideration the highly controversial FCC decision that Media Deregulation was as American as Mom and Apple Pie, and we're all gonna love it:

A few notes on the table:

1) WWL broadcasted live from the Roosevelt Hotel in Beautiful Downtown New Orleans, and frequently featured concerts by Xavier Cougat. But even in the 50's, the Mambo and Cha Cha format was an oddity. WWL was probably the most original station in the whole country at the time. Though Prez Prado introduced alot of kids to Mambo & Cha Cha with "Patricia" in 1958, he was considered a one-hit wonder. By 1960, radio programmers were all saying in unison: "Cha-Cha-Who?".

2) KOA's website, now owned by Clear Channel, is a hoot. Currently the FCC is very concerned about Radio & TV radiation (RFR), and its effect on humans. It is going around the country and forcing stations to deal with this problem. Apparently since Clear Channel bought KOA, lots of citizens have been complaining about picking up KOA on their telephones, bed springs, and various household appliances. Clear Channel is addressing that issue by hiding behind the original 1941 NBC license and citing urban sprawl. What they don't say, and this is very important: The Government now believes that RFR is very dangerous, and what passed in 1941 may not actually fly in 2003. CC also didn't bring up the new audio equipment they purchased, which gives the station interference-prone modulation peaks, the likes of which the original license never considered. If you want to see Clear Channel's pathetic response to the citizens of Denver, here's a link, click on the blue CC.

What Clear Channel doesn't want its listeners to know: Recently at Mount Wilson in Los Angeles, the FCC forced 2 FM's to actually lower power because some engineers may have been getting fried as they worked in the area.

Ahh, I can hear you asking:

"But Bro Duke, did the FCC cite any Clear Channel stations in Los Angeles or anywhere else?"

And the answer is: NO!

According to Harper's Magazine, for the past 5 years, CC paid for hundreds of free trips and vacations for FCC big-wigs. So don't count on any action against CC, even if it means we're all going to die from Cancerous Radio Waves!

And it brings back a memory: Back in the free love 70's, while Arnie Schwartzenegger was smoking Medical Marajuana and having interracial group sex with a prostitute, a lowly KTTV engineer placed a small personal ad in the Los Angeles Free Press asking for a Christmas live-in honey. It turns out that during the winter, it was his job to sleep with the huge KTTV transmitter high above Los Angeles and keep it operating. Mt. Wilson would get snow, so deep that even a 4-wheel drive couldn't get out, and he needed someone to keep him warm at night. Gee...I wonder if they're glowing yet?

3) KEWB/KNEW was added because historically, KEWB was the sister station to KFWB. KEWB's signal did not make it to Bob's radio. It couldn't. Technically, the few stations that the FCC licensed at 910 AM really sucked. Because 910 is a multiple of the IF frequency of most home radios, it created a whistle that wouldn't go away. Car radios, however, had a different IF and recieved the station clearly.

KFWB and KEWB were both started by Warner Bros as a means of promoting their movies. In the 40's, on-air guests included such celebrities as Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall & Edward G. Robinson. The free-standing antennas (no guy wires needed) were on top of the Pacific Theatre on Hollywood Blvd; KFWB studios were next door with a big neon sign of a microphone.

The Real Don Steele, who became a fixture on KHJ in Los Angeles, started his career on KEWB. And in researching this chapter, we discovered some streaming audio of his gig in Northern California. Wow, cool! Click on the KEWB-910 call letters to go there.

4) Speaking of Clear Channel, we couldn't resist calling their format for KNEW (formerly KEWB) the "Hate Talk" format. It is unproven if the hourly bashings of Gays, Mexicans, Arabs, Jews and/or Blacks is causing listeners to become violent, but the format sure takes advantage of deregulation. "Providing equal time for political candidates in a controversial non-news program" is still on the books this week, though it doesn't matter as no Democrat ever bothers to use the law when they're being attacked. Off the books is a little known provision that targets ordinary people like you and me. Used to be, if a licensed FCC station mentioned your name in a bad way and caused an angry mob to gather outside your door because you look like an Arab, they also had an obligation to allow you to tell your side of the story. That was called the "Equal Time Law."

Clear Channel seems to be having a field day now that this law is gone. Now when they attack people, not only do they prevent the attackee from defending himself, they also have the audacity to pre-screen and delete calls from listeners who do not agree with Clear Channel's agenda!

Works very well at getting more Republicans in office. And to be fair, we should say that there are other large corporations out there who are doing the same thing. But to quote the wonderful KNEW website: "We provide lively debate, good radio." Oh, Man...I'm gettin' all choked up!

5) Citadel had the audacity to change a prestigious 3 call letter station built in the 30's from KOB to KKOB. Built before public radio was even a dream, KOB proudly proclaimed in 1955: "We Have No Format!" At any given hour, the programming could be Classical, Counry, Jazz, or Broadway Show Tunes. Citadel changed all that. Hey, let's talk about something important, like...what's the best movie of the year?!

6) KNBR has to be the worst-case scenerio of radio deregulation in San Francisco. Once a flag ship of NBC, under the Susquehanna helm the new format is officially called "Sports Talk." However, Susquehanna should consider changing the name to "Commercial Talk." The station manages to cram as many as 15 commercials in-between programming segments. Does anybody listen? I suppose if you have a Very Low IQ, it may have some redeeming value. And this late note: Under the current deregulation rules, Susquehanna now has purchased 1050AM, once owned by local media mogul Jim Gabbert, and it using it to double their Sports/Commercial Talk noise in San Francisco. It is technically not a simulcast, but a delay of virtually everything you hear on 680. Oh Boy, I can't wait!

And now...Back to our story:

I knew something was wrong when a frantic knocking came at the door, very early one Saturday morning. It was the owner of a nearby Motel. I heard the words. My Dad had died. By the time we got there, his body was already gone. As it turns out, he gave his body to UCLA for study, and that’s exactly what they did for a few days. By the end of the week, he was in a casket, patched up, and ready for burial. It must have been a relief for my Mom, not having to look over her shoulder. Aerojet was nice, and donated a few hundred bucks my way. My Mom’s Uncle pitched in and we bought a car, of sorts. Our first car. Later I would learn just how gutless a 1960 Falcon is, with its huge 144 cubic inch engine and the power consuming Ford-O-Matic transmission.

My Mom had taken a job to pay the bills. But even with the car, my Ma continued to take the RTD Bus to her job. My enjoyment of school (or lack thereof) was taking its toll. I began having problems waking up. Yep, I was emulating Bob! I was getting to school later and later, which was making me ‘tardy’, and giving me a trip to the attendance office. Unfortunately my stubble was also getting noticed in the office, which eventually kicked me into the Attendance Supervisor’s personal office. Bald Eagle Wilkie had a special totally dull shaver just waiting for me. How old was it? It had “Re-elect Lincoln” inscribed on the handle. Honest! That’s true! I couldn’t lie, could I?

Then it dawned on me: A car! I could sleep an extra half hour if I drove a car to school! And what a fine rationale I had for driving it without a license: If I could broadcast without a license, then why can’t I drive without a license? Man, what a deduction!!

And the car helped immensely. No more tardies! I got home before my Mom did, so how could she possibly find out about it? Oh, this was going to help out a lot! It even had a radio, so I could listen to KFWB.

So was I a speed-demon? Did I drive like I was the only car on the road? Did I do donuts, as depicted in most of the TV Car and SUV Commercials these days? In a word: No! Did my Mom find out? In a word: Yes! Funny thing about neighbors: They talk! Fortunately, however, she was not vindictive. She just insisted that I get a license. Curses! Busted Again!! I suppose I should be happy she intervened before a cop did!

Every High School has a band. And when looking for a beat, you can’t beat having a Black dude for percussion. Yup, while the horns tooted a little off key, and while the piccolos cleaned out the wax in your ears, both Bob and I focused on the drummer. Gideon would never win an award for his good looks. But when it came to drums, hey! He gave Ringo a run for the money. Always precision beats on time, and loud enough to shake the rafters of the assembly hall. Not only that, but he was also loud enough to drown out the off-tempo cheerleaders at pep rallies. Gideon managed to keep us awake.

But the assembly hall always had problems with the PA system. It had a great potential with its 8 Altec-Lansing horns. But the amplifier, also made by Altec, kept on squealing. Jim Pearce was a student who excelled in electronics and extra-curricular activities. Unlike me, he loved English, and the school recognized him as a leader. He started an after-hours electronics club, and the school “pimped” him to set up the amplifier during pep rallies. I say pimped, not because they didn’t pay him, (which they didn't) but because if he missed some of his English class to set up the amp, the school gave him no credit. They made him stay after hours and make up what he missed. It’s OK---Jim admitted to me that he was British and admitted that he really enjoyed reading about some dude named Pip! He would frequently razz me by quoting a line in a Shakespeare play. He was quick to suggest that I’d have a fun time in his after hours electronics club, but my feelings were: Any extra millisecond I spent at the high school was a millisecond of freedom lost. It was like being in Jail! We would eventually, however, become friendly rivals.

I discovered that word was getting around about me. My homeroom teacher, Mrs. Spurbeck, would read the school notices aloud to the class. Once a week, she would read: “Electronics Club meets tonight after school in the Metal Shop.” Then she’d stop, take a gaze at me, and go back to reciting. I owed all that to the teacher’s lounge---a private place on campus where many teachers went to smoke cigarettes and who knows what else? Only teachers were allowed, and the telltale odors that emanated from their frumpy suits told all. Once, while I was in the Attendance Office, the real principal Dr. McGrew walked down the hallway, followed rapidly by the school nurse, Mrs. Anderson. The odor told all! Just what were they doing in that lounge?! It's supposed to be for teachers only! Were they, as Arnie Schwartzennegger would put it, "laying on each other" in a group sexual encounter? Oh My!!

And so…as spring approached and I began to gear up for another fun-filled law-breaking summer, a significant event happened in my Mechanical Drawing class. MD was but yet another class that I had no interest in, but was forced to take. Bob will tell you: An artist I’m not:

Artistic Ability: Bob............................................................................Duke

The teach turned out to be one of the meanest men I have ever met. Smith was old, crotchety, and probably a Taurus. His meanness became apparent in the form of a gift made to the school. A local factory that made electronic equipment had donated dozens of boxes of surplus parts. Tubes, resistors, capacitors…they were all there! Why they ended up in the Mechanical Drawing class was an unknown. Bassemier’s Electronics classroom was another 500 feet away, up a small incline.

The boxes were stacked near Smith’s desk. And so...as soon as the bell rang, marking the end of class, I made a beeline to survey all the potential parts. Parts that could help me expand my signal! By the time I got close enough to touch, Smith took a defying stance, and wedged himself between me and the boxes. (The boxes and me?) (I and the boxes?) My kid-in-a-candy-store euphoric buzz quickly ebbed as my eyes drifted from the colorful boxes, to the mostly gray…and now frowning…Smith. Stale cigarette smell headed my way as he opened his mouth to emote:

My head hung low as I left Smith’s classroom. I’m don’t remember what my next class was, but I’m thinking that I wasn’t exactly a bundle of joy when it started. In fact, I wasn’t a bundle of joy for the rest of the year! The boxes of parts continued to collect dust for the remainder of the semester. My desk was located at the very back of the room. The parts were up front, by Smith’s desk, so he could personally guard them. It wasn’t close, but I could make out some of the parts. My mouth salivated at a huge tube poking out of one of the boxes. Perfect for future experiments!

Quite a few times, in handing test papers to the teach, I would plan a route that would bring me next to the boxes. Each time Smith’s evil eye would spot me staring at the boxes, and he would make a verbal warning as his crotchety hand reached out to grab my paperwork. Oddly enough, there are no pictures of Smith in my Duarte High School Annual, so I can’t give you any visuals. All I can say is that he was old, wore a frumpy suit, and was most likely…NOT German!

After spending some time with Bob, I discovered something interesting [thank you, Truman Bradley]. While the radio I fixed for him worked well, many of mine did not. In my home, they all had the same problem: they were picking up hum from the power lines, and the rocky soil that the house rested on was creating grounding problems.

Bob’s house, on the other hand, had an orchard, and the soil was moist. Could that improve my signal? It was a test worth trying. From the few hundred dollars I got from Aerojet, I took out $1.25 to buy a brand new 20-foot 2X4 stud. The only problem was to find a good time to do this.

As it turns out, both Bob and I were both playing hooky on that fateful day in May. Ahh! I learned a lot from Bob. All I had to do was tell my Mom that I was sick, and I could have the whole day to myself---free from Verbs, Adverbs, and Shakespeare! And free from memorizing stupid dates.

Does it really matter if I know the exact date of the Civil War? Is it important to know that Columbus discovered America in 1942, right in the middle of a Red Skelton movie screening at a New York theatre? No!

And, just like Bob, my stomach ache problem mysteriously disappeared right after my Mom called the school to tell them I was sick. I got an extra hour nap as she prepared for work. Right about the time she punched in her time card, I woke up, all refreshed and regenerated!

Jeez, maybe even God was organizing this. Imagine my delight when I called over to Bob’s house and discovered that he was also at home!!

“Did you have a stomach ache?” I asked, whereupon he affirminated my answer.
“Is it all healed up now?” I asked, whereupon he affirminated again.
“Great! We’re going to the lumber yard!” I said with gusto.
“Can’t I just stay at home in my bed?” Bob pleaded, to no avail.

In an hour we had plotted a route down Hwy. 66, Huntington drive. Since neither of us had a truck, and fitting a 20-foot 2X4 on a Ford Falcon would be an impossible task, we decided to walk with it: Bob at the front, guiding the thing.

Actual Route Of Terror

I cannot tell you how odd it must have looked to people driving down the road, watching 2 kids navigating on the sidewalk with a huge 20-foot long 2X4! I cannot tell you how many pedestrians, who were also attempting to use the sidewalk in the opposite direction, almost got bonked! I cannot tell you how heavy a 20-foot 2X4 gets when you’re carrying it on the sidewalk for over a mile! And finally, I can’t tell you how hard it is to make a 90-degree turn, and transfer your load from the sidewalk to a crosswalk!! Hark! Was that a store window we just smashed?

And it wasn't just any crosswalk, but a crosswalk that crosses Route 66, one of the heaviest traveled roads in the country, used by cars, trucks and numerous 18-wheelers! But how could it get any worse? I’ll tell you how it could get worse: when I heard Bob exclaim: “Oh no!”

What was Bob reacting to? Was a car plowing through the crosswalk? Was an 18-wheeler losing its load? No, the exclamation came from Bob’s observation of a certain Renault Dauphine, the car with two horns: a city horn: [beep!] and a country horn: [beep! beep!] And not just any Renault…this one was being driven by non other than Duarte High School’s Attendance Supervisor at large, Bald-Eagle Wilkinson! We both made every attempt not to look his way, but it was very obvious: Here were 2 young kids, who should be in school unless they were totally sick. And from the activity they were doing, it certainly didn’t look like they were sick!!

Oh My! Does Wilkie own a pair handcuffs?!

Truant Officer Bald-Eagle Wilkie's pristine 1962 Renault-Dauphine. An inexpensive car with two horns, but no hood ornament...we couldn't resist using his shiny head.