Al Heacock, the Perfect Stormer

The picture of Al Heacock and myself at Camp Rucker in Dothan, Alabama is the one I most treasure. We had just survived basic training. After 13 weeks of double timing everywhere, running obstacle courses, and lugging a 70 pound pack twenty miles, I was down to 165 pounds, and Al, usually pear shaped, actually had a discernible frame. In subsequent years, he and I posed for many a trade shot, but this is the one for me.

Al Heacock (r) and Happy Hare (l), having finished Army basic training at Camp Rucker, practice their newly found skills before entering the radio wars (Photo source: Happy Hare)

We grabbed every minute, when some cadre sergeant wasn’t bellowing at us, to talk radio, often hiding out of sight under the barracks.

We vowed to each other that, after we got out, whoever landed a job first would throw a rope to the other. I scored first at KCBQ in San Diego, and prevailed upon Lee Bartell to hire Al as my boss.

That was the last time I had to do anything for Al. He grabbed control at KCBQ and created a station that is still held up as a model of personality radio. I was one of those personalities, but this is his story.

After four blazing years in San Diego, Al and I went to WADO in New York, a six day operation that the Bartells tried to convert to seven days, and failed.

In less than a year, I was actually shadowing WABC’s Al Loman Jr. in the numbers, but it was not meant to be. The Bartells knew when to fold ‘em.

Lee Bartell left it to me to drop the bad news on Al that we were out of business in New York, but he backed me up with good news.

I sat down with Al, and told him right off that we were out of a gig, then took a breath and told him that the Bartells had heard from Bill Kaland the guru of Westinghouse Broadcasting asking if Al was free, and if so, he wanted him to program WBZ in Boston. Kaland, hearing me at WADO, wanted me in Cleveland to team with Specs Howard at KYW.

I am going to continue Al’s allegory by turning you over to Dick Summer, a distinguished broadcaster who did mornings at WNEW FM and worked for Al at WBZ in Boston. Dick, a fine writer has strong feelings about him.

Reading about Al in my piece last week, Dick was moved to send me the following essay about him at WBZ, that he had written some time ago.…

A LONG OVERDUE TRIBUTE TO AL HEACOCK.…………

It wasn't called "Classic Rock" all those years ago. It really didn't
have a name at first. But it was definitely a new kind of music. It was
music on fire. Hendrix, Morrison, Clapton. When I heard it for the first
time, it took me a week to get my eyes closed.

Here’s the perspective: AM radio was still king. Big 50,000 watt flame throwers like WBZ in Boston, WABC in New York, WLS in Chicago, and KFI in Los Angeles ruled. Almost all of them were built on tight top forty foundations. In fact, the play list at WABC was frequently more like the top twenty, with the emphasis on the top three. "All Hits All The Time." Jingle, jangle, jingle. The FORMAT was the BOOK. Except at WBZ.

Now it can be told. WBZ never had a format. The guys on the air played
whatever we wanted to play, including records from our own personal
collections, and tapes from local artists. And in between every single
record/tape, we had fun. Oh, we had fun. And people loved it. Today's top
radio stations pull around a ten rating in a major market. WBZ consistently pulled north of a twenty-five.

The mouths at WBZ belonged to Carl deSuze, Dave Maynard, Jay Dunn, Jeff Kaye (and later Ron Landry), Bob Kennedy, Bruce Bradley, and me. But the brains, and a lot of the heart of the station belonged to the Program Director, Al Heacock.

Al was smart. He was a quiet guy who made a lot of money in the stock market. But he really didn't care about the stock market. Al cared about his radio station, WBZ. It was a station with "tude." When we broadcast from our mobile studio, which was most of the time, we proudly wore our station blazers.

It wasn't unusual at all for one of us to drop in on somebody else's show and kibitz for a while. When you walked down the beach, you didn't need to bring your own radio, because everybody around you would have 'BZ turned on and turned up to stun. If you stopped your car for a red light, you could always hear 'BZ coming out of the speaker in the car stopped next to you.

For those of you who never heard the station, and for those of you who
work in radio and are curious about the legend that was WBZ, here's how
Al programmed his music: Each month there was a staff meeting. At the
meeting he would always remind us to play some of the top tunes he left
in the rack in the studio. And then he'd say, "I don't want to hear two
records back to back. We pay you guys to entertain. Entertain." What a
joy it was, what an honor to be a WBZ D.J.

Because it's a big college town, Boston has always had a strong Folk
Music tradition. At 'BZ, we were consistently playing original tapes of
unreleased songs like "Sounds of Silence" by Simon and Garfunkel and
"The Urge for Going" by Tom Rush, all kinds of stuff by Dylan, and Baez,
and "Suite Judy Blue Eyes" Collins.

I was doing a weekly MC gig at the Unicorn Coffee House, a major Folkie
spot in town. And I noticed that some of the artists were beginning to go
electric. I invited Al to attend one night. He did. and immediately
understood. The next day, he instigated 'BZs only mandatory music rule:
"One Liquid Rock' song (that's what he called the new music) per hour."

Almost immediately the new music picked up the nickname "Underground
Rock." The name was the only thing Al got wrong. He set aside two hours
on Sunday evening for the first big time "Underground Rock" radio show, "Dick Summer's Subway."

Then Dylan went electric, Eric Clapton formed "Cream" and Woodstock
forged a new musical and political conscience for America. and it went
roaring out on WBZ's 50,000 watt clear channel signal from Massachusetts to Midway Island in the Pacific. (I have an air check.) And the suits at Group W Radio were aghast.

It wasn't top forty. It wasn't anything they recognized. They didn't like it. They wanted it stopped right now. Al just very quietly said "no." For awhile, even the suits didn't want to mess too much with a 25 rating in Boston. But when Arlo Guthrie did a song called "Alice's Restaurant," featuring a line about the "mother rapers and the father rapers on the Group W bench," the lawyers at headquarters freaked.

The President of the Group took a flight from New York to talk sense into this crazy program director, Heacock. "Get it off the air now" was the order. Al very quietly said "no."

It was a classic "Radio Guy vs. Big Suit Guy." And Mr. Suit blinked. The order was changed to "well, at least edit that line out." Al very quietly just said "no." So Mr. Suit decided to drop in on me on the Subway show,
"for a friendly visit." The engineer called Al to alert him to the situation. Ten minutes later, Al was at the studio, asking Mr. Suit to join him for a quick meeting out of the studio. That's the last I heard of the problem.

Shortly after, Al was transferred to WINS in New York. A few months later, Group W turned off the music at WINS and started a highly successful all news format there. And just a few weeks after that,
Al was found dead in his shower. They called it a coronary, but I think they just broke his heart.

Soon after, the great Tom Donahue climbed on "Underground" music on his FM station out in San Francisco, Classical Music WBCN went FM rock in Boston, WNEW-FM went rock in New York. They even invited me to join them for morning drive, which I did, and in a little while, FM killed the AM king.

It probably would have happened anyway. But the point is that when you hear "Stairway To Heaven" or "Light My Fire," you're listening to one of the many echoes of the quiet but firm "no" WBZ's Al Heacock said all those years ago. I may have mixed up some of the specifics, it’s been a long time. But that's how I remember it.

So here's to a guy you probably never heard of. A guy who knew how to "just say no" WBZ's Al Heacock. Rest in peace, my friend. You taught me more than even you knew. You set me free on the air. Free. You were a lesson in how to be a real gentleman,. a real, powerful and gentle man. And for a whole generation of people who love music, you helped set the world on fire.

If you agree that Al Heacock should be in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and if you feel that it's worth a few minutes of your time to set the record straight, please take a moment to drop a (snail mail) note to: President, Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Foundation, 1290 Ave. of Americas, New York, N.Y. 10104. (They don't list an email address. but go ahead. dig out a piece of paper and an envelope. you’ve got some stashed somewhere.)

Thanks Dick. Now back to me………..

I can fill in the blank about what happened when the President of Westinghouse Radio showed up to order Al to lose the Arlo Guthrie song..

He called me, furious over the coming mano a mano with the President of the Group, Donald McGannon.

Al was on the cusp of resigning, and called me to vent.. My role was to act as a human bangboard while he was Roger Federer.

Al outlined the problem in his methodical way, then tried several solutions on me without asking my reaction, and finally hung up satisfied with a plan that I had nothing to do with.

His solution: he would talk to the President in “presidentspeak.” Psychological judo, perhaps, only Al meant it. At the final show down, he said ominously. “Sir, If you force my hand in this matter and make me lose face in front of my staff, I will no longer be useful to you, and will have to resign.”

He didn’t tell McGannon “no,” but gave him a coded message any top executive would understand. The president backed off. End of story.

Each day for Al was a struggle. He once told me, “Harry, when I wake up, and go to the shower, I have trouble deciding which side of my face to shave first.” Tragic irony: he died of a heart attack in the shower.

I hope you will honor Dick Summer’s - and my - petition that you send the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame a message asking them to make Al Heacock an honoree in their Pantheon of Programmers.

Al didn’t work with glory in mind. A brilliant administrator, he plowed through each new day with great skill, and an unwavering dedication to radio as an art form….that made money.

One major network player recently told me that had Al lived, he would, by now, have been running a network.

To those Immortals who sit at the Big Table.
Abrams, Blore, Drake, and Rook.
Make room for Al. He is your brother. He gave his life for us.

The Father and the Son….

A few weeks ago, I mentioned being involved as Head Of Financial Affairs, in the production of a movie titled “Kings of the Evening.” Our company is Picture Palace Films. The Writer/Producer is Robert. Page Jones, one of the most insightful screen writers today. His son, Andrew P. Jones, a gifted Hollywood director, assembled a cast of powerful actors in Bartlett, Texas, and crafted a movie penetrating the depths of the human soul. The setting is a poor bedraggled Texas town in the 30’s, a time and place where Robert Page Jones and Andrew P Jones take nothing, and breathe life into it, proving that Creationism exists in reality on earth. The story shows that it is in us all to prevail over grinding circumstance. I will keep you informed as post production is finalized, and this life changing story arrives at the theaters.