I'd volunteered doing brief newscasts at the University of Alberta while in broadcasting school in the late 80's. It was a tad nerve wracking but someone else was manning the controls and everything was scripted, so there was a modicum of comfort.
My first "real" radio job came in 1989. I was hired as an evening "jock" at CJYR radio in Edson, Alberta. The station personalities referred to it as YR Radio. The locals were often overheard asking themselves "YR you listening?" This was probably due to the fact that the station suffered from a massive personality disorder. The format was an eclectic mix of country, rock, and pop. It was essentially the bottom rung of radio broadcasting. In other words, a great place to start.
There was a wide variety of personalities that took to the airwaves at YR. The morning man was Dave Shook. He was a local boy whose greeting each day was "Wakin' and shakin' with Shook in the morning." That left a mental scar that hasn't healed. Dale Michaels was afternoon drive. Both had really awful moustaches that went out of style about ten years prior. (Now that I think of it, Terry Mott and Chuck Farroh also had weazened moustaches as well.)
My mentor on the night shift was a gal from the Northwest Territories with frizzy blonde hair and went by the moniker "Katherine with a K." I honestly don't remember her real last name but I'm almost positive it wasn't "WithaK." I thought briefly of going with Graham with a G but opted rather for my birth name. I was so rattled in those early days that I didn't want to try and spit out something manly like Brick Samson and getting it horribly wrong.
I had a variety of educational and sometimes bizarre experiences during my tenure at YR. But I also learned a valuable life lesson.
I can remember my first night manning the control board "solo," so to speak. Katherine had been my mentor for several nights. I shadowed her and was impressed with how effortlessly she spun the LPs and quipped over the air between songs (this was in the days of dual turntables, folks; CD's were just becoming a thing).
Finally, it was my turn to take over. She would watch over my shoulder and offer suggestions. Despite the fact that it was just she and I in the booth, I froze. I remember it vividly. I was in the grips of one of the most powerful panic attacks I've ever experienced. I recall after the first commercial break removing my headset, looking at Katherine with what I suspect was an ashen face, and saying, "I can't do this." I was about 10 minutes into my first shift and was literally ready to walk away from something I'd been dreaming about since high school.
"I seriously can't do this," I reiterated as I started to get up. She put her hands on my chest and pushed me back down into the chair. "You're not going anywhere," she responded.
That moment has stuck with me for the past 26 years. Whether it be leaving my home country to begin a new life south of its border, starting college years later, getting married, becoming a father, starting the handful of jobs that I've had over the past 20 years, or even beginning this blog, as soon as the nerves begin to take hold, I can clearly hear Katherine with a K's voice in my mind telling me, "You can do this."
I left the radio business a couple of years after leaving YR following a stint at CKSA in Lloydminster, mainly because I wanted to grow accustomed to being able to afford groceries. But I'll never forget the advice of a 19 year old girl letting me know that you won't get on base if you don't get up to bat.
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