When AM radio and rock ‘n’ roll reigned supreme, so did Wooly Waldron.
I was driving in my son Eric’s car, with the radio tuned to a station called 103.5 The Arrow playing classic rock. I wasn’ t paying enough attention to remember the song that was playing, but when it ended I heard “Wooly Waldron at the microphone” and, poof, half-a-century disappeared. Just like that.
Suddenly I was a teenager again, a Jordan High Beetdigger, paying 32 cents for a gallon of gas, driving my dad’s Ford Fairlane 500, listening to the Beach Boys and the Beatles and everything else pretty much nonstop on KCPX and KNAK and, when the signal came through, KMUR.
Wooly Waldron was the ubiquitous disc jockey who spun all those records. It seemed like he was always on the air. For all I knew he lived in the radio and never slept.
Hearing his name made me feel ageless.
When I got home, I looked up the website for 103.5 The Arrow and there he was, big as life, listed as “on air talent.” I called the station. Could I talk to, uh, Mr. Waldron? Sure, they said, and gave me his number.
Turns out Wooly Waldron doesn’ t live in the radio. He lives in the south end of the Salt Lake Valley in a nice comfortable house on a cul-de-sac, where we talked one afternoon at his kitchen counter about life, longevity and rock ‘n’ roll — but mostly rock ‘n’ roll.
My first question: You must get recognized a lot by people like me?
“Yeah, but less and less, ” he said, “It used to be that it was 40-year-old people, then 50-year-old people, now it’s 60-year-old people, but it’s still fun. I get email and stuff at the station all the time from people who have been out there the whole time, listening.”
My next question: Is Wooly Waldron your real name?
Waldron is legit, he said, but “Wooly” is a name he gave to himself after he’ d been DJing about five years. “Everybody had a nickname, ” he said, remembering contemporaries like Skinny Johnny Mitchell and Big Daddy Bill Hesterman and the nationally-renowned Wolfman Jack, so when a song called “Wooly Bully” by Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs rocketed all the way to the top of the charts in 1965, he decided to play the record for three straight hours on the air and coronate himself “Wooly” Waldron.
My third question: Why are you still spinning records?
His answer: “Because I still enjoy it, and I still get to do it. I’ ve come full circle. I’ m doing a weekend show, which is the same thing I did my first day in radio. Crazy, isn’ t it?”
That first day in radio was in 1960 when Waldron was a senior at Ogden High School and was hired by the radio station in Brigham City, KBUH, to work a Sunday morning shift.
His immersion in rock ‘n’ roll music had come five years earlier, in the mid-1950s, when, in a stroke of perfect timing, he became a teenager at exactly the same time rock became music’s newest sensation. When 12-year-old Waldron heard Chuck Berry singing “Maybelline” and Elvis singing “Hound Dog” on KLO in Ogden, he was a goner.
He was so fascinated by rock ‘n’ roll radio that he built a mock radio station in his bedroom, complete with a console and tape recorder. He went to stations in Ogden for wire copy and brought it back to his bedroom to deliver announcements and “work on my pro-none-see-a-shun.”
He married Pam, his childhood sweetheart, six months after they both graduated from Ogden High (this year is their 56th anniversary) and went to work at the Brigham City station full time.
“They made me program director, which is a big deal unless you’ re in Brigham City in which case you’ re a guy who will work cheap and do everything, ” he says deadpan.
It wasn’ t long before he was off to the brighter lights of the Salt Lake Valley, where a legion of rock ‘n’ roll fans was waiting, myself included.
He started off at KMUR, working out of a studio in a car dealership on State Street in Murray, then was lured away first by KALL and later KLO back in Ogden before he moved on to KNAK — where he made his name and became Wooly. He then went to KCPX, the king of Salt Lake rock, where he stayed for 15 years until moving on to other stations, some of which he owned.
In the days when AM radio and rock music reigned supreme, so did Wooly Waldron.
He retired comfortably from radio in 1999 when he sold his FM-107.9 station.
But when The Arrow called in 2005 and asked if he’ d do some part-time announcing, he could not resist a semi comeback.
Which brought up my final question. Does he still love rock ‘n’ roll music?
“I’ m as big a fan as I’ ve ever been, ” he said. “I have 28,000 songs on my computer. I tell people I’ m a musicologist. I’ m not sure I am, but I know a lot about music because it’s such a passion with me.
“I’ m 74, too young to die and not too old for rock ‘n’ roll. What else am I going to do? What else would I ever want to do?”
