Transcript of verbal “farewell” to Jeremy – The Proof of Performance Pilgrimage

I'm sitting looking at your webpage, Jeremy, 795 friends (3 mutual), but I see a lot more than 3 whom I know through our shared love for community radio. I first heard your name the night I met Lorenzo Milam when I was introduced to him by his cousin, Lee, one of my elementary school classmates. In passing, he mentioned a kid that was riding all over St. Louis on his bicycle, hustling together whatever was needed for KDNA. That was 1968. At the time, I had no idea that “kid” was going to be such an important part of my life.

I realized your impact that day in December 1972, when you arrived in Miami to help put together the FCC application for what became WDNA. You and Laura Ellen came to stay at my house while we were putting together that FCC application.

What I noticed about you was your willingness to do whatever it takes to get a job done. I had asked a contractor who was working across the street, kitty cornered to my property… to come over 1 day with a backhoe and dig up a huge section of the backyard. In Miami, coquina (coral rock) is about an inch below the grass, so you really can't dig and plant a garden because of that coral rock, but that backhoe ripped up the coral rock and left It in a pile in the yard. There were about 10 cubic yards of dirt and coquina.

During breaks from filling out that FCC application, you went out with a shovel and tossed all that debris into a device we put together from and old bookcase and chicken wire to sift out the coquina rubble and leave just the dirt. You worked on it for days, if not a week. Ultimately, I had a wonderful garden right there on that little property that became the home for an RCA BTF-3B that you refurbished and shipped to me to be the initial transmitter for WDNA. That transmitter sat in my little wood frame house, a bit too heavy so it made the joists sag, and the corner of the door got pinched.

I could no longer get into the bedroom where the transmitter was a sort of bedside table. I had to crawl underneath and jack up the house to support that RCA BTF-3B.

That visit in 1972 was a lot more than just helping me fill out an FCC application. We jumped in your van and went down to Key West to record Radio Free Cuba. We then got in the van and drove to Atlanta and completed a proof of performance for WRFG, Radio Free Georgia. From Georgia, we went back to KDNA in St. Louis and did some administrative work there. On that visit to KDNA, you taught me the power of creative typographical errors. The IBM Selectric typewriter for the station had run out of correct-type ribbon and you instructed me, whenever I typed a wrong word, just take a moment and think in what direction the sentence could go with that as the correct word. I learned to roll with the punches under the thinking out of the box master, Jeremy Lansman.

We got back in the van and drove across the United States in a blizzard. Crossing Kansas in January of 1973, you went to sleep in the back of the van and left me at the wheel. As we crossed into Kansas at 25 MPH, a strong crosswind blew against the broadside of that Dodge Maxivan’s elongated tail as we descended from a gentle rise and the weight on the rear tires diminished. The wind blew us into a spin, and we wound up straddling a ditch after driving backwards about 100 yards. The impact of the abrupt stop bounced you from the bed against the ceiling and back to the bed. You very calmly lifted your head and said, "are you okay", and I said, "yeah, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Call me when the wrecker gets here", you said, and you went back to sleep. The wrecker came and pulled us out and sent us on our way for 20 bucks. We were on our way to San Francisco to do proof of performance for KPOO, Poor People's Radio.

When we got into San Francisco, we didn't have a place to stay, of course, so we just slept in the van. We parked the van in a garage down on the wharf. There were crevices between the beams where we were parked so we could hear the water lapping against the pilings below.

We ate breakfast every day at a restaurant called Bottom of the Mark. We were proud of the fact that most people go to the Top of the Mark... and we were dining at the Bottom of the Mark. Those were great times and throughout all of it, what impressed me was your willingness to be there with all of us average folk and do whatever it takes.

I'll never forget you, and I'm so grateful for the time that you were able to spend with me.

From all those who surely know exactly how special you were… rest in peace, my friend.