It was a jarring end to a very nice day in Wisconsin.
Sunshine had allowed for people to get outdoors in the afternoon and feel the brisk winds while some people took the warm weather as a sign to–at last–put up outdoor decorations. I noticed others raking lawns and terraces in the afternoon and kids out biking again before winter snows finally arrive. Everyone seemed to be outside and smiling.
And it was, without doubt, that same sense of uplift from such weather that people were feeling as they gathered in Waukesha for the best type of parade there can be—especially if you are a kid. The Christmas parade!
As we sat down for dinner on the isthmus we heard the devastating news.
We turned on the television and saw terrified people, with debris left all about after an SUV drove through the ones participating in the parade, or watching from the sidewalks. As I write some details are emerging with reports of more than 20 people injured, and some killed. The vehicle was located and photos show the horror that played out with the damage to the front end. The driver is in custody.
Of all the images that have poured out on Twitter, there was one, above all, that punches the hardest.
The news of who died has not been released as of this posting. But I can not help but consider that a child–not necessarily the one in the above stroller–left for that Christmas parade with pure excitement on the face, but will never go home again.
The speeding vehicle was simply appalling, and whoever was driving, utterly reprehensible. There have been enough raw nerves, pain, suffering, and stresses for our society in this state over the past weeks. No one should now need to endure this horrific crime ramping up to the holiday season.
I feel for all of the victims, but especially the children. How can that not be the case?
I know the following will sound hokey, but it is how I feel.
When I worked at WDOR our station annually broadcast over the radio a Christmas parade. Ed Allen, Sr. would create the theater of the mind as the sights and sounds were placed into words for the listeners throughout the Door County peninsula. And of course, he would chat with all sorts of people who attended. The best conversations were with kids who might otherwise have been taken aback by a news camera, but there was nothing to be afraid of from a microphone!
So Ed would engage them in banter and it was always the highlight to hear the expressions of delight coming from youngsters who were at that age when Christmas was magical.
It should have been the same for the boys and girls tonight in Waukesha, too.
While watching the CBS Evening News about the horrific tornadoes that struck large portions of the South an odd memory came to mind. During the report video footage from the RV service and repair business in Moundville, Alabama was shown. It was most dramatic to see the large vehicles tossed about like match-box cars.
But it was when the name of business owner Tommy Muckenfuss was carefully pronounced on the air that I smiled. And thought of the owner of WDOR, the Sturgeon Bay radio station where I had my first job in the 1980s. I had come across a name much like that Alabama man while on-air in a newscast and learned the hard way why always pre-reading the copy is a good idea.
When I slipped up shortly after starting my radio job and added a hard ‘k’ sound to the-then-City Attorney Staufaucher’s name it created a phone call from the owner. At least on-air I always had the ability at times like that to never look back and just keep talking. It was soon apparent to the owner that I knew my slip-up was not professional and I was determined that type of error would not be repeated.
Ed Allen, Sr. knew I had an old-school reverence for radio broadcasting and took my on-air time seriously. So he just reminded me to pre-read the names of local people I had not before encountered.
I had to smile broadly tonight as the CBS reporter, David Begnaud, eased up and over what Trevor James (my on-air radio moniker) would have plowed through with the hard K echoing over the country.
Broadcast legend Larry King died today at the age of 87. He was known as the suspenders-sporting everyman whose broadcast interviews with world leaders, movie stars, and ordinary Americans helped define American conversation for nearly 50 years. He was a constant part of late-nights for me on the radio, and I was so pleased to land on his program when his guest was David Gergen during the years President Reagan was dominating our politics.
The voice and tone of King had long amused me with his varied topics and guests. But it was his professional skills behind a microphone that drew me in my late teens and early adult years as a student trying better to learn more about effective broadcasting. I fell asleep to King so often and took notes in the dim light of the radio dial about ways I could become better in the studio. When I moved from an apartment in Wausau I left a rather cocky note that ‘the next Larry King had lived here’.
Needless to say, there is only one Larry King, and my ambitions in radio far outpaced my skills. But what he meant to me in my younger years, and how he inspired me to dream, and number of hours of listening can not be taken away.
I was a caller into King’s Mutual Radio talk show one evening in the mid-80’s–while I was also on the air doing a separate broadcast from the WDOR radio studio in Sturgeon Bay. While spinning the discs and give ‘time and temp’ I was also monitoring King’s program. Multi-tasking in broadcasting is something that becomes second nature after a while. (There were times when I was listening to two separate baseball games our station was broadcasting with one carried on our AM station, the other game over the FM station. I dropped in the commercials for each and at times even provided an update on the FM game for the AM audience!) So clearly monitoring King while doing my job on-air was not difficult at all.
Finally, King’s producer on the phone said I would be the next caller. I was feeding the Mutual Radio program through one of the studio’s reel-to-reel tape machines so my national moment with King could be recorded. (When was the last you were reading about reel-to-reel tapes?)
The world of technology from the tape machines in that radio studio to my current home studio never fails to alert me how far the broadcasting world has changed. I created this 41-second audio/video of the King phone call this morning. (Pictured below Larry King is that youthful broadcaster!)
It is a long way from my listening to Larry King with cheap headphones as a teenager in Hancock, Wisconsin. King walked a long road of changes in radio broadcasting and I have often wondered what a truly delightful interview it would have been for King to wing his way over the decades with stories about how broadcasting techniques evolved in his lifetime. Obviously, the need for lively and stimulating conversation remains the same since the airwaves were harnessed. It is just the methods used to get the broadcasts from a broadcaster to a receiver that has changed so remarkably.
And King, with a radio audience coast-to-coast, could make it seem he was talking to one individual on a personal basis. Readers have no idea how hard that is to truly achieve. That is what made him so meaningful to me. What I could relate to was his curiosity about people and how he had actual conversations as opposed to the work that reporters do to get down to the main point lickety-split.
“I don’t pretend to know it all,” he said in a 1995 Associated Press interview. “Not, `What about Geneva or Cuba?′ I ask, `Mr. President, what don’t you like about this job?′ Or `What’s the biggest mistake you made?′ That’s fascinating.”
It was that style that caught my attention as a teenager and what made Larry King a radio legend.
Among the best times at WDOR radio (Sturgeon Bay) was the Christmas season when it seemed cookies and sweets were always on the desk area in the middle part of the building. Late afternoons we aired Letters To Santa, and my first ever beef cooked medium rare—at a holiday party thrown by the GM–alerted me how mom needed to stop making meat gray! (She never did.)
The record collection of seasonal music over the previous 40 years made for a spirited sound for weeks on-air. And Keta Steebs from the local newspaper (Door County Advocate) calling and asking to have a seasonal drink for the holidays which meant as much talking local politics as anything else.
When I saw this pic (below) my mind flew back and smiles abounded. Life has been good. And radio continues to have a special place in my heart. As does the Allen family who thought I had what they wanted at their station.
Every four years Caffeinated Politics has made an endorsement for president. Each of the past four elections my sentiments were sincere, and the policy highlighted met with the needs of the time. This year I again make my call for president, but the issue driving my reasoning is by far the most important of my lifetime. That is because presidential character is on the ballot. This is the one election in our lifetime we absolutely must get correct.
The continuous bombast, crudeness, and reckless behavior from Donald Trump over the past four years were far more than this nation should have had to endure. It was due to his rants and childish ways that I retreated during a portion of each day to read history. I simply sought refuge from his self-generated chaos. But the reading always underscored the stark differences about leadership, decency, and virtue from the past as opposed to the sad reality of Trump.
Earlier this year I read the 1912 nomination speech from Warren G, Harding, then an Ohio newspaper editor, for President William Taft at the Republican Convention. The following portion showcases one of those moments of the stark contrast between then and now.
The nomination speech declared that Taft was “as wise and patient as Abraham Lincoln, as modest and dauntless as Ulysses S. Grant, as temperate and peace-loving as Rutherford B. Hayes, as patriotic and intellectual as James A. Garfield, as courtly and generous as Chester A. Arthur, as learned in the law as Benjamin Harrison, as sympathetic and brave as William McKinley……”
No honest person in the Republican Party today could pen a similar type of statement about Trump. No one in the future will wish to have their political career attached to Trump. Character, after all, is not a word that anyone can employ in a favorable way towards Trump.
We have always had a president in our nation who was able to show empathy and use words from the office to bring a nation together during times of crisis. That quality of a president has never, perhaps, been understood more clearly than now when we view its glaring absence.
I was on-air at WDOR the night President Reagan spoke to the nation following the horrific explosion of Space Shuttle Challenger. In my lifetime there is perhaps no other speech that so clearly demonstrates the role of a president at times of national crisis, or the heights of rhetorical balm that can come with the office. I sat in the broadcast studio and was moved to tears. Contrast national moments such as that one to the current occupant in the White House who continually stokes words to further the anger and resentments of people for partisan advantage.
Two episodes ring out that clearly demonstrate Trump’s lack of a sound character being most obvious, and troubling. During the 2016 campaign, he made fun of a disabled journalist. It was a truly pathetic display. During his term in office, he made one of the most gut-wrenching displays when he showed poor behavior toward the widow of Army Sgt. La David Johnson, who was killed in Niger. Trump failed to offer comforting words and then petulantly defended himself on Twitter. It was almost unbearable to watch play out on the national stage. The lack of his empathy allowed for some of his lowbrow followers to bring down a withering barrage of abuse on the grieving widow during what we all know was the worst moment of her life.
Those two examples demonstrate that Trump is not able to either resist being mean or fails to grasp the requirement of the office to lift others up when they need the nation’s support.
The episodes where a lack of character was evident are all too numerous and well-known. Veterans will never forget when Trump showed smallness when at first he refused to keep the White House flag at half-mast to honor the late Senator John McCain.
Character matters. We say those words often but also take the concept for granted. When the lack of character is so obvious and smacks at us daily, it becomes a reminder of how much this nation lost when Trump secured the votes of the Electoral College last election.
This year we must do what is right for the nation when we cast a ballot for president. We must do so for our collective national soul.
I can state upfront and with pride of being a Joe Biden guy! I have long known Biden to be a smart and capable man. In 1987 I supported him financially when he sought the Democratic Party nomination for the White House. One can never forget his earnestness in fighting the atrocities that were taking place in the Balkans, or his great work on the Judiciary Committee in stopping Robert Bork from getting to the Supreme Court. His background and breadth of knowledge on international issues make him a seasoned and remarkable public servant.
I can rattle off issues that Biden supports concerning climate change or tax policy which lands at my philosophical foundation. But all that is secondary to the core need of the nation. That is to again have a leader in the White House who understands why decency and virtue are vital for the strength of our nation. That is far and above thy most important reason voters must cast a ballot for Biden.
Voters can talk about their values or religious faith, but this is the time to prove all that is more than just mere words. After all, the idea of virtue is one that requires our diligence.
The idea of virtuous people in government was not lost on the Founders. They wrote and spoke of its worthiness repeatedly. Good character matters, and as individuals, we have a role to make sure the person sitting in the Oval Office is as solid and good as the people. In our republic, we have a responsibility to promote honest leaders in office who will make wise, fact-based decisions. When they fail at that most fundamental requirement of the office the voters must hold them accountable.
There is no way to pretend there are shades of a difference this year in choice for president. And there is no way not to fully grasp the call of our civics lessons from those many years ago. There is only one choice for the nation.
A brief shower failed to dampen the enthusiasm of Democratic Presidential candidate Walter Mondale and Vice-presidential candidate Geraldine Ferraro during a Merrill campaign visit. Applauding them is Congressman David Obey who represented that area in Congress.
On Labor Day 1984 I was attending the first major political rally of my life. It was also the first major political rally that I would report on for WDOR radio news.
I was young, eager, and so excited that I could barely contain myself. Days before the event I had gone through a background check to gain press credentials which allowed me onto the risers with the national press. Knowing I was going to stand alongside some of the journalists I had a deep respect for was as electrifying to me as being at a rally with a presidential nominee.
I had traveled from Sturgeon Bay to Lincoln County Fairgrounds in Merrill, Wisconsin in my light blue Chevet and still recall the feeling that life could not be better. I was doing what I had always really wanted to do, which was get close to politics and report about it. I knew then not everyone could say they get to live what they dream, and I recall attempts to slow down to better take in every moment, every detail.
Many broadcasters were questioning whether the traditional start of the presidential fall campaign was best done in a place like Merrill. If memory serves me right Walter Mondale and Geraldine Ferraro started that Labor Day in New York and encountered rainy weather. That the sky was gray and filled with sprinkles in Merrill was not lost on those who thought it an omen for the election outcome.
But Mondale saw it far differently. With rolled-up shirtsleeves, Mondale told the audience it did not matter whether it was rain, hail, sleet, or snow. The Democrats would make it to the polls on Election Day!
Once at the rally site I climbed to stand with the press and was truly pleased to be about three feet from Lynn Sherr and Brit Hume, both from ABC. I smiled to myself when Sherr asked Hume how to pronounce “La Follette” and I then laughed out loud later than night when she mispronounced it on the national news. Everyone has on-air slips, and it was comforting to see it play out in front of me.
To be honest being on the risers with the press could have been the culmination of the day and I would have been totally content.
When the music ramped up and Mondale and Ferraro took the simple outdoor platform and gave punchy dramatic stump speeches I knew at once that my political infection was for real. Never before had I felt so alive. So in the moment.
Geraldine Ferraro was loved by that crowd in Merrill. The applause was enthusiastic, and the warmth for her was genuine. Later I went down and recorded some interviews with voters and my thrust of the news story was how they viewed the first female nominee. Ferraro was breaking new ground and they were glad Labor Day in Merrill was where she spent some of her time.
I will never forget that first major rally, the sense of being young and living life.
I am pleased that in some small way I was able to brush up alongside the historic campaign year when Geraldine Ferraro was on a national ticket as the first woman.
As we now observe this Labor Day in a national health crisis and a most troubling presidential election year, there are many reasons for anxieties and dread. But I have found one personal story which has made for smiles in our home.
Now that baseball season has returned in some form due to COVID-19, I was reminded of a grand story from the pages of history when it comes to broadcasting and politicians.
When Ronald Reagan started out as a radio announcer at WHO in Des Moines, Iowa, one of his jobs was to recreate baseball games on the radio. He had a teletype machine that would feed him the action in the game, such as, batter grounded out to first, and he would have to describe the action as though he were there, complete with recorded crowd noise. Once, the teletype went dead, so he had the batter hitting a series of foul balls until the teletype went back on. That is being a true broadcaster under the stress of keeping something coming over the airwaves.
What reminded me of this was hearing a news report about the Minnesota Twins playing the White Sox in Chicago this week. The broadcast had recorded crowd noise as the stands were empty. The Twins announcers were in Minneapolis, watching the action on a big-screen TV, and calling the action from that stream. In a real sense that is the 21st-century version of what Reagan did.
When working at WDOR radio in Sturgeon Bay I wrote a letter to the White House press office asking for a chance at interviewing President Reagan solely on the topic of his days as a broadcaster. While that interview never materialized it would have been a grand conversation. The following is akin to what I am most certain our conversation would have been felt like.
If you sit on a bench at B.B. Clarke Beach or notice certain Hosta plants at lawns in the area you are seeing a part of Henry Dudek. Many new faces in our neighborhood never knew Henry, while older residents will warmly recall him. May 11th is the anniversary of his death and I want to take note of the man.
Henry had over 26 varieties of Hosta at his home and was always dividing them and giving plants away. He would never entertain the idea of selling them, as he wanted to share his garden, and encourage others to grow their own. He even at one time planted a full garden of glorious blooms, with his own resources, on a neighbor’s lawn so to further beautify the neighborhood.
I first met Henry when he worked in the state’s budget office. My legislative project was to develop a program to stop the looting of underwater shipwrecks on the great lakes and to incorporate those sites into tourism destinations. I had come to learn about the need of such a program when working as a radio broadcaster in Sturgeon Bay.
I had walked home with Henry from the Capitol, as we both lived not so far apart. But I was not allowed to make my pitch for the idea until the tea was brewed and properly served at his Spaight Street home. Certain social rules were to be observed! Henry would write approvingly of the mission, and the governor did not remove it from the state budget.
Many years later James met Henry through a shared interest in languages. Henry was a Latin scholar, James a professor in French and Spanish. Henry would make fun of James for speaking ‘lesser languages’!
In time the combination of interesting people in Henry’s orbit would include our attending salons at his home where conversations and laughter would linger for hours. James and I were introduced to a wide range of intriguing people, including Henry’s best friend, and now a long-time neighborhood resident, Rolf. A continuing friend of ours over the many years.
Henry died on May 11, 2007. James and I made the decision for the condo association to place his ashes in all the flower beds that were in existence at that time. There is a real sense with each mowing or planting over the years of the friend who still shares a bit of the past and present at this home.
Henry willed several friends who were close to him money, and also provided a local gay non-profit a sizable endowment. James and I were willed his condo. It was a most generous act that changed our lives. We moved from the West Side to this neighborhood in August 2007. We started at once to put our fingerprints on the entire property with improvements and beautifications. In 2019 we used our legal rights to bring an end to a truly comical selling process and finalized the purchase of the top two floors of the 1892 home.
I know Henry would be pleased with the total transformation of the interiors of the upper floors, including a many weeks-long total re-wiring of the house. He would doubtless smile at the third-floor broadcast studio, too.
Henry loved to sit at the beach across from his home. After his passing, and since he requested no grave marker, a decision was made to use the remaining portion of his estate funds to have new and artistic city benches created for the park. Today when out for a walk, (with a mask, please) stop for a spell at one of the benches. Look around and note the plants on the backside of the place you sit. Those, too, are from the gardens of Henry.
The circles of life continue in a variety of ways. Henry Dudek still demonstrates that fact. Thanks for reading and coming to know Henry for the first time, or smiling again with a fondness for a truly kind man.
Below is a great memory of the colorful cows that dotted Madison. Pictured is Henry, Gregory, and James.