This article was printed in the December 2018/January 2019 edition of B2B. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe.
Television, the Hamer Way: Father-son tandem of Dave Hamer and Roger Hamer own combined 76 years in the TV news industry
Television, the Hamer Way
Father-son tandem of Dave Hamer and Roger Hamer own combined 76 years in the TV news industry
©by Leo Adam Biga
Appearing in the June 2019 edition of the New Horizons
Outside of Mike and Chris Wallace, there may not be another father-son tandem in broadcast journalism history with the pedigree and longevity of Omaha’s own Dave and Roger Hamer.
Retired television newsman Dave Hamer. 89. enjoyed a 1953 to 1991 career distinguished by many firsts. He was the first journalist to work at all three major Omaha network affiliates. He was America’s first local TV journalist to file stories from Vietnam. He was the first civilian reporter to fly a mission with the U.S. Air Force’s airborne command and control center, Looking Glass.
He covered the horror and hysteria of the Starkweather murder spree. As a street reporter-photographer, he covered storms, accidents, riots, political rallies and athletic events. He wrote-produced newscasts and documentaries, He captured the return to Omaha Beach of a Heartland veteran who survived D-Day. He gave back to his profession as president of the Omaha Press Club, the Nebraska News Photographers Association and the National Press Photographers Association. He taught TV news at UNO and co-chaired the annual News Video Workshop at the University of Oklahoma.
He’s been honored for his contributions to the field as an inductee in the Omaha Press Club’s Journalists of Excellence Hall of Fame and the Nebraska Broadcasters Association Hall of Fame.
Roger Hamer, 61, never intended following the family trade yet his 38-year TV news career now equals that of his father, Roger creates packages that see him do photography, reporting, editing. He also produces. He succeeded his father as a teacher at UNO. He, too..has earned much peer recognition for his work, including an Edward R. Murrow Award. He is well on his way to joining his father as a lifetime achievement honoree.
They have a combined 76 years in the business. Their professional paths formally intersected once, in 1991, when Roger, who began at KMTV, joined WOWT, where Dave worked his final decade. Roger is still there today.
“I kind of backed into the business. He never pressured me,” Roger said of his father.
“I don’t think I ever tried to talk you out of it either,” Dave told hm. “No, you never did,” Roger replied.
“i’ve been fortunate to always be surrounded by smart people very good at what they do. Of course, this guy,” Roger said, indicating his father, “helped me a lot when I was starting out. We would have lunch breaks in the edit booths at 3 (KMTV) and 6 (WOWT). I’d show him tapes and he’d critique them. We’d talk how to do stories. I learned a lot that way. He let me pick his brain. He was always generous in dealing with me.”
Then there came the workshop his father put on for newcomers and veterans.
“You don’t know how you’re going to act when your dad pops your videotape in and plays it in front of all these people and comments on it,” Roger recalled. “I hoped he was going to be as nice as he was when we were alone in the edit booths. But it was something along the lines of, ‘If this guy came in and wanted a job, I’d tell him to sell shoes,’ It was like the air in a balloon going out.
“But that was the best thing that could have happened because you need a kick in the pants now and then. The effort wasn’t there that he expected and that inspired me. It gave me a clue I could do better.”
By the time Roger established himself, TV technology transitioned from film to video. It’s since gone to satellite uplinks and digital streaming.
“Now he’s shooting live shots alone with a tiny camera,” Dave marveled.
“No truck, no cables, no nothing,” Roger confirmed.
“As long as you’re in range of a cell tower, you can send a live picture anywhere,” Dave said, “It staggers my imagination.”
“There’s an app on my phone called TVU Anywhere,” Roger said. “All I have to do is to call into the station. They pull me up – and we’re on. It’s instantaneous.”
“I try to avoid saying, I wish we had that back when I was in TV,” Dave said, “but I do wish we had that. But what goes along with this is that you’re under more pressure.”
“Yeah,” Roger said, “the technology is phenomenal, but it’s a blessing and a curse. The blessing is you can be live in a moment. The curse is the technology far exceeds our human capability of gathering information.”
Then there’s the rabbit hole of Google search results.
“With this avalanche of information you have access to, it can be overwhelming,” Roger said. “You have to determine when to stop because information overload can set in. There comes a point when you have to pull back and say, Okay, I know what I need to know.”
Roger’s grateful to have learned from a master like his father. “He’s a pioneer.”
A Wayne, Nebraska native, Dave Hamer segued from taking still photos in his hometown to stringing for KVTV in Sioux City. The eye he developed for composing portraits helped him transition to moving images.
A generation later his son Roger went from taking photos for the UNO Gateway and Papillion Times to breaking in at KMTV.
“The difficult part of going into motion (photography) was coming up with a closer,” Dave said. “You’ve told the story, but you have to have something at the end to cap it. You need the exclamation point.”
“Even now I struggle with closes.” Roger acknowledged.
They both love storytelling
“Every story’s got to have a beginning, middle and end. That’s utmost in television news,” Dave said. “You don’t just leave it hanging out there. I don’t think anybody ever told me how to do that. I just naturally fell into it.”
Both learned to cut in the camera.
Telling a story you pitched is preferred. “I had, and I think Roger has, the freedom to go to the front office and say, ‘Hey, this is a helluva story, We ought to do it.'”
Any excuse to get out of the newsroom.
“The daily routines never appealed that much to me,” Dave said. Same for Roger, who likes being “free from a desk” and “someone looking over my shoulder.”
Creativity and ineginuity come in handy on assignment.
“You run into situations you didn’t expect,” Dave said, “and you have to think on your feet, improvise and go with the flow. We always used to say, Have in mind where the story’s going to go but don’t be locked in because things will change. You’ll find better stuff than you imagined.”
When revisiting perennials, such as the winter’s first snowfall or spring flooding, Roger said, “the challenge is to make it different from the story before or different from what your competition’s doing.”
“That’s the fun part of it.”
Then there’s following your instincts and, as Dave said, “making your own luck” by being where the action’s at and seeing-capturing what’s happening around you.
The year Roger was born, 1957, his father helped launch Omaha’s KETV on the air.
“I had been there only a week,” Dave said. “There were only four of us in the news department. Six days a week were the norm. Sometimes Sunday, too, It was a challenge and great responsibility, but also fun. You had to do everything – shoot it, write it, maybe voice it.”
He left KETV for KMTV, where he worked the bulk of his career and where his colleagues included future network stars Floyd Kalber and Tom Brokaw.
“What his generation did set the groundwork for what we do today,” Roger said admiringly. “The whole idea of visual storytelling – of stories that are concise, make sense, have impact, elicit emotion and are accurate.
“Today, I think we’ve lost a little bit of that desire to find out as much as we can and make it as accurate as possible. In the rush to get things on the air NOW, we don’t always have the information to back it up exactly.”
“That’s a helluva challenge.” said Dave.
Adding to it is an ever more competitive environment.
“Now,” Roger said, “it’s Channel 7 tweeted this or Channel 3 tweeted that. Personally, I don’t care because I live by what I learned from old pros Steve Murphy and Mark Gautier – ‘I don’t care about being first, I care about being right.’ That doesn’t seem to exist like it used to.
“It’s a matter of feeding the beast” – otherwise known as the 24/7 news cycle. “You have to do all this social media stuff my father’s generation didn’t have to worry about or deal with.”
When Dave Hamer started, there were just two newscasts per day. “and even with that and the technology being so much slower,” he recalled, “we were still pressed for time.” “I wrote for nine years the six and ten o’clock newscasts on Channel 3. You barely got six o’clock on the air before you started writing the ten o’clock. You were always up to the wire.”
Early news pioneers didn’t have access to the vast amounts of video-on-demand content Roger Hamer and his colleagues have at the ready on devices.
“It would take us three or four days,” Dave said.
Today’s constant content demands and deadlines can be exhausting.
“You just don’t have the longevity of people in the field anymore,” Roger said. “People get burned out.”
Professionals with his equivalent experience in the biz, are “getting fewer and fewer,” he said, “and it bothers me because I don’t see the next wave of lifers coming up – and I wonder about that.”
Oddities and happy accidents are bound to happen over careers as long as the Hamers. Once. Roger shot news footage of a pileup on an ice-covered section of Leavenworth Street south of downtown. “We sent it out to NBC,” he said. A couple weeks later the video showed up in an SNL skit.
“‘They pirated my video for entertainment purposes. It took a couple months, but I got 750 bucks out of them and gave them a tongue-lashing. How do you know people didn’t die in that crash? That blurring of the line between entertainment and news shouldn’t happen. Once you send video somewhere you don’t have any control over what happens to it. But even if i don’t send it, somebody else will. Many different people have access to my video than ever before.”
Standard protocol is for networks to ask local affiliates to provide video.
“Sometimes it was a bother because I’d be working on my piece for the six o’clock and they’d want something right now,” Dave said. “You would do everything you could to get it there.”
“It just may not be right now,” Roger said. “I’m not going to send it to them until we air it. My obligation is to my station first.”
Dave once fielded an NBC request for footage of a blizzard raging in Nebraska. They needed about a minute’s worth. He dutifully shot the storm.
“The network’s Huntley-Brinkley newscast switched to Omaha live. I was on the phone with the producer from New York. He told us when to roll the film. We’d built it logically to show the storm getting worse and worse. Well, the last shot came up and the film broke. We were on live coast-to-coast and I was like, Oh, my God. The producer comes on and says, ‘Great job, Omaha, Man. what a storm – I couldn’t see anything in that last shot.’ We never told him.”
Memorably, Dave Hamer scooped the networks with his 1962 Vietnam reporting.
“The French had been kicked out in 1954. There was very little American involvement until about ’61 when we sent military advisers over. In April ’62 the first Nebraskan was killed in Vietnam – Army Special Forces Sergeant Wayne Marchand from Plattsmouth. He was wounded and captured in a firelight with the Viet Cong, then taken off and killed.
“We ran the wire story on the air. That was all we knew. Our general manager said, ‘What the hell was that all about? How come we’ve got people in – where is that place again? Within a month I was there because the front office said this is a story that should be told.”
Hamer and writer-producer Bob Fuller went as a two-man team.
“We did Marchand’s story, but while we were there we covered everything else we could find. We even did stories on Vietnam’s agricultural economy.”
The reporters stuck to a strategy.
“The first thing we did when we got in Saigon was check the overnight police reports for bombings, rocket fire at the airport and such to know what the hell was going on.
“We carried Department of Defense clearance paperwork that we never had to show. We had orders that allowed us to travel on military transport. If we couldn’t get military transport, we did what we could, even going by pedicab for God’s sake. Several times we hired a car with a driver. Sometimes we hired an interpreter. We could go anywhere we wanted. We checked in with the press office in Saigon when we got there and checked out when we left, They didn’t know where we were those three weeks. We were all over the country enmeshed in what was going on every day.”
Hamer and Fuller quickly learned U.S. involvement was larger than reported.
“There were 5,000 Americans in-country.. We went on helicopter support missions. Americans were flying planes and helicopters carrying South Vietnamese troops. The rule was fire only if fired upon,”
The entire western press corps in Vietnam then, he said, consisted of New York Times, AP and UPI correspondents, “and two guys from Omaha.”
“We had the whole story to ourselves. We did four half-hour documentary segments.”
The series was cited for special commendation by the Radio Television Council.
Fast forward three decades when Dave’s last major assignment took him to another war zone to cover Nebraska military personnel in Saudi Arabia.
Over time, he had offers to join the network in Washington DC, New York and Paris, but he and his wife Verla deferred each time. They liked Omaha.
Roger Hamer “tested the waters” in other markets but stayed put.
Father and son “competed” when Dave was at WOWT and Roger at KMTV. They were briefly at WOWT at the same time but never covered a story together.
Roger said there’s much they share in common. “One thing we share is we’re not the story – the people are the story. Nobody wants to see us. They want to see the people living the experience.” They each derive satisfaction, he said, “just knowing that we did a good job and put a good story together.” “You get those four, five, six stories a year where you go, I nailed it. That’s what keeps you going.”
“We show up with a camera and people stop what they’re doing because they know you’re going to tell their story. It’s important to them,” Dave said.
“You have to be genuinely curious and caring and want to be involved in your community, and in telling the stories of its people,” said Roger, who, like his father, is grateful for the many fine collaborators he’s worked with. “It’s wonderful to work with people as passionate as you are and who are dedicated to their craft.”
A love for teaching is something else they share. “I found teaching very rewarding,” Dave said. “The satisfaction of sharing what you know and seeing the light bulb go off is a big part of it,” Roger said.
Not to be forgotten, Roger added, “We’ve both been blessed being married to very strong, supportive women that understood what we do and tolerated it.”
Dave and his late wife Verla were married 61 years. “Verla was interested in what we did and was our best promoter,” he said. The couple lost their other son, Dennis, to a coronary occlusion in 2002.
The quiet-spoken, TV news trailblazer gets choked up talking about family. “I’m very proud of this guy,” he said, clasping Roger’s knee. “Roger is his own man, has made his own reputation. and lives it every day on every story. He earned the Edward R. Murrow Award. I was never even close.”
Roger appreciates what his father’s given him – from leading Scouts canoe trips to being “a great mentor.” “He taught me that if I’m not trying, if I’m not pushing myself, if I’m not putting product out I’m happy with, then it’s time to walk away.”
There may not be a third-generation Hamer in the field “Never say never,” cautioned Dave, a grandfather of two. Meanwhile, Dave writes a newsletter, Window on 53rd Street. he shares with family and friends. Like the man, it’s a warm, witty, sincere, humble take on a life well-lived and a career well-earned.
Though louder and more outspoken than his father, Roger is a mensch among newsmen just like his old man. A passing of the torch has occurred in another way. Where Roger used to be asked, Are you any relation to Dave Hamer?, now Dave is asked, Are you related to Roger Hamer?
“Roger and me reversed roles.” Dave said. “I’m very proud to be asked if I’m related to Roger.”
“I’ve always been proud of my dad, ” Roger said. “He’s my hero.”
Read more of Leo Adam Biga’s work at leoadambiga.com.
As screen veteran Yolonda Ross from Omaha enjoys today’s black renaissance, she gears for next big career move
As screen veteran Yolonda Ross from Omaha enjoys today’s black renaissance, she gears for next big career move
©by Leo Adam Biga
Appearing in the December 2018 issue of The Reader (www.thereader.com)
In her two decades as a working screen actress Omaha native Yolonda Ross has seen Black Cinema explode and women filmmakers assert themselves. She’s “making it happen” herself as a recurring character in Showtime’s The Chi after recurring parts in How to Murder Your Wife, The Get Down and Treme. She’s in HBO’s latest hit Random Acts of Flyness. She plays opposite Patricia Clarkson, James Caan and Toby Jones in the new indie feature Out of Blue.
Next spring, she breakouts behind the camera for her feature writing-directing debut, Scenes from Our Marriage. It shoots in her adopted hometown New York City with the same production team from the 2012 short Breaking Night she wrote-directed. She’s also executive producing and starring in Scenes. She and Clarke Peters are husband and wife theater artists dealing with professional challenges, jealousy, infidelity and race.
Omaha native Tim Christian’s Nightfox Entertainment is co-producing.
Ross left Omaha for NYC to pursue a fashion career. The multitalented artist (she also sings and paints) is glad for more opportunities today than ever.
“Yeah, this is a great time to be a black creative in our industry,” Ross said.
The emergence of Shonda Lynn Rhimes, Lena Waithe, Ryan Coogler, Jordan Peele, Terence Nance and other black TV-film players marks a wave if not sea change.
“Things have improved some,” Ross said. “I think it’s great there’s more people of color telling their own stories and not having pretty much the white race telling everybody else’s story. It makes for more specific voices for people to really see themselves on screen. It’s from a more authentic place because it’s coming from the people that live it.
“There’s still a lot of change that can happen though. There needs to be more people of color on the other side as far as green-lighting and distributing because you can produce things, but that still doesn’t necessarily mean they’re going to get picked up.”
Ross has also seen her industry change in terms of how talent and content get discovered.
“Now having the Internet very much planted in the middle of everything, because you can stream everything, definitely has broadened the industry and made it smaller at the same time. There’s a whole crop of people that are stars now for not really doing anything but talking to a camera telling you about something, which is not actually acting.
“They’re just very different things.”
She sees a content glut.
“I feel it’s all very saturated right now. There’s an overload of material out there. You have to really look for the quality stuff. As far as acting, I feel if you are at the top of what you do in your work, the cream of the crop still rises no matter the clutter. You just have a lot more to get around than before because everybody’s jumbled up into one big industry.”
Concurrent with these trends are new funding, production, distribution mechanisms to help women get their work seen and supported.
“It’s wonderful,” said Ross, who’s worked with many women directors (Cheryl Dunye, Reed Morano, Carol Morley).
Her upcoming feature is getting love from Level Forward, a female-run production company supporting women’s stories and women of color.
Her project is also nurtured by Film Independent and its Fiscal Sponsorship Program, which opens the door to nonprofit funding for independent filmmakers and media artists. The Friends of Mary Riepma Ross (no relation) Media Arts Center in Lincoln, Nebraska made a grant to her project through the program.
“My film is also going to be in Film Independent Fast Track,” Ross said. The film financing market held during the LA Film Festival helps producers-directors “fast track” their projects via intensive meetings with executives, financiers, agents, managers, distributors, granting organizations and production companies.
Meanwhile, Ross, who’s worked with Denzel Washington, John Sayles, David Mamet and Baz Luhrmann, continues keeping good company. Being part of Terence Nance’s Flyness is the latest example.
“I think Terence is one of those voices we need to see. We need his Afropunk voice. We need voices like his. We need Lena Waithe’s voice. We need my voice. We need these different kinds of voices with black skin to show that we are not all the same. We don’t all think the same, we don’t all process things the same.”
Ross has prepared to make her own feature for years.
“I’m really psyched about it. We have a lot of things to say. I’m so ready. All the directors I’ve worked with, all the Sundance labs I’ve done, all the different mediums I’ve worked in – it all helps with making my own first feature film. Also, I feel I understand how to deal with other actors to get emotion without over-talking, overdoing things – but just letting people do their work.
“My experience working with so many people allows me to get the best actors, and they’re willing to do favors, which is great. In terms of production, I understand how to get things in an efficient way because I’ve dealt with so many different types of situations. I’m able to look at things from the outside in and from the inside out, where sometimes directors kind of get stuck in the writing or the set. I also have a strong team around me to keep me on track so that I can lock down and streamline what I want to get in a moment, in a scene.”
Doing Breaking Night was “extremely important,” she said. “I needed to learn every step in making a film – from writing it to getting it out to festivals. Not only did I learn everybody’s job, I dealt with everything from insurance to licensing music. I needed to understand the business side. It’s helped me preparing to make this feature. I can talk to my producers about different elements and guide the project in a way that will be bes as far as time, money, creatively, everything.
“I like the producing aspects of filmmaking.”
Her screen journey began in earnest with her breakthrough in the 2001 HBO movie Stranger Inside.
“When you’re in it, sometimes you don’t look back on it because everything is about the next job. You’re always striving for more. Whatever you did in the past is great, but it’s also the past. But I’m very thankful to be here and to be able to have touched people in various ways. I’m thankful to continue to work on great projects and to be able to support myself by doing my passion, my art.”
She’s never forgotten her roots.
“I’m always down to do things in Omaha. I was just there (May) at the Dundee Theater for a panel on women in television. Supporting artists there is totally my thing. I feel seeing people who grew up in the same setting as you living their dream is a really powerful thing.”
Visit yolondaross.com.
Read more of Leo Adam Biga’s work at leoadambiga.com.
Putting it on the Line: Omaha’s Amber Ruffin making a name for herself in late-night TV
Omaha’s Amber Ruffin has so much to say and so much going on that I couldn’t fit it all into one story. That’s why in addition to the recent Omaha Star cover story I did on her, I wrote a Reader feature on this writer-actress best known for “Late Night With Seth Meyers.” While she came to national attention with her work on that show, she’s no overnight sensation. She put many years into an improvisational comedy career before network TV gave her a mass media platform for her talents. Her performing start goes clear back to Omaha Benson High School and local theaters.
But first, here are some thoughts about Amber and her being part of a long legacy of African-Americans with Nebraska ties making their marks in the entertainment industry.
Amber Ruffin: A consideration
Putting it on the Line
Omaha’s Amber Ruffin making a name for herself in late-night TV
©by Leo Adam Biga
Appearing in the December 2018 issue of The Reader (www.thereader.com)
Since joining NBC’s “Late Night with Seth Meyers” in 2014 as a writer-performer, Omaha native Amber Ruffin has made a name for herself. The gig made her the first black female writer in U.S. late-night network television.
Her strong Afro-centric takes on social issues are part of a disarming package. She can be sweet, silly, manic comedian or edgy commentator and provocateur.
In the recurring “Late Night” segments “Amber Says What” and “Amber’s One-Minute of Fury,” she skewers newsmakers and outs injustice. Her subversive bits play like funny truth sessions by a righteous sister reporting from the trenches of Being Black in America.
“That’s my goal,” Ruffin said. “You’ll never be wrong when you say police should stop murdering children in the street. That (racism) being a lot of my subject matter just gives me tremendous confidence because it’s never been more right and it’s never been more important.”
This fresh TV face and voice is steeped in a long, deep improv background that started here and took her to comedy capitals. Last month she came home to display her authentic, unvarnished self during an Inclusive Communities event at Slowdown. The audience got a taste of her formidable improv skills.
Replicating improv on TV is elusive.
“Oh, how I wish the feeling of improv translated to television. A lot of people have tried to get that feeling in a show, but it’s pretty difficult.”
Playing off a live audience is crucial.
“You’re constantly adjusting your tone, cadence because you have instant feedback and that allows you to give the best performance.”
Working in a corporate culture is still an adjustment.
“It is crazy for comedy to exist in an office. I’d never seen it before I was a part of it. I still find it shocking that it works.”
She’s learned to work within network TV boundaries.
“You can’t be crazy politically incorrect. When you’re on stage doing improv it only exists in that moment, so you can say whatever comes to mind, but on this show whatever you say exists forever. So you have to get it right so that 20 years from now when someone plays it you’ll still stand by it.”
Going out on a limb is a Ruffin trait.
“We are a little adventurous,” Ruffin said of her family. “My mom graduated high school at 16. Every summer she went to New York to find out what the world was about. My oldest sister lived in Panama. Another sister lived in Namibia. It’s just in our bones to see what’s out there.”
Her retired military parents are from the South. They met at Offutt Air Force Base. They later ran their own daycare business. Amber’s the youngest of their five children. Her sisters are also published writers.
Growing up, Ruffin used humor as escape.
“Humor WAS my way to survive. When kids make fun of you, it’s nice to give them something else to laugh at.”
That experience still informs her.
“My day-to-day humor stems from a need to make everyone feel welcome and comfortable and happy, which stems from getting made fun of so badly. It’s assumed people use comedy to put up walls, but I think in many cases the opposite is true. I can say exactly how I feel no matter how uncomfortable it makes you – if there’s a joke attached.”
Musically and dramatically inclined (she plays piano and sings), she developed an early passion for theater.
“I just love musicals.”
The movie The Wiz made a big impression for more than the music.
“It was rare to see a show with an all-black cast that has nothing to do with being black,” she said. “Often times, black people have to talk about their experience being black to be valued. But these people didn’t. It was just a story of joy. The movie, the live musical, every performance of it leaves so much room for you to express yourself. It reminds us the world wants us at our weirdest. When you pretend to fit in, you fade away.”
She contributed to the book of a new stage version of The Wiz that premiered in June at The Muny amphitheater in St. Louis. She hopes a national tour comes here on what could be a Broadway-bound path.
“What distinguishes our version is its timelessness. I wanted it to never have to be rewritten again.”
The stage bug bit while playing Princess Winnifred in an Omaha Benson High production of Once Upon a Mattress. The Benson grad honed her craft via Stages of Omaha at the Millennium Theatre. She did improv at the Shelterbelt and Blue Barn.
Encouraged to try it in Chi-Town, she caught on with Boom Chicago – working with Jordan Peele, Matt Jones and Jessica Lowe – and then Second City. In between, she did a stint with Boom’s company in Amsterdam, the Netherlands.
Within days of an unsuccessful “SNL” audition, she got hired by “SNL” and Boom alum Seth Meyers.
“I think it’s been a natural progression because I have always been writing my own black point of view. I haven’t found it (TV) to be too crazy because at Boom Chicago we would do short form, where the audience suggests the set-up and then you have to deliver punch lines. You have three or four seconds to come up with something. But on “Late Night” I have all day to come up with a punch line. It’s much more relaxed.”
She usually has a week to hone her “Late Night” routines.
“You write it up and you rewrite it a bunch and you show it to the audience and you get one last rewrite and then it has to go in the show.”
She believes she provides a good change-up.
“Because Seth is so grounded in his comedy there is room for an insane person like me.”
She doesn’t make a big deal about having been the first black female writer in the late-night lane.
“I am not sure if any of that matters. What matters is knowing that we exist and being able to see us. What matters is that everyone knows there’s room for them – because there is.”
She says she was long ready for the opportunity. “I could have done this job years ago, for sure.” But happening when it did kept her real. “Now that I’m in this environment, I’m still me. If I had got this job years ago, I would have bent to what the culture was, and it’s my not having done that has made my career what it is.”
Her go-to topic, racism. is informed by her travels.
“The racism in Omaha is different than anywhere else. We don’t have a huge history of lynchings, scary slavery and Confederate monuments, and so we feel we are above racism, which is what puts us so far beneath it. No one’s really angry because you’re a black woman. People don’t think of you as much as a threat. They just think you are kind of gross.
“Omaha’s pretty bad. It’s way less in Chicago. In Amsterdam, way less, but still there – just a different kind. In L.A., there’s less palpable racism. It’s all institutionalized instead of in your face. In New York, people say something the tiniest bit racist and everyone knows it and sees it. It has gone from me being gross to racism itself being the gross thing, which is a relief.
“Now racism is fixed and over, so we win. Just kidding.”
Coming of age here, she craved diversity.
“I remember being in Omaha and just wanting there to be more me and to have a place where you felt like you could belong, and there wasn’t. I still don’t have a lot of me. I just see how critically important it is, especially for young kids.”
Her diversity advocacy made her an apt choice as special guest for the Inclusive Communities FriendsGiving fundraiser.
Meanwhile, she has an NBC development deal for a show, “Village Gazette,” on which she has co-writing and executive producer credits. It’s set in fictional Benson, Nebraska. The name is inspired by her real-life alma mater, Benson High, and the neighborhood that school is in.
She’s also writing feature film scripts. And she can be seen on Comedy Central’s “The Detroiters” and “Drunk History.”
“I shouldn’t be doing this many things, but I figure you only have so much time. I want to give it a shot.”
Follow Amber on Facebook and Twitter.
Read more of Leo Adam Biga’s work at leoadambiga.com.
Cathy Hughes: Forging a Media Empire by Disrupting the Status Quo
Cathy Hughes has forged media empire by disrupting the status quo
photo by Bill Sitzmann
story by Leo Adam Biga and Daisy Hutzell-Rodman
Originally published in B2B Omaha Magazine (omahamagazine.com/articles/cathy–hughes)
Disruptors don’t ask permission. They refuse accepting no for an answer. Neither do they cow to tradition for tradition’s sake, nor let barriers deny realizing their goal.
Make no mistake, Omaha native media mogul Cathy Hughes built the first leg of her Urban One empire by being a disruptor. Doing it in the nation’s capital gave her a national platform. After running radio station WHUR at Howard University, where her innovative programming made waves, she made her move in ownership at WOL, which became the flagship for her Radio One broadcast network.
She developed a reputation as a sharp entrepreneur and tough negotiator. Her intuitive grasp of what the public wanted and her ability to provide it as both a programmer and an on-air host built a brand and a following. In 1999 she became the first African-American woman to chair a publicly traded company. This media magnate added a television network to her holdings when her son Alfred Liggins III launched TV One. Though Alfred now runs things on a day by day basis for a diverse portfolio of companies, including online and gaming divisions, she’s still very much involved and remains Urban One’s public face.
Hughes recently added movie producer to her credits. She is second only to Oprah when it comes to individual black women wealth. None of it would have been possible, she says, without what she learned in her hometown of Omaha, where Alfred also grew up.
Mentors included civil rights champion priest John Markoe, Omaha Star publisher Mildred Brown and advocate journalist Charles B. Washington. Her activist parents resisted racial inequality as members of the social action group the De Porres Club, Her mother Helen Jones Woods was a professional musician turned licensed practical nurse and social worker. Her father William Woods was an accountant. Her maternal grandfather, Lawrence C. Jones, was founder of Piney Woods Country Life School in Mississippi.
“My mother, father and grandfather were very committed to trying to improve the plight of our people, and I inherited that,” says Hughes.
Another influence informing her own independent spirit was a group of prominent African-Americans who bought local radio station KOWH.
“Their example inspired me to become a broadcast owner of what ultimately became the largest black media company in the world.”
Her sense of self-determination and aspiration as a single mother in North Omaha, where she worked at both the Star and KOWH and participated in demonstrations, carried her far.
Instead of making her single mother status a negative or barrier, she embraced it and used it as motivation to achieve. Her son was there for her entire struggle and ascent. She sometimes brought him to classes and to work.
National journalist Tony Brown was so impressed upon meeting the vivacious Hughes when he appeared in Omaha that he invited her to be a lecturer at Howard despite the fact she was not a college graduate herself.
“He saw that I was so hungry for the opportunity and that this was a passion for me.”
Brown was one of a string of illustrious mentors who saw her potential. Others included Susan Thompson Buffett, Washington Post publisher Katharine Graham and Johnson Publishing founded John H. Johnson.
Hughes parlayed the Howard opportunity to become D.C.’s first female general manager of a radio station when asked to take the reins at WHUR in 1973. She grew ad revenues and helped WHUR go national after creating the urban format “Quiet Storm,” which hundreds of stations across the country adopted.
Realizing she still had a lot to learn, Hughes studied psychographic programming at Harvard and took a programming seminar at the University of Chicago.
In 1980, she and then-husband Dewey Hughes purchased struggling WOL. She reversed the station’s fortunes by transforming it from R&B to a 24-hour-a-day news-talk format she dubbed “Information is Power.” She hosted an on-air morning show for 11 years, thus becoming the voice and face of black urban radio.
Hughes took cues from her Omaha mentors in remaining connected to her community while finding commercial success.
Years before in Omaha, she said Mildred Brown and Charles Washington “understood that information is power.” She learned from them and the folks who ran KOWH that black media isn’t just about a business, it’s about a community service.” That realization has informed everything she’s done with Urban One.
“Our commitment to our community is what has built brand loyalty. Investors and bankers respect that. They’re interested in numbers and they understand the numbers will be there because the community responds positively to that loyalty.”
Building a radio network was her vision and ambition.
“I always wanted more than one station,” she says.
She sees opportunity where others don’t.
“We have been turnaround experts. That’s what our whole corporate strategy has been. We take under-performing stations and turn them around. Under-performing stations have practically called our name. That’s how we’ve approached broadcasting.
“We built Radio One with numerous formats, including some mainstream white formats.”
Hughes put together most of the funds for her initial purchase of WOL.
“I had $100,000 of my own personal money. That’s why when Dewey and I split there wasn’t a big hassle because it was his opportunity and my money.
“I raised an additional $100,000 from 10 investors – each putting in $10,000 a piece, and then I borrowed the rest. I needed a million dollars from a senior lender. I was turned down by 32 different banks. The 33rd presentation was to a Puerto Rican woman banker – and she said yes. She was the one that made the difference. I put together another $600,000 from black venture capitalists.”
Part of persevering and being resilient meant having to prove to skeptics that she could go it alone.
“The most perilous time in the history of my company was when I decided to divorce my husband. He was not making a contribution to the business. He was a drain. But that’s not how it was seen by my advertisers, by my lenders, by my creditors, by my listeners. They saw it from the perspective that I wouldn’t be able to survive with Dewey no longer in the picture.”
Survive and thrive she did by leaning into the example set by Omaha Star publisher Mildred Brown, whose “dogged determination” she admired.
“When somebody told Mildred no, she saw it as an opportunity to change their mind, she never saw it as a rejection. She didn’t take no seriously. No to her meant Oh, they must not have enough information to come to the right conclusion.”
Like that earlier media matriarch, the charismatic Hughes brings “activism with marketing and salesmanship” to her personal art of persuasion.
Early in her Radio One ownership, when loans were hard to come by, she openly expressed doubts. She credits a male investor-advisor with getting her to speak into action her successful acquisition of capital, stations, listeners and advertisers.
“He told me to change my terminology, which changed my thinking, because I was the first person to hear it.
And guess what, one day it was no longer a lie, it became my truth.”
Even after her multi-billion dollar company went public, the ever-driven Hughes was anything but complacent.
“I don’t see it as success yet, I still see it as a work in progress.”
Being a woman in a male-centric industry hasn’t fazed her, she said, because “I never put woman first. I am black first and a woman second. Plus, I had my eyes on a prize. I didn’t see it as proving something to the old boys network. I was not intimidated by the fact I was the only female. I really thought because I was the first woman general manager there would be a whole proliferation of black women owning and managing radio stations. But women have made more progress in sports than they have in media.”
Her business rise took some aback as it didn’t follow expectations. For instance, when she found herself a single mother again after putting together the WOL deal, she and her son Alfred slept at the station until things improved. A black single mom with a penchant for telling it like it is disrupted the prototypical corporate culture.
“It’s not a role white women have enjoyed for too long and so it’s definitely still brand new for African-American women, especially for someone outspoken like me.”
Along the way, she says, she’s had to educate some folks that it was she who actually built Radio One and made it a success, not her ex-husband or her business partner son. Perhaps a sign of progress is that she now gets credit for forming TV One and taking the parent company public when it was her son Alfred’s doing.
She’s grateful that her son, a Wharton School of Business graduate, came to not only embrace her media vision and passion but to expand it to across platforms.
Things came full circle for the pair last May when Hughes was honored in Omaha for her achievements and Liggins joined others in singing her praises.
“I could always recognize and appreciate her drive, tenacity and lessons,” he says. “First and foremost, I respect her as a human being and as my mother. In terms of our business partnership, we don’t let any of the mother-son-family potential squabbles disintegrate that partnership. I guess we’ve always been a team since the day I was born.”
Hughes now has a boulevard named after her in North Omaha and she is a Face on the Barroom Floor at the Omaha Press Club.
“It doesn’t get any better than that,” she says.
Visit https://urban1.com.
Read more of Leo Adam Biga’s work at leoadambiga.com.
Cathy Hughes proves you can come home again
Cathy Hughes proves you can come home again
©by Leo Adam Biga
Appearing in the July 2018 issue of New Horizons
Nebraskans take pride in high achieving native sons and daughters, Some doers don’t live to see their accomplishments burnished in halls of history or celebrated by admirers. This past spring, however, Cathy Hughes, 71, personally accepted recognition in the place where her twin passions for communication and activism began, North Omaha.
The mogul’s media holdings include the Radio One and TV One networks.
During a May 16-19 homecoming filled with warm appreciation and sweet nostalgia, Urban One chair Hughes reunited with life-shaping persons and haunts. An entourage of friends and family accompanied Hughes, who lives in the Washington D.C. area where her billion dollar business empire’s based. Her son and business partner Alfred Liggins Jr., who was born in Omaha, basked in the heartfelt welcome.
Being back always stirs deep feelings.
“Every time I come I feel renewed,” Hughes said. “I feel the love, the kindred spirit I shared with classmates, friends, neighbors. I always leave feeling recharged.”
With part of Paxton Boulevard renamed after her, a day in her honor officially proclaimed in her hometown and the Omaha Press Club making her a Face on the Barroom Floor, this visit was extra special.
“It was so emotionally charged for me. It’s like hometown approval.”
During the street dedication ceremony at Fontenelle Park, surrounded by a who’s-who of North O, Hughes said, “I cannot put into words how important this is to me. This is the memory I will take to my grave. This is the day that will stand out. When you come home to your own and they say to you job well done, there’s nothing better than that.”
Photo Courtesy of Cathy Hughes
Cathy Hughes’ mother, Helen Jones Woods with the International Sweethearts of Rhythm, circa 1940
Welcoming home an icon
Good-natured ribbing flowed at the park and at the Press Club, where she was roasted.
The irony of the Press Club honor is that when Hughes was young blacks were unwelcome there except as waiters, bartenders and kitchen help. The idea of a street honoring a person of color then was unthinkable.
“This community has progressed,” Hughes told an overflow Empowerment Network audience at the downtown Hilton. “An empowerment conference with this many people never could have taken place in my childhood in Omaha. This is impressive.”
Empowerment Network founder-president Willie Barney introduced her by saying, “She is a pioneer. She is one of the best entrepreneurs in the world. She is a legend.”
Nebraska Heisman Trophy-winner Johnny Rodgers helped organize the weekend tribute for the legend.
“I think Cathy Hughes is the baddest girl on the planet,” Rodgers said. “She’s historical coming from Omaha all the way up to be this giant radio and TV mega producer and second richest black lady in the country. It’s just fantastic she’s a product of this black community. I want to make sure all the kids in our community realize they can be what Cathy’s done. Anything’s possible.
“I want hers to be a household name.”
Some felt the hometown honors long overdue. Everyone agreed they were well-deserved.
A promising start
People who grew up with her weren’t surprised when she left Omaha in 1972 as a single mother and realized her childhood dream of finding success in radio.
She had it all growing up – sharp intellect, good looks, gift for gab, disarming charm, burning ambition and aspirational parents. Her precocious ways made her popular and attracted suitors.
“She’s very personable,” lifelong friend Theresa Glass said. “She’s been a gifted communicator all the time. My grandmother Ora Glass was her godmother and she always believed Cathy was destined for great things.”
Radio veteran Edward L. “Buddy” King said, “She had this thing about her. Everybody projected she would be doing something real good. She knew how to carry herself. Cathy’s a beautiful woman. She’s smart, too.”
Glass recalled, “Cathy was always an excellent student. She’s always used her intellect in various pursuits. She was always out in the working world. Cathy used all the education and skills she learned and then she built on those things. So when she went to D.C, she was prepared to work hard and to do something out of the ordinary for women and for African Americans to do.”
Members of the De Porres Club in 1948
Cathy’s parents were pioneers themselves.
Her mother Helen Jones Woods, 94, played trombone in the all-girl, mixed-race swing band the International Sweethearts of Rhythm. Helen’s adoptive father, Laurence C. Jones. founded the Piney Woods Country Life School in Mississippi, which Helen attended. Cathy and her family lived in Jim Crow Mississippi for two years. She’s a major supporter of the school today.
Cathy’s late father, William A. Woods, was the first black accounting graduate at Creighton University. He and Cathy’s mother were active in the Omaha civil rights group the De Porres Club, whose staunchest supporter was Omaha Star publisher Mildred Brown.
“Very young, I marched,” recalled Cathy Hughes, who’s the oldest of four siblings. “I was maybe 6-years old when we picketed the street car (company) trying to get black drivers. I remember vividly being slapped on the back of my head by my mother to ‘hold the sign up straight.’ I remember demonstrating but most importantly I heard truth being spoken.”
“Cathy’s parents were community-oriented people,” King said. “They cared about their community. They were well-to-do in their circles. Cathy grew up in that but she never lost her street savvy.”
While attending private schools (she integrated Duschene Academy), she said, “The nuns would send notes home to my mother saying I had delusions of grandeur, I talked all the time, and I was very opinionated. I bragged I would be the first black woman to have a nationally syndicated program.
“I was good and grown before I found out that had already been accomplished.”
Her penchant for speaking her mind stood her apart.
“When I was growing up black folks didn’t verbalize their feelings and particularly children didn’t.”
Mildred Brown gave her father an office at the Star. Cathy did his books and sold classified ads for the paper. Her father also waited tables at the Omaha Club and on the Union Pacific passenger rail service between Omaha and Idaho. She sometimes rode the train with her father on those Omaha to Pocatello runs.
She found mentors in black media professionals Brown and Star reporter-columnist, Charlie Washington. The community-based advocacy practiced by the paper and by radio station KOWH, where she later worked, became her trademark.
“We had a militancy existing in Omaha and when you’re a child growing up in that you just assume you’re supposed to try to make life better for your people because that’s what was engrained in us. We didn’t have to wait to February for black history. We were told of great black accomplishments on a regular basis at church, in school, in social gatherings. Black folks in Omaha have a nationalist pride.
“I was imbued with community service and activism. I don’t know any different. My mother on Sunday would go to the orphanage and bring back children home for dinner. We were living in the Logan Fontenelle projects and one chicken was already serving six and she would bring two or three other kids and so that meant we got a piece of a wing because Daddy always got the breast.”
During her May visit she recalled the tight-knit “village” of North Omaha where “everybody knew everybody.”
In the spirit of “always doing something to improve your community and family,” she participated in NAACP Youth Council demonstrations to integrate the Peony Park swimming pool.
“Because we were disciplined and strategic, there was a calm and deliberate delivery of demands on our part. I don’t know if it was youth naivete or pure unadulterated optimism, but we didn’t think we would fail.”
Peony Park gave into the pressure.
Opposing injustice, she said, “instilled in me a certain level of fearlessness, purpose and accomplishment I carried with me for the rest of my life.”
“It taught me the lesson that there’s power in unity.”
Her passion once nearly sparked an international incident on a University of Nebraska at Omaha Black Studies tour to Africa.
“The first day we arrived in Addis Ababa, Eithiopia, the students at Haile Selassie University #1 were staging demonstrations that ultimately led to the dethroning of emperor Haile Selassie. Well, we almost got put out of the country because when I heard there was a demonstration I left the hotel and ran over to join the picket line with the Eithiopian students. My traveling companions were like, ‘No, you cant do that in a foreign country, they’re going to deport us.’ Hey, I never saw a demonstration I didn’t feel like i should be a part of.”
Charlie Washington
The influence of her mentors went wherever she went.
“Mildred Brown unapologetically published Charlie Washington’s rants, exposes, accusations, evidence. She didn’t censor or edit him. If Charlie felt the mayor wasn’t doing a good job, that’s what you read in the Omaha Star. It took the mute button off of the voice of the black community. It promoted progress. It also provided information and jobs. It’s always been a vehicle for advocacy, inspiration and motivation.
“That probably was the greatest lesson I could have witnessed because one of the reasons some folks don’t speak out in the African-American community is they’re afraid of being financially penalized or losing their job, so they just remain silent. Mildred and Charlie did not remain silent and she was still financially successful.”
Both figures became extended family to her.
“Charlie Washington became like my godfather. He was the rabble rouser of my youth. He had the power of the pen. Charlie and the Omaha Star actually showed me the true power of the communications industry. I saw with Charlie you can tell the truth about the needs and the desires of your community without being penalized” even though he wrote “probably some of the most militant articles in the United States.”
“That’s the environment I grew up in. So the combination of Charlie always writing the truth and Mildred being able to keep a newspaper in Omaha solvent were both sides of my personality – the commitment side and the entrepreneurial side.”
Today, Hughes inspires young black communicators with her own journey of perseverance and imagination in pushing past barriers and redefining expectations.
No turning back
As an aspiring media professional. Hughes most admired Mildred Brown’s “dogged determination.”
“When somebody told Mildred no, they weren’t going to take an ad, she saw it as an opportunity to change their mind, she never saw it as a rejection. She didn’t take no seriously. No to her meant. Oh, they must not have enough information to come to the right conclusion because no is not the right conclusion.
“Nothing stopped Mildred.”
Nothing stopped Hughes either.
“When I was 17 I became a parent. I realized I was on the brink of becoming a black statistic. My son Alfred was the motivation for me to think past myself. It was the defining moment in my life direction because for the first time I had a priority I could not fail. I was like, We’ll be okay, I’m not going to disappoint you, don’t worry about it. It was Alfred who actually kept me going.”
Her first ever radio job was at Omaha’s then black format station, KOWH.
“KOWH fed into my fasciation with having a voice. I think it is truly a blessing to have your voice amplified. I wasn’t even thinking about being an entrepreneur then. I was thinking about being able to express. I wasn’t at an age yet where had come into who I was destined to be.”
She left for D.C. to lecture at Howard University at the invite of noted broadcaster Tony Brown, whom she met in Omaha. It’s then-fledgling commercial radio station, WHUR, made her the city’s first woman general manager.
Leaving home took guts. Staying in D.C. with no family or friends, sleeping on the floor of the radio station and resisting her mother’s long-distance pleas to come back or get a secure government job, showed her resolve.
“Omaha provided me a safe haven. Once in D.C., I had to rely on and call forth everything I had learned in Omaha just to survive and move forward. If I had not left, I probably would not have become a successful entrepreneur because I had a certain comfort level in Omaha. I was the apple of several individuals’ eyes. They saw potential in me, but I think their love and support would not have pushed me forward the way I had to push myself once I moved into a foreign land.”
She feels Nebraska’s extreme weather toughened her.
“It builds a certain strength in you that you may or may not find in other cities.”
If sweltering heat, high winds and subzero cold couldn’t deter her, neither could man-man challenges.
“You learn that determination that you can’t let anything turn you around. When I went to D.C. and realized there weren’t people of color doing what I wanted to do, I just kept my eye on the prize. I refused to let anyone turn me around. When you learn to persevere in all types of elements, then business is really a lot easier for you.”
Mildred Brown
Brown was her example of activist entrepreneur.
“The Star was to Omaha what Jet and Ebony were to the black community nationwide. It’s why I have this media conglomerate. When you’re 10 years old and you’re looking up to this bigger-than-life woman, she was a media mogul in my mind. She had a good looking man and wardrobe and all the trappings.”
Just as Hughes would later help causes in D.C., Brown, she said, “was kind of a one-woman social agency before social agencies became in vogue.”
“She helped a lot of people. My father graduated from college and didn’t have a place to open an office and she opened her lobby for him. He was just one of many. Charlie Washington had a very troubled background and yet because of her he rose to being respected as one of the great journalists of his time in Omaha. Dignitaries would come and sit on Charlie’s stoop and talk to him about what was going on. He was considered iconic because of Mildred Brown.
“She put students through school and raised hell to keep them there. When my mother was short my Duschene tuition, Mildred told them, ‘You’re going to get your money, but don’t be threatening to put her out.’ She literally walked the walk as well as talked the talk. She didn’t tell folks what they needed to do, she helped them do it. She continued to inspire and advise and mold me.”
Full circle
Howard’s School of Communications is named after Hughes, who never graduated college. Decades after first lecturing there, she’s a lecturer there again today.
“They say I am their most successful graduate who never matriculated. I wasn’t prepared to be the first woman general manager of a radio station in the nation’s capital. That’s why Howard sent me to Harvard to take a six-week course in broadcast management and to the University of Chicago to learn psychographic programming. I went to various seminars and training sessions. Howard literally groomed me. They were proud of the fact I was the first woman in the position they had placed me in “
Hughes readily admits she hasn’t done it by herself.
“I have been blessed by the individuals placed in my life. They sharpened me, prepared me, educated me, schooled me, nurtured me, mentored me. I have been blessed so many times to be in the right place at the right time and with the right people.”
She grew ad revenues and listeners at WHUR. A program she created, “The Quiet Storm,” popularized the urban format nationally. With ex-husband Dewey Hughes she worked wonders at WOL in D.C. After their split, she built Radio One.
Upon arriving in D.C., Hughes found an unlikely ally in Washington Post publisher Katharine Graham. She met Graham through Susan Thompson Buffett, the wife of investor Warren Bufffett, and part owner of the paper.
“Susie was staying at the Grahams’ house. At that time Susie was a singer with professional entertainment aspirations and I was her manager. Katharine Graham took an interest in me and because she had this interest in me other people, including the folks at Howard University, embraced me.”
Networking
Hughes parlayed connections to advance herself.
“Part of my innate abilities since childhood has been to recognize an opportunity and take full advantage of it.”
Her first allegiance was to listeners though. Thus, she lambasted Graham’s Post for unfair portrayals of blacks, even encouraging listeners to burn copies of the paper.
Hughes has succeeded in a male-dominated industry.
“I never thought about being a woman in a male field. First of all. I was black. I’ve never put woman first. I was black first and a woman second. I had a goal I wanted to achieve, an objective that had to be accomplished. I didn’t see it as proving something to the old boys network. I was not intimidated by being the only female.
“I was naive. I really thought there would be a whole proliferation of black women owning and managing radio stations. Women have made more progress in professional basketball – they own and coach teams – than they have in the broadcasting industry.”
Men have played a vital role in her business success.
The two black partners in Syndicated Communications, Herbert Wilkins and Terry Jones, loaned her her first million dollars to build Radio One. Wilkins has passed but Jones and his wife Marcella remain close friends.
When things were tough early on, it was Jones who instructed a downcast Hughes to change her mindset.
“He said to me when people ask you how are you doing they can’t be hearing you complaining or saying I don’t know. You’ve got to say it was a great day because the first person that hears the lie is you. Tell yourself your business is doing good. Tell yourself you’re going to make it. Everyone’s going to start agreeing with you. He told me to change my terminology, which changed my thinking, and guess what, one day it was no longer a lie, it became my truth,” she shared in Omaha.
Friends and family true
Theresa Glass said success has not changed Hughes, who looks keeping it real.
“She’s the kind of friend who’s always your friend and we always can start off where we last left off. I never have to do a whole bunch of catch up with her. We immediately go into friend mode and are able to talk to one another. A lot of times you’ve been away from somebody for a long time or your lives have really shifted and they’re not even close to being the same, and you feel awkward, and that’s not happened for us.”
Hughes acknowledges her success is not hers alone. “I didn’t do it on my own. Right time, right place, right people.” She leans on staff she calls “family.” She believes in the power of prayer she practices daily. She credits her son’s immeasurable contributions.
“Radio One was me. TV One was totally Alfred. He decided he wanted his own path. Our expansion, our going public, all of that, was in fact Alfred. He does the heavy lifting and I get to take all the bows.”
Not every mother-son could make it work.
“Alfred and I had to go to counseling, alright, because one of us was going to die during those early years. It was not happy times – and it was basically my refusal (to relinquish control),” she said at the Hilton.
Alfred Liggins acknowledges their business partnership ultimately worked.
“It was my mother’s willingness to want to see me succeed as a human being and as a business person and unselfish ability to share her journey with me. When it came time to let me fly the plane, she was more than willing to do that.”
He recognizes how special her story is.
“I could always recognize and appreciate her drive, tenacity and lessons. We didn’t let any of the mother-son-family potential squabbles disintegrate that partnership, so I guess we’ve always been a team since the day I was born.”
Challenges and opportunities
“Buddy” King. who’s had his own success in satellite radio, is happy to share a KOWH tie with Hughes.
“I’ve always admired Cathy. We KOWH alums are all proud of her success because her success shines light on what we did in Omaha.”
King further admires Radio One continuing to thrive in an increasingly unstable broadcast environment.
“iHeart media and Cumulus, two of the largest broadcast owners in the country, are both in bankruptcy, but Cathy is still chugging along. Her son has done an excellent job since making it a publicly-traded company. As the stock market fluctuates, they’ve able to survive.”
Diversification into online services and, more recently, the gaming industry, has kept Urban One fluid.
The changing landscape extends to Me Too movement solidarity around survivors of sexual harassment in the entertainment field.
“Was I subjected to it? Yes, absolutely,” Hughes said, “and I’m so glad women are stepping forward. Now we have a voice. The reality is we need more than a voice, we need to have action. Just talking about it doesn’t change it. I mean, how long have black folks talked about disparity and a whole host of things.
“It’s great that women are speaking out but we have to put pressure on individuals and on systems. Wherever we can find an opening. we must apply pressure to change it. Let’s start with education.”
She despairs over what she perceives as the dismantling of public education and how it may further erode stagnant income of blacks and the lack of inherited wealth among black families. She shared how “disturbed” she was by how Omaha’s North 24th Street has declined from the Street of Dreams she once knew.
Mrs. Marcella Jones, Alfred Liggins, III and his mother Cathy Hughes
Black media
Voices like hers can often only be found in black media.
“Black radio is still the voice of the community. Next to the black church, black-owned media is the most important institution in our community,” she said.
She embraces technology opening avenues and fostering change, but not at the expense of truth.
“I pray that truth prevails in all of these advancements we’re making. I see a world of opportunity opening, particularly for young people. I’m so impressed with this young generation behind the millennials. These kids are awesome because they’re not interested in just celebrity status. They’re interested in real change and I think the technology will be a definite part of that and I think with it comes a different level of responsibility for media than we’ve had in the past.
“Information is power. Mildred Brown understood that and it wasn’t just about a business for her – it was about a community service.”
Hughes credits an unlikely source with unifying African-Americans today.
“President Trump has single-handedly reignited activism, particularly in the black community. That did not occur in the Clinton administration, nor the Obama administration. But Trump has got people riled up, which is good. He has made people so mad that people are willing to do things, voice their opinion, and that’s why black radio is so important. You are able to say and hear things that you couldn’t get anywhere else.”
The Omaha Star is in its eighth decade. Hughes maintains its survival is “absolutely critical – because again it’s the voice of the people,” adding, “It’s our story from our perspective.” She still reads every issue. “It’s how I know what’s going on. The first thing I do is read Ernie Chambers’ editorial comments.”
Hughes is adamant blacks must retain control over their own message.
“You cannot ever depend on a culture that enslaved you to accurately portray you. That just cannot happen. I think too often African Americans have looked to mainstream media to tell our story. Well, all stories go through a filter process based on the news deliverer’s experience and perception and so often our representation has not been accurate.
“The reality is we have to be responsible for the dissemination of our own information because that’s the only time we can be reasonably assured it’s going to be from the right perspective, that it’s going to be from the right experience, and for the right reasons.”
Yet, she feels blacks do not support black media or other black business segments as much as they should.
A challenge she addressed in Omaha is black media not getting full value from advertisers.
“My son and I are not going for that. We want full value for our black audience and we insist on that with advertisers. I learned that from Mildred Brown. She did not allow y’alll to be discounted because it was a black weekly newspaper. She wanted the black readership of the Omaha Star to have the same value as a white readership to the Omaha World-Herald.
“I learned at the Omaha Star you don’t take a discount for being black.”
Still learning
Six decades into her media career and Hughes said, “I’m still learning. I’m not totally prepared for some of the responsibilities and charges I’m being blessed with now. Like I’m just learning how to produce a movie (her debut project, Media, premiered on TV One in 2017). I want to learn how to direct a movie. I want to learn how to do a series. Thank God we went into cable, which has given me an opportunity to learn the visual side.”
She’s searching for a new project to produce or direct.
“I’m reading everything I can get my hands on. I am just so thankful to the individuals in my life who have loved and nurtured me that I keep acquiring new skill sets at this age. I’m still growing and learning. which is kind of my hobby.”
Hughes is often approached about a documentary or book on her life. If there’s to be a book, she said, “I don’t want someone else interpreting who I am. I don’t want someone else telling my story from their perspective. I want to tell my own story.”
Lasting impact and legacy
Her staff is digitally archiving her career. There’s a lot to capture, including her Omaha story.
“I thank Omaha. Nothing’s better than making your mark in your hometown.”
Getting all those accolades back here is not her style.
“In Omaha, we just don’t get carried away with a whole bunch of fanfare and hero-worshiping. Again, it’s how I grew up. That’s our way of life in Omaha and I thank God for that because it’s made a big difference. It’s a whole different mentality and way of life quite frankly.”
Omaha’s impact on her is incalculable.
“It touched me probably a lot more deeply and seriously than I realized for many decades. When you’re trying to build your business you don’t have a lot of time to reflect on how did I get here and the people who influenced me. I went through a couple decades working on my career and my personal and professional growth and development before I realized the impact the Omaha Star had had on me and what a positive influence Omaha has been on me.”
“Buddy” King said he always knew if from afar.
“Even when she was a young single parent, Cathy was a fighter. It all to me comes back to her Omaha roots.”
Though Alfred Liggins and his mom have been back several times, with this 2018 visit, he said, “you feel like you finally made it and made good and you’re making you’re community proud.”
“It’s about meaning and legacy. That’s why this is hugely different. It really is the culmination of a journey I’ve shared with my mother trying to elevate ourselves and in the process elevating the community from which we came. I’m proud to have been part of what my mother embarked on and I feel like I am being recognized alongside her.
“And it is a deserving honor for her. She’s got guts, grit and she still has a ton of energy. She always gives me lots of praise and lots of love – until I do something she doesn’t like. But it has kept me on the up-and-up and to have my nose to the grindstone.”
At the close of her Empowerment Network talk, Hughes articulated why coming back to acclaim meant so much.
“I think Omaha teaches you to best your best and practices tough love. If you have the nerve to leave here and go someplace else, you better hope you do good because if you come home, you don’t want to hear (about returning a failure). But it’s really love telling you, You should have done better, you should have been more persistent.
“That whole village concept sometimes is not comfortable but it’s so productive because it pushes you to best your best. It teaches you that when you come home one day … they may hang a sign and name a boulevard in your honor.”
As she told a reporter earlier, “My picture’s on the floor of the Press Club, okay It don’t get no better than that.”
Visit https://urban1.com.
Read more of Leo Adam Biga’s work at leoadambiga.com.
Life Itself IX: Media and related articles from the analog past to today’s digital era
Ariel Roblin
Mike Kelly
Doug Wesselmann, aka Otis Twelve
Coming home is sweet for media giant Cathy Hughes
Coming home is sweet for media giant Cathy Hughes
©by Leo Adam Biga
Originally published in the June 2018 issue of The Reader (www.thereader.com)
Sweet nostalgia flowed when Omaha native media titan Cathy Hughes got feted in her hometown May 17-19. It marked the first time many Nebraskans heard of Hughes, even though this head of national networks cites her Midwest upbringing for the resilience behind her barrier-breaking entrepreneurial success.
After the hoopla around her coming back, she owns the state’s undivided attention.
The Omaha African-American community that produced Hughes has long followed her achievements. Her multimedia Urban One Inc., whose brands include Radio One and TV One, are black-centric platforms. Despite a media footprint rivaling Oprah and a personal net worth of half a billion dollars, her black market niche didn’t register with the general public. Until last month. Heisman Trophy-winner Johnny Rodgers marshaled coverage for street renaming, Empowerment Network and Omaha Press Club recognitions.
Surrounded by friends, family and local black leaders, Hughes, the 71-year-old Urban One chair, and her son and business partner, CEO Alfred Liggins Jr., 53, basked in the glow of defining legacies. Liggins said admiringly of her: “She’s got guts, grit and she still has a ton of energy. She’s well-deserving of these honors.”
She recently produced her first movie, Media, for TV One.
Rodgers is among history-makers whose paths she’s intersected. She appreciates him making her mogul ascent more widely known so as to inspire others.
“Johnny told me, ‘I’m doing this for the black kids that need to know you exist – that you grew up in the projects in Omaha (to become the first black woman chair of a publicly traded company).’ Johnny added, ‘I’m also doing it for the white folks who don’t realize that in a whole different arena and way you’re our Warren Buffett.’ That kind of caused me to choke up.”
She came up in Logan-Fontenelle public housing when northeast Omaha truly was “a village.” Her accountant father and International Sweethearts of Rhythm musician mother were civil rights warriors (the De Porres Club). The former Cathy Woods attended Catholic schools. She demonstrated for equal rights. The bright Central High student was “the apple of many influential eyes.” When she became a teen single mom, she didn’t let that status or reality define her, but drive her.
Neither did she keep her radio fame ambitions to herself.
“Ever since I’ve been born, I’ve been running my mouth. I remember once almost getting suspended because I challenged a nun. She said, ‘You have a big mouth,’ and I said, ‘One day I’m going to make a lot of money off of my big mouth.’ I knew as a child I was a communicator. As I grew in my knowledge and awareness of my African history and legacy, I realized I was from the giro tradition of maintaining folklore and history in story form. I just innately had that ability.”
In 1972 she left for Washington D.C. to lecture at Howard University at the invite of noted broadcaster Tony Brown, whom she met in Omaha. It’s then-fledgling commercial radio station, WHUR, made her the city’s first woman general manager. She grew ad revenues and listeners. A program she created, “Quiet Storm,” popularized the urban format nationally. With ex-husband Dewey Hughes she worked wonders at WOL in D.C. After their split, she built Radio One.
“Omaha provided a safe haven, but once in Washington D.C. I had to rely on and call forth everything I had learned in Omaha in order just to survive and move forward. Folks in D.C. were like, ‘Oh yeah, another small town hick girl come to town to try to make a way for herself.’ It was an entirely different environment.”
Remarkable connections opened doors.
“I was prepared to recognize an opportunity and take full advantage of it. Howard University (whose School of Communication is named after her) literally groomed me. They were proud of the fact I was the first woman in the position they placed me in and they kept going with me because Katharine Graham (the late Washington Post publisher) was enthusiastic about me.”
She met Graham through the late Susan Thompson Buffett, the first wife of billionaire investor and then-major Post shareholder Warren Buffett.
“Susie was staying at her house. At that time Susie was a singer with professional entertainment aspirations and I was her manager.”
Hughes already knew Buffett from their shared social activism in Omaha.
“Katharine Graham took an interest in me. Because of her interest in me other people, including the folks at Howard University, embraced me. They saw potential in me. They paid for me to get training at Harvard University and the University of Chicago.”
The late publishing magnate John H. Johnson (Ebony, Jet magazines) became a friend, mentor and adviser.
She first got schooled in community-based black media by Omaha Star publisher Mildred Brown and columnist Charlie Washington. Her keen social consciousness got sharpened by Ernie Chambers, Rodney Wead and Al Goodwin. Thus, her guiding credo: “I’m unapologetically in the black people business.”
“In Omaha, we had black pride and black love and a militancy that was very unique. When you’re a child growing up in that you just assume you’re supposed to try to make life better for your people. That’s what was engrained in us. We didn’t have to wait to February for black history. We were told of great black accomplishments at church, in school, in social gatherings. I thank Omaha for instilling that in me.
“The combination of Charlie (Washington) always writing the truth and Mildred (Brown) keeping a newspaper solvent were both sides of my personality – the commitment side and the entrepreneurial side. Charlie taught me how to be proud of my blackness and Mildred taught me how not to compromise my blackness.”
Working at KOWH. the metro’s first black radio station, affirmed for her blacks could realize their media dreams.
Fulfilling her dreams necessitated leaving home.
“If I had not left Omaha I probably would not have become a successful entrepreneur because I had a certain comfort level here.”
Her career’s based on the proposition black media is the unfiltered voice of a people.
“It is impossible for a culture that enslaved you to accurately portray you. Our people are still under oppression and denied opportunities. We don’t need anybody to give us anything, just get the hell out of our way. All we want is self-determination.”
She advocates black consumers collectively focus their purchasing power in support of black businesses, thus creating greater opportunities for economic growth and job creation within black communities.
Her visit home sparked bittersweet nostalgia.
“Driving down North 24th Street was so disturbing to me,” she said of sparse business activity along this former Street of Dreams now undergoing revival efforts.
Fittingly for someone whose amplified voice reaches millions, the North Omaha Legends Award she received celebrates her work “”to empower individuals and communities through the power of information.”
She thanked those “who removed obstacles out of my path so I could be who God destined me to be” and “Omaha’s tough love” for pushing her to excel.
“I haven’t done it on my own. Right time, right place, right people. Sometimes prepared, sometimes not. But the combination of it propelled me forward.”
She rejects the idea her recognition here was overdue.
“Everything in its proper time. I don’t think I’ve been overlooked or anything. Nothing’s better than your hometown saying job well done.”
Meanwhile, when she gets asked, “Are there black people in Omaha?” she’ll continue bragging on its notable black sons and daughters:
Bob Gibson
Malcolm X
Buddy Miles
Marlin Briscoe
John Beasley
Gabrielle Union
Monty Ross
Yolonda Ross
Kevyn Morrow
Q. Smith
“I want to help put Omaha in the right light. I am unapologetically Omaha until the day I die.”
Visit https://urban1.com.
Read more of Leo Adam Biga’s work at https://leoadambiga.com.
The Reader asked some African-American native Omaha media professionals what they find inspiring about Cathy Hughes:
ANGEL MARTIN
Freelance journalist
“Just to see where she started from in her career with a small studio in D.C. to large media owner. She was determined to never give up no matter what challenges she had to face. Very inspiring for a freelance journalist and radio host-producer at Mind and Soul/Malcolm X Radio like me. She also comes from very humble beginnings right in the Omaha metro. A very positive example of what can happen when you keep your eyes on the prize, so to speak.
“With her being a double minority -– this is a great example of how one should not only play with the ‘good ol’ boys’ but rather change the rules and win. When you think of radio and media ownership, Oprah’s name comes to mind and when you do your research you’ll soon realize Ms. Hughes is right up there, in fact she’s the number two based on her net worth.”
_ _ _
MONIQUE FARMER
Omaha Public Schools communications director
“Her accomplishments are truly inspirational, particularly for African-American women in the fields of journalism, communication, entertainment and entrepreneurship. She’s been breaking glass ceilings for decades and she continues to prove that some barriers are merely mental. She’s also proven that hard work, drive, discipline and possessing the boldness necessary to reach for one’s goals can account for so much. She makes us native Omahans all proud to be from the city we call home.”
_ _ _
WILLIAM KING
Founder, 1690-AM The One and 95.7-FM The Boss
“It’s inspiring because I’m currently walking in her footsteps with the creation of radio stations. I’m following every lesson from the matriarch of radio and TV.
“She’s an example that greatness come from the North Omaha community. It gives one the belief that if she can do it so can I. It’s motivation that drives you to succeed.
I recently talked to her and our conversation focused on both of us telling our stories on how we struggled and sacrificed to build our radio stations.”
_ _ _
MICHELLE TROXCLAIR
Mind and Soul radio host
“A black woman having achieved the success she has is an inspiration and motivator to all black women. Her accomplishments have transcended the barriers of race and gender. She has laid an important path.”
_ _ _
CARINA GLOVER
Founder, Ace Empire Media
“Cathy Hughes has raised the bar in the media industry and is inspirational as a black woman, professional,and business woman. As a young woman from Omaha on the path to building my own empire in media and tech, Cathy Hughes is a major inspiration. On a national scale, there’s a false perception that the roots of successful media companies generate from the west and wast coasts. Cathy demonstrates the barriers that can broken and how there’s no limit to success, despite where you began your journey.”
_ _ _
CHANELLE ELAINE
New York-based film producer (First Match)
“What i find inspiring is Ms. Hughes’ willingness to take chances, to go against expectations and push forward by her own definition of what a young African-American woman can do. She refuses to be put in a box by gender, color or origin, giving us all equity in the landscape of opportunity.”
KM3 reporter Maya Saenz living her dream
KM3 reporter Maya Saenz living her dream
©by Leo Adam Biga
Originally appeared in El Perico (el-perico.com)
KMTV Channel 3 news reporter Maya Saenz is living a dream that started as a girl in rural Colorado watching Telemundo Denver and KUSA NBC Channel 9.
Saenz ended up working at both stations before joining KM3 in 2016.
This youngest of three sisters is the only one not born in Chihuahua, Mexico, where the girls made tradition-rich summer immersions.
Spurred by her immigrant parents’ (her father’s an entrepreneur and her mother’s a teacher) emphasis on education, Maya and her older sisters, Dulce and Nora, graduated from the University of Denver to pursue professional careers.
The family endured a life-changing event when Maya’s undocumented father got deported when she was 12. They moved to El Paso-Juarez to be near the border.
Saenz said, “We had a place in El Paso, but we spent 80 percent of the time in Juarez (on the Mexican side). I crossed the border every single day to go to school in the U.S. because I was too Americanized to go to Mexican schools.”
“My mother was too Americanized to teach in Mexico.”
Saenz didn’t let her unsettled status limit her from student activities.
“As inconvenient as this border barrier was I still had to prepare myself for college.”
When the move first occurred, she said, “I thought it was the worst thing that could happen to us. Looking back, i think it’s one of the best things. Our parents didn’t want us to lose those Mexican values. They wanted us to see them daily and the life we could have had had we stayed in Mexico.”
Having a father barred from the U.S. personally informs the immigration separation stories she covers today.
“l’ve lived it. I feel I can definitely relate when I interview people. That experience made me understanding of situations and circumstances that people from all paths of life face. It made me conscious that we have no idea what people are going through at home.”
Her father’s “restarted life in Mexico,” where he has his own business.
“It’s definitely been hard not having him here. You want your parents there for everything you accomplish.”
The Saenzes do stay connected.
“We’re a very close family. We’re on group text every day. I call my parents every single night on my way home from work. My father knows my day to day life, he knows what stories I do, he’s able to watch me on the evening news. He knows what makes me happy. Just the other day, he texted me, my sisters and my mom, saying, ‘I love you all and I live proudly for you four.'”
She finds relief talking to family after filing emotionally wrenching stories in which someone’s lost a loved one.
“You don’t want to go home and stay in that state of mind. Communicating with family helps to kind of shake it off.”
Though she’s clearly found her calling, in college Saenz needed assurance TV was the right path.
“I knew I had the desire and the drive,” she said, “but I didn’t know realistically if a young Mexican-American girl was going to be able to make it. I had this professor, Laressa Watlington, who had been an anchor for Univision. I grabbed onto her and bugged her about how do I get this and how do I do that. She opened doors for me.
“We actually ended up working together at Telemundo Denver after I graduated. I’m still very close with her. She’s definitely a mentor in my life.”
The University of Denver made sense since her sisters preceded her there.
“Being Mexican-American, family is everything. Having to move away from my parents in El Paso, it was very important I be surrounded by my sisters during this culture shock experience. Having my sisters there really helped me get assimilated. I really needed that family support, leadership and guidance.”
Internships and jobs prepared her for her fast-track rise.
“I knew I just had to hustle and graduate and become successful like my sisters did.”
Moving forward, she said, “I definitely want to stay in news and to tell people’s stories. I just hope my platform gets bigger.”
Her career began in Spanish-language television. She set her sights on the English-speaking market in order to present Hispanic stories not being told there.
Upon finding she was “the only brown person in the newsroom” at KM3, she said, “I was like, wow. what a scary challenge but also what a great opportunity.”
She doesn’t like being the obligatory brown girl striking a blow for inclusivisty.
“Sometimes people don’t even pay attention to what you’re saying or the story – they just see you.”
On the other hand, her skin color and Spanish fluency allow her to get stories others can’t.
“I’m able to talk to people who may even know English but don’t trust other reporters. They trust me because of my background. As much as I’d like people to recognize me just for my work, I own being the Hispanic reporter.”
“Coming to Nebraska, I did not honestly think I was going to cover as many Latinos as I have. I feel like I’ve contributed to covering positive stories from the Hispanic community to where they feel they have someone they can count on.”
Her community outreach sees her emcee Latino Center of the Midlands, Women on a Mission for Change and Cinco de Mayo events, among others.
She knows young Latinos watch her with admiration the same way she did her TV news idols.
“I’m very conscious of the role I’m playing. In public, I make a point talking to Latino youth to them know, yeah, I’m a Latino reporting the news, and you can, too.”
Follow her at https://www.facebook.com/MayaSaenzNew.
John Knicely: A life in television five decades strong
John Knicely: A life in television five decades strong
©Story by Leo Adam Biga
©Photos by Jeff Reinhardt
Appearing in the March 2018 issue of New Horizon
Anchormen are mainstays of the old local network affiliate television tradition that saw men, almost never women, read news on-air. Much has changed in TV in terms of gender equity. Women anchors, reporters and news directors are common now,. But there’s no getting around the fact that for a large portion of the viewing audience age 55 and above, a man delivering the news was the norm. Though men now share newscasting duties with women as part of co-anchor teams, it’s still a male-dominated field behind the camera.
Just as there’s frequent turnover in other industries, people don’t stay put in broadcast journalism very long. In TV, where ratings and focus groups rule job security and on-air personalities look to bigger markets, station hopping comes with the territory. Plus, reporting-anchoring is often a gateway to other careers, such as corporate public affairs. That’s why WOWT co-anchor John Knicely is that rarest of creatures. He’s been the face of the same station for 26 years. It constitutes the longest run by any one anchor in this market since television emerged in the late 1940s-early 1950s.
His presence on local TV extends back even further – all the way to 1974, when the Sidney, Neb. native and University of Nebraska Lincoln graduate first joined WOWT, not as a newsman but on the sports side. He was a popular Omaha TV sports figure from then through 1981, when he made his only career move outside this market to do sports in St. Louis for three years. He returned to Omaha in 1984, still doing sports, only at WOWT’s chief rival, KETV, where he was part of the top-rated local newscast team that also featured Carol Schrader, Michael Scott and Jim Flowers.
Going from sports to news and connecting with viewers
Then, in 1992, he was part of a media shakeup that made headlines when he and Flowers left No. 1 KETV for then doormate WOWT and he simultaneously made the unusual move over from the sports desk to the news desk. WOWT’s ratings climbed and he’s remained in the anchor chair ever since.
“I had heard of another sports guy who made that transition in another market,” Knicely said of the sports to news switch. “As we thought about it, my wife and I, it was a way to advance and not have to move out of town. With five kids at home at the time it was really appealing. It was, I suppose, taking a chance because you’re known for 20 years in sports and then changing over to news. But we had a really good consultant then. He said, ‘Don’t try to be any different just because you’re doing news now – be yourself’ – which was great advice. You don’t have to be something else.
“The biggest thing was meshing with my co-anchor Pat Persuad. It’s not that it had to be hard or anything. it’s just that I was always sports alone. I produced everything myself – went out into the field and did it and it was done. But in this case you’re working with somebody and there’s kind of a rhythm you need to develop and get into – and a trust . And for Pat, she had a sports guy coming in to do this. She’d had a couple previous anchors that she worked with. She was very gracious. My wife Sue and I made a point to go out to lunch with Pat so that she could get to know us better.”
In broadcast journalism, it’s all about connecting enough with viewers to make them feel comfortable having you, so to speak, in their living room or kitchen or bedroom.
“You make a connection if you’re genuine, if you’re real about who you are,” Knicely said. “There’s a comfort level I think that develops. Of course, not everybody’s going to like your style or like something about you, but that’s the business.
“You think back to the first time you were on TV and how foreign that camera lens seemed to you. You’re wondering, ‘What am I talking to?’ There’s nothing talking back to you or anything. But I think pretty early on I was able to get that and be at ease doing it, and if you’re at ease, then I think your viewer’s at ease, too.”
He actually discovered his knack for communicating to others in high school speech class.
“I got in front of the class to give a speech and I just felt comfortable, right at home. I really enjoyed it. There was something about them responding to what I said. I usually did something that I thought was humorous. You got that instant feedback” not unlike a stage performer.
“I was successful at it.”
Just as many successful communicators imagine they’re speaking to one person in the audience, Knicely said, “I think in a way I do that – it’s almost like the camera becomes that individual. It’s the only thing out there. You don’t really think about the number of people you’re being seen and heard by. but it’s definitely that projection right into that camera.”
He’s not always at his best.
“I think some nights you don’t feel like you connected as well. Maybe the copy didn’t get in early enough for you to look at it and make some changes – because it has to be conversational. That’s really critical.”
A good newscast presentation has to do with intangibles like charisma, chemistry and energy but also measurables like pace. Anything can throw the whole works off, whether a flubbed line or a technological glitch or just not feeling yourself.
Knicely’s consistently resonated with enough viewers – two generations of them – that he’s outlasted countless other local on-air talents. Along the way, he’s carved a niche as a participatory journalist. It started with the “I Challenge John” series he did at KETV and it’s continued through the “John at Work” and “Knicely Done” segments he’s become known for at WOWT. He’s also developed a sterling reputation for integrity.
A man of faith
Off the air, he often shares his values and faith at public functions where he’s asked to speak.
He finds congruence between his on-air and off-air self.
“If I didn’t have my faith, it would be a different story because I may then have to be this person on camera but off the camera a different person. But since I’m the same person in both places that really takes that kind of pressure off because it’s nothing I really have to worry about since I’m still being myself.”
His professionalism doesn’t allow his personal views to leak through his work as a journalist.
“In regard to the stories you do, it’s always objective and both sides of the story. I understand there are different views and feelings and it’s not my job to give my views. If I’m speaking at an organization that invites me to come and speak and they ask me to share my faith, I’m certainly able to do that.”
Ageless
As Omaha’s version of Dick Clark, he’s seemingly defied aging by still looking remarkably like he did when he started all those years ago. The former high school athlete – he played football, basketball and golf – has always made fitness a priority and he still exercises most every day. At the station he gets in a workout between evening newscasts at its subterranean workout room, complete with racquetball court and basketball hoop. When his kids were young and visiting dad at work, they’d shoot hoops there.
He’s gracefully aged into Omaha’s longest-lived TV icon. He’s a grandfather several times over. He’s twice the age of most of his colleagues and has more experience in the business than many of them have lived. All of which makes him the dean of area TV journalists.
Still manning the anchor desk at age 66 means he’s also defied a growing trend toward younger on-air talent. His familiar face and age may actually be a plus for audiences since the demographic that consumes network affiliate programs tends to be older and thus he’s the face of a proven, trusted news organization. That matters in an era with a glut of online news and social media, much of it unreliable or unvetted.
Doing it all
Knicely has not only withstood TV’s ageism, he’s gone against the grain by shooting, editing and writing his own stories in the field – a rare practice among anchors. It flies in the face of the stereotype that anchors are talking air heads who can’t string two words together unless they’re scripted for them on a teleprompter, or in today’s studio world, on an Ipad.
“There aren’t many news anchors that go out and shoot a story, edit it, write it, read it. ‘Knicely Done’ – I do all that myself. They’ve given me a camera to use. I know exactly what I want and I know what makes a good story. I know the natural sound you’ve got to mix in, so I can shoot it and produce it. Some of that goes back to shooting sports – I was familiar with angles and shots.
“But it’s a lot of extra work doing it that way. The typical way – you go do the interview, write the story and then hand it off and that’s all your involvement is. But I don’t do it that way. My way, there is that accomplishment and the creativeness you get to express.”
He’s heard the jokes about anchor people and, he said, “I don’t think it applies to me because I’m involved in every aspect and want to be,” adding, “I want to have a good product I present that has my name on it.”
Filing his own stories for “John at Work” and “Knicely Done” has given him an opportunity to stand apart from the pack by getting his hands dirty and showing his personality. For the latter, he did everything from working on a garbage hauling crew to climbing a 2,000 foot television tower to being a middle school principal to flying with the Blue Angels.
“The one thing about it is that it keeps it fresh and new. You’re presenting something in a different fashion. News doesn’t always have to be serious. It can be informative and give you an idea of what’s going on in the community that you wouldn’t otherwise hear about. There’s really good things about that approach. And it’s not about you, it’s the fact that this is what’s happening behind the scenes with certain jobs or personalities in our community that you get to showcase.”
The segments also counter the frequent criticism leveled at TV news that it reports too much negativity.
“You hear all the time, ‘Why do you guys only give the bad news?’ Well, we don’t. When the good news kind of goes by and you’ve watched it, I don’t know what happens to it. It’s like, ‘Did you forget that we did a good positive story?’ ‘Knicely Done’ is always positive. It’s highlighting good works in our community.
“Maybe because of the emphasis of the lead story at the top of the newscast, which is usually a serious story about an issue or some crime or disaster, the good news kind of gets lost. It’s kind of sad that’s the case. Also, you’re exposed to news throughout the day with the different mediums out there and you hear a lot of bickering and negative things going on and you kind of lump it all together with news in general. Maybe viewers are not as discriminating in thinking about it.”
He’s convinced that local news broadcasts, whether over the air or streaming, remain relevant.
“The first thing would be breaking news because it’s happening now and we can bring it to you right now, Newspapers have video and online services, so you can get it there, but not in the same capacity, Then there’s the local issues that develop that we cover in real-time. It could be the school board voting that night on the new superintendent and we capture the results and reactions on camera. We can bring you really anything happening in the city – crime and scams going on right now, things you need to be aware of as a viewer.”
On the lighter side, he’s a pretty good sport who doesn’t take himself too seriously. whether working someone else’s job or accepting a competitive challenge.
“Yeah, you have to know how to fail and live with it. It’s always pretty much tongue-in-cheek. We make it fun.”
He no sooner started the “I Challenge John” pieces, he said, then he was “swamped with letters – I couldn’t answer them all and I couldn’t do them all.” Many challenges he accepted were from kids. “I lost to a bunch of 9 and 10 year olds.” Once, memorably, he played goalie and tried and failed to stop youth ice hockey players from scoring on him. “My self-esteem just sank. But they were fun things.”
He’ll never forget two challenges.
“A guy had me come out to Carter Lake for a water ski challenge. Well, I water ski, so I thought this shouldn’t be tough. We get out in the boat and he says, ‘See that ski jump over there? You’re going to go over that.’ Sure enough, next thing I knew i went over it. He told me beforehand, ‘When you hit that, don’t pull back on the rope.’ There’s this trickle of water always coming down on the board to keep it slippery – so you can slide. Well, I hit that ramp, pulled back on the rope, and my skis started going straight up. I was looking right up into heaven. I landed smack on my back and went under water and I thought, ‘Okay, the rescue boat is going to be here,’ and it was and the guys were laughing.
“One humiliation after another.
“Another time, I played chess at Brownell-Talbot against their champion. He was a brilliant senior. He played me with a paper sack over his head in front of the whole student body. They would call out my move and in 10 seconds he had the next move, and he checkmated me, I later ran into one of the professors there, and he said, ‘I know chess and I knew he had you checkmated earlier.’ And so I asked the kid, ‘Why didn’t you do it then?’ and he said, ‘Well, I promised the student body I’d take the whole hour.'”
Some challenges Knicely politely declined out of safety concerns. Para sailing was one. “I thought, ‘I’ve got five kids, I can’t get up in that thing by myself.’ I even declined parachuting. I’ve done it since.”
From the heart
Perhaps the most personal storiy he ever filed was in tribute to the derring-do of his late father, Jack Richard Knicely, an Omaha native who co-piloted B-24s and C-46s in the China-Burma-India Theater. He flew missions over the “Hump” (Himalayan Mountains). The son accompanied the father on an honor flight to Washington D.C. to visit the World War II Memorial.
The trip meant a lot to both of them.
“You won’t find anyone more loving of his country than my dad was. In his late age he would get tearful when he would talk about the men and women who served. There was one very dangerous, almost desperate situation that his co-pilot pulled them out of that he would get tearful about remembering.
“That memorial visit was really fantastic because the plane was full of veterans. When we got to D.C.. there was a gauntlet of people cheering as all these veterans walked through and, boy. it was emotional. Dad actually sat next to a guy who also flew B-24s. Pretty amazing. It was so special to see Dad’s reaction to what a great tribute they put together in their honor. It was humbling. It was just great to experience it with him.”
The Greatest Generation holds great store for Knicely.
“I love that description When you think that they were 18. 19, 20 years-old and without question enlisted right away to do what they could for our country. Totally selfless. We can’t thank them enough.”
His father’s passing offered another opportunity to pay respect to his service, which included years in the Air Force Reserves before retiring with the rank of colonel.
“At his funeral they had a full military salute. As we drove into the cemetery I looked over at all these young military people standing at attention as the hearse drove by. Then they had the gun salute and folding of the flag and presentation. Wow, did that ever hit hardcore .”
Showing another side of things
Knicely’s entrepreneurial news reporting has its roots in a series he did at WOWT about two decades ago.
“Our news director then was John Clark and I asked him, ‘Can you just give me my own camera because it will free me up to get some things that otherwise I can’t get?’ So, he did. It started that way. He had seen my work at KETV. But my going out and finding stories really evolved from when I came over to WOWT in 1992. We had a little time before I could go on the air and so I proposed that I go live in the projects in North Omaha for three days. John assigned a photographer to me who was kind of street smart and we went in and lived in the Hilltop Housing project for two nights and three days and found just a whole bunch of positive stories that you don’t hear about in that community of young women really working hard to improve, take care of their families and get out.
“The one apartment in the whole complex that allowed the bad guys to come in just tortured everybody. That’s the way it was. The idea for the series kind of caught my news director off guard. He was like, ‘Should we do this or not?” He okayed it and we had three good nights of stories out of it. A lot of good positive stuff. We called it ‘Three Days in The Jets’ because the people living there called the projects The Jets. I edited it and wrote it. I used music. Back then, you could use music more. It makes a big difference in a story.”
A purpose-driven life and career
Hundreds of stories have followed. He’s won recognition from his peers for his work. Yet, this nearly 45-year fixture of Omaha media wasn’t even sure he wanted a career in television as late as his graduation from UNL with a broadcast journalism degree.
“My dad was a lawyer. My brother’s a lawyer. Even right to the end of school I was still kind of thinking that, too.”
There already was a journalist in the family though. His mother Betty wrote a column called “Panhandle Mother” for the Sidney Star-Telegraph that John admired and she encouraged his own reporting interests.
Then fate or divine providence intervened.
“Coming out of college, I had two job offers. One was Sioux City TV. The other was Lincoln radio. I took the one in Lincoln because I had a girlfriend in Lincoln. TV would have been the better choice in hindsight. But then three months later there was a job opening at Channel 6 in Omaha and my old college professor Dr. Larry Walklin said, ‘You should apply for that.’ It was a weekend sports job. So I came down here and interviewed.
“I had long hair back then. I got the job in like a week’s time. The opportunity just came. I really think God opened the door for me at that time. There was a sense about it that this is supposed to happen.”
He’s indebted to his teacher for the job tip.
“He didn’t have to call me and find me. I was out of school. But he was so nice to do that and I’ve thanked him several times since.”
An aphorism from his old prof turned words to live by once Knicely entered the real world of working media.
“Dr. Walklin always told us ‘never assume anything.’ In college you didn’t understand what that meant, but, boy, when you get in the business you do.”
Knicely joined a strong, veteran newscast.
“Gary Kerr was the anchor. Dale Munson did weather, Steve Murphy was news director, Ray Depa was assistant news director. Wally Dean was there, too. They were so professional. True journalists. They were just a tremendous example and it was a real learning experience working around them. Wonderful guys.”
The three broadcast network affiliates had the market to themselves.
“It was such a different era back then with just three TV stations. It was very competitive.”
Knicely was off and running in his career. But something was missing.
“I’d probably worked here six months to a year. I had all these things going for me: a great job, friends, fun activities. You’d think you’d be happy because you’re meeting all these goals. But I just had this shallowness inside me. The depth wasn’t there. I was kind of running from God and couldn’t get away. It was like He was saying, ‘John, I have a real purpose for your life,’ and it just resonated for me.
“Things were happening in my family, too, with deeper walks in faith by my mom and dad and my brother. I grew up around church but I realized, ‘No, there’s some depth they have that I don’t. Finally, I got down on my knees on Christmas Eve. I was working alone. I just said, ‘Alright, Lord, I give you my life – you use it the way you want to use it, and that’s my commitment to you.’ It was a very personal thing. God really spoke into my life. I started reading the Bible. It was jumping off the pages to me. That was 1975. It’s been a long time.”
Moving past tragedy and trauma
His faith was seriously tested before and after his born again experience. In his teens his mother Betty was diagnosed with a brain tumor.
“She had an operation and never really recovered from that. She was in a coma state. Before she passed away, we all came home and she would acknowledge us. My brother asked her if she’d like to say the Lord’s Prayer and in spite of the fact she was in a coma she came out of it to say that with him. Spiritually, it was pretty dramatic for everybody in the family. With our Christian faith, we’re confident she was with the Lord and we’ll meet again one day.”
His father later remarried a widow, Jan, with two girls of her own and thus Knicely found himself part of a blended family as a young adult.
“I didn’t know what to expect with a new mom introduced to the family, There was an adjustment but we all understood what a blessing it was and it proved to be an absolute godsend for everybody. They were married almost 40 years when he passed away at age 92. Her daughters looked at him as Dad. Jan’s just a very loving, kind person and treated us like her own, especially our kids.”
Decades later, Knicely’s own family experienced a crucible no one should have to endure. His daughter Krista was attending Baylor University in Waco, Texas, where she lived alone off campus, when an intruder broke into her place one night and began assaulting her before help arrived. She called her parents in Omaha, distraught after barely escaping with her life.
“It was traumatic,” Knicely recalled. “We get the phone call that night, ‘Mom and dad, somebody just attacked me.’ We’re here and she’s down in Waco and how do you get through the night until you get down there and hold her. The whole ordeal was a miracle of how she was saved. There wasn’t anybody around. There was no hope when this guy attacked. It was clear he was intent on harming her because she fought with everything she could. The first words she remembered saying when she realized this wasn’t some practical joke or something were, ‘Help me, Jesus.’
“While she was still struggling, being choked, two guys coming to pick her up saw what was going on through the window and one ran to get police officers they’d just pased in the neighborhood. The officers got there and burst in with guns drawn. They told the guy to freeze but he bolted and Krista’s friends ran after him, caught up to him and tackled him, and put a nice welt on the guy for me. He was arrested. It turned out he had done similar things to other women.”
The criminal justice process meant reliving the incident.
“There was the whole ordeal of going through the trial,” Knicely said. “At the sentencing you have the opportunity to speak to the defendant. I wrestled all night with whether I was going to say anything or not. The next day I still hadn’t decided. Then, in the courtroom the next thing I know I’m moving up to the stand and talking.”
He believes what he spoke was inspired from on high.
“I was able to address that guy and tell him ‘what you did is not going to have a hold over our family – we forgive you for what you did, it’s wrong, and you’re going to get the punishment you deserve.’ It just kind of released everything on behalf of my family and Krista my daughter.”
Krista’s moved on with her life but there’s still repercussions.
“She still has to work through that,” Knicely said. “It’s not been the easiest healing. When she was able to forgive her perpetrator it was a transformation and she went on to become Miss Nebraska. Her platform was bringing awareness about violence against women. We couldn’t have known all these positive things were going to happen. We’re still so thankful to this day.”
Stolid, almost never controversial, and still at it
Knicely is in a decidedly young person’s game and he acknowledges, “I’m getting to the end of my career. I’m aware of that.”
His son John surprised him by following him in the business. John junior is now an anchor in Seattle.
“I told him even if he wasn’t my son, I’d watch him. He does a good job.”
Knicely, the “old man,” doesn’t concede anything.
“I feel like I’m just as active as I ever was.”
The work also hasn’t grown stale for him.
“It’s still fresh in many ways and that doesn’t seem possible. But it might be because the content changes every night and there’s a change that happens as you sit down to go on camera and do the news. It’s an opportunity to connect with viewers.
“It’s pretty remarkable that it’s not like, ‘Oh no, not this again.’ But it’s not that way. It’s the people you work with, too, that make a difference. Mallory’s full of life and fun to joke with. Rusty Lord and Ross Jernstrom are fun.”
Knicely’s squeaky clean image has never been tarnished by controversy, He did suffer ribbing for an on-air faux pas when he said crystal meth instead of Crystal Light and the mistake ended up on the butt of a joke on Jimmy Fallon’s late night show.
Years earlier, Knicely was cast as a villain in some circles for jumping ship from KETV to WOWT. Channel 6 was motivated to break up the ratings leader team at Channel 7 and Knicely knew of the strategy thanks to an inside source.
“I was communicating with a person I knew at 6. Then I had a clandestine meeting with the general manager at a very discreet little coffee shop. I realized in talking to him that, yeah, this could happen. WOWT’s concern was a non-compete clause in my contract which said you had to stay off the air for a year in the market. They were content with that. Well, when 6 hired me and Jim Flowers, Channel 7 went right to a judge to make sure non-compete was enforced. But the judge ruled against them, saying Neb. is a right to work state and there was nothing so unique about us that couldn’t be replaced, so we were on the air in three months instead of a year.”
The only time Knicely left for a bigger market was St. Louis. There were other occasions when he eyed a move. When still doing sports at 7, he was the runner-up for the sports director slot at a station in Phoenix.
“But being close to family and being comfortable raising my kids in this community won out and I just didn’t very actively pursue anything. If I was contacted by somebody, I considered it, but …”
Home is where the heart. That’s why he’s here to stay.
Follow John at https://www.facebook.com/john.knicely.