Rant #213: A Voice Is Stilled

No, I am not talking about mine. I went on my business trip, did what I had to do, returned, and basically fell into a stack of work and other things that had to be taken care of. While I am not at a comfortable point yet, I am getting there.

The voice that was stilled the other day was that of Ron Lundy, one of the greatest of the New York AM disk jockeys of the 1960s and 1970s. He died after a long illness, but his voice, and the memories that that voice produced, will live on for the generation that he used to salute by saying "Hello, Love!"

You wouldn't think a guy with a Southern drawl would make it in the big city like he did, but he was a disk Jockey with AM music powerhouse WABC when that station was probably the most important radio station on the planet. Along with other classic AM DJs like Bruce Morrow, Harry Harrison and Dan Ingram, he made that station the top station in the country; you had to have your record on the station for it to be a hit if not just in New York, then across the country.

Tastes changed, and when WABC went talk, Lundy and the others moved over the WCBS-FM, establishing that station as the No. 1 oldies station in the country. That station also changed gears for a while, but with the constant campaigning by fans of the old format and by the classic DJs, that station returned to the oldies format a few years back.

Lundy was a DJ when DJs, the music they played, and the stations that they played this music on, were an incredibly important part of the fabric of New York City and every major city across the country. In New York--and elsewhere, since its signal often reached thousands of miles--everyone listened to WABC, and the station was almost something of an electronic community center, not only delivering the hottest music around, but also news, weather, and local information. It was almost the Internet of its time.

Ron Lundy was a classic. Although not as brash as Ingram and Morrow--he was more in the Harrison mode--he has his own nuances that were so inviting that when listening to him, it was like you were listening to a friend talking directly to you--not over you, under you, or through you, like today's DJs. Sure, the music was the important thing, but when Lundy and the others had time to talk, you listened. You had to, because if you didn't, you would definitely miss something that you would regret later on.

Lundy joins another one of the classic DJs of the time--Scott Muni--in a better place. With these classic DJs not getting any younger, that fraternity will sadly grow over the next several years.

I just hope that they are doing what they love, and what we loved about them.

"This is Ron Lundy from the greatest city in the world"--man, I miss him already.