Losing A Friend
Today just by sheer coincidence, I was on the Internet and found a website dedicated to a radio station that I used to work for, 98.9 WMMO Orlando. We were an amazing radio station that was launched from scratch. A brand new frequency, and call letters. Entirely new to the Orlando Radio Market.
There were several unique features. First, the station offices and studios were located on the 28th floor of the Sun Bank Tower (now Sun Trust) in downtown Orlando. Not only that, but ALL the equipment and broadcast facility was in the tower.
Inside one of the four turrets, engineers found a way to incorporate the radio tower as part of the buildings skeleton. The very top room of the tower was our transmitter site. Down on the 28th floor, the broadcast studio was in the corner of the building with floor to ceiling glass walls offering an amazing view of the city, and well beyond Disney. The fireworks at night were amazing from such a place.
I was doing the morning show ... 5:30am-10am M-F and 10am-3pm on Saturdays. Frequently, Metro Traffic Control would call me and ask for a birds eye view of the traffic snarls from my unique vantage point. There were some downsides. Parking for one. I had to pay to park, about $60/month if I remember correctly and it was not in our building. My garage was several blocks away and I would have to walk through the downtown streets of Orlando in the dark at 5AM to get to the station. I ran into quite an array of characters during those hours.
Our Program Director was the brilliant and highly respected Cary Pall. He had the secret to the format in his head. It was Adult-Rock, but on the softer side. No playing single releases, always the album version. No talking over the front or tail ends of the songs. Nothing was played that reminded people of war or violence. And the regular song rotation was close to 1,000 songs rather than the typical radio station playing 250-300 songs. If it reminded people of Viet Nam ... no play. If it reminded people of the Kent State shooting ... no play.
So powerful was the launch, and so new was the approach, that all of us had to un-radio ourselves. We had to completely change our style to a much more laid-back casual style. We also had to be knowledgable of the music and the Artists. We provided a tremendous amount of trivia and information about what we played on the air. We were encouraged to learn as much about the music and the era as was possible.
So successful was this new venture, that it won Billboard Magazine's "Radio Station of The Year" and Cary Pall was voted Billboard's "Program Director of The Year." Not too shabby my friends. The entire country knew about WMMO Orlando. There was no hiding. We had become a serious contender. You always knew it was us by the signature two tone sounder at the top of every hour underneath a live spoken ID. It was a piece of a Yessong, and it was our signature.
Now I am not a morning person. I struggled with this shift. And there weren't too many times when I got there early. I would roll out of bed at 3:30am, shower, and hit the road by 4:45am. A quick stop at the all night McDonalds for an Egg McMuffin and a coffee, and down I-4 I rolled. Not a soul in sight. Just the eventual view of the downtown high-rises lit up in the distance. Top down on the convertible for the awakening factor, and eventually I would get downtown.
I was due on the air at 5:30am. There was always a song that would start at 5:30 and it was my time to sign on and say hi. Ending his shift every morning, was the amazing Paul Resnik. He was an encyclopedia of rock n' roll, and a damn fine human being. I will always remember occasionally he would bring this jar filled with some sort of fermented cabbage called Kim Chee. It stunk up the whole building, but he loved to eat it. I still tell stories about it.
On those mornings when I was running down to the wire to get there, I would literally run down the hallway to the studio as the song was ending, Paul would have the door propped open, and he would hold my headphones open in front of the mic so I could just step in and do my quick break at 5:30 ... as if I had been there having coffee and reading the paper. He covered my ass more times than I can count. I followed him on the air every weekday morning, and on Saturdays as well. We were co-workers, and we were friends. I would bitch about stuff, and he would tell me everything was gonna be alright.
One Saturday, a girl that worked for one of the pizza delivery companies somehow convinced the security guard downstairs that we had ordered a pizza and she was delivering it. I'm sure the Daisy Dukes and tank top were instrumental in getting past the security guard. He called us upstairs and said she was on the way up the elevator. Ok, bonus ... free pizza right? We were both the perfect gentlemen, gave her a tour of the station, tipped her some cash, thanked her, and sent her on her way. She was a fan who worked delivering pizza and wanted to bring us one. Innocent and thoughtful.
However, when her boyfriend heard she had stopped by, he assumed the worst. Instead of investigating, he beat the living hell out of her. Put her in the hospital for weeks. Broken bones, broken jaw, knocked out teeth, and he was on the run from the law. He was also looking for Paul and I next. We ended up having to be brought to our cars by security personnel as added protection against this guy. They eventually caught him, he went to the big house, and 3 years later we saw the girl at one of our outdoor concerts. She had recovered, gotten married, and had a baby.
Eventually, I went back to radio in Washington, DC, and Paul left to go to work for Seagate. He was a big computer guy and had a great offer. Years later, when Maria and I returned to Orlando to run my Voiceover business full-time, I took a weekend gig at Smooth Jazz WLOQ in Winter Park. My first shift, I answered the request line, and there was Paul. "Welcome back to Orlando" he said. It was great to hear his voice. We swore we would get together soon, but time passed and he lived so far from where I lived.
We talked on the phone a few times and were trying to set up a lunch meeting. Thats when my pacemaker lead broke and I went through surgical and recovery hell for two years. We never got that chance to get together, and today ... I learned that Paul Resnik has passed on the the afterlife. He was suffering from COPD and it got the best of him. Paul was 63, I am 57. It hit me hard. Especially since I had no clue that he was even sick. And to read about it on a dedication site with "deceased" next to his picture and name ... I was devastated. For the last 9 months I have been dealing with Anxiety and Panic Attacks. This was fuel for a very bad day.
I wish the best for Paul's remaining family, his wife and kids, and I know that somewhere in the afterlife, he's winning at Rock 'n Roll trivia. Do yourself a favour, if you intend on seeing an old friend, don't keep putting it off ... or else it may be a very long time before you are reunited in the realm of Spirit.
RIP Paul Resnik. You'll be missed. I hope you're cruising the galaxies ... and lighting up the skies.
Justin Taylor, ORDM., OCP., DM.
