What I learned from being the PD at WJR: Part Two
Last week, I wrote about how my WJR era began. I had arrived in Detroit to program WHYT, but right down the hall sat WJR, the biggest, highest-billing, and, let’s be honest, oldest sounding giant in the Capital Cities empire. My mandate was simple: Keep the heritage, protect the legacy, but drag the demos down to the 25–54 sweet spot.
Easy, right? It was like being asked to perform a facelift on a mountain.
The Basics (Even for Legends)
My Top-40 background had already trained me well in being strong on the basics. But my challenge was going to be: how do I build that mindset into WJR, which quite frankly couldn't have been worse at the basics than they were? They acted like they were the only station in Detroit!
The one line I kept running into when I would ask, "Why do we do it that way?" was,
"Because that's how we do it at WJR."
That was about to change.
Many of our air personalities were absolute icons, but they had "legenditis." They were so comfortable that they stopped doing the radio equivalent of brushing their teeth. They rarely mentioned the call letters or the dial position.
In the diary era, if a listener didn't remember the name of the station, you didn't exist. I conducted "WJR 101" to get back to the fundamentals. I’m sure I looked like a green kid from the Top 40 world trying to teach Michelangelo how to hold a paintbrush. But I reminded them: Heritage alone doesn't get ratings credit. Recall does.
We wove the station identity into the airwaves until it felt like breathing. Most important, once we ramped up how we identified the station, through talent, imaging, and jingles, a funny thing happened; the ratings went up. That success, once again, helped me gain the hard-earned trust of the on-air staff. I wasn’t trying to make WJR sound like a Top 40 station; I just wanted it to sound like it lived in the same decade as the listener.
Connecting with the Community
We treated sports and local events like social events. When I negotiated bringing Michigan football back to WJR, I wanted more than play-by-play. I wanted a festival. We turned fall Saturdays into an all-day experience, from early-morning tailgate breakfasts to the final post-game show.
We also made sure WJR was visible everywhere. We launched a live St. Patrick’s Day broadcast from our lobby, hosted by JP McCarthy, which became the “who’s who” event for Detroit’s political and business circles. We took the Detroit Thanksgiving Day Parade, previously just a TV event, and brought it to life on radio, placing our talent along the route.
We quickly discovered that by extending these moments from "just a broadcast" into a "social event," we earned sky-high ratings. It was a circus, but a deliberate one. I even convinced my GM, Ron Pancratz, to shell out $100,000 for a state-of-the-art remote studio. It moved us from being "the radio station" to being the city’s undisputed town square.
Managing the Giants
Working with icons like JP McCarthy requires a level of finesse that isn't taught in any manual. You don't "order" legends to change; you earn their trust.
Most outside observers felt that my #1 obstacle in change would be JP McCarthy. Well, that turned out to be just the opposite. Joe McCarthy was all in. That turned out to be my "secret sauce" because once JP was in, so was everybody else. He was that strong an influence on WJR.
That trust-building didn't always come peacefully, though. I remember the first day our new jingles hit the air; I turned on the radio to hear JP taking call after call of complaints, and giving out my private line on the air! I stormed into the studio, furious. JP just smiled. "I love the jingles," he said. "This was just a great bit to get some attention. Don't worry, it's all good." He was playing 4D chess, using his platform to get the city talking.
Amazingly, once the staff saw that JP was on board, they were too. They became
incredibly open and responsive to the many new ideas I was introducing.
As for Ron Pancratz, he was incredibly supportive, both mentally and financially. He knew the changes had to be made. Was it tough sometimes? Sure. But he had my back when it counted, especially when the Detroit Free Press columnists took their shots, which was exactly what I needed.
The Result
So, what was the end result? Not only did we maintain our #1 overall position, but WJR quickly became the #1 station in the 25–54 demographic.
Looking back, I realize that what we really did was treat a 50,000-watt powerhouse like a 1,000-watt local radio station in a small town. Our "small town" just happened to be the entire state of Michigan, and 38 other states at night!
A Final Thought
WJR taught me that heritage is a powerful engine, but it needs constant tuning. You protect a brand by moving it forward. You respect the audience by giving them the station they love, while ensuring that the station doesn't become a museum piece.
Standing still is a decision. And in radio, standing still is just a slow, polite way of dying. Never be afraid to ruffle a few feathers to keep the giant awake.
I loved my time at WJR and look back on it fondly. It was truly an honor to be the program director of such a storied, respected, and admired radio station. As a lifelong radio guy I will tell you, there is nothing like working at a 50,000-watt clear channel heritage radio station.
