Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, July 5, 1995 TAG: 9507050035
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: CRAIG SHAPIRO THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
DATELINE: WASHINGTON LENGTH: Long
But cradled in the left arm of Wolfman Jack, it became something more. A drum and a holy book. The gospel according to Jackie Wilson and Wilson Pickett, Del Shannon and Dion, James Brown and the Bar-Kays and Screamin' Jay Hawkins.
Eyes closed, dressed in black, a biker's glove on his raised right hand and a Technicolor scarf tied around his head, the Wolfman summoned up that smoke-stained growl:
``I love you!''
Wham!
``You're mine!''
Wham!
``Mine!''
Wham!
``Mine!''
``OWOOOOOO! ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT. OH YEAH. COME ON. WOLFMAN JACK IS HERE WITH YOU, BABY. LET'S ROCK AND ROLL. WE GONNA BOOGIE. OH MY. HOW ARE YOU? HEH-HEH.''
Wolfman Jack was on the air.
Planet Hollywood was garish, relentlessly noisy and crowded. Even on a rainy, sticky evening two Fridays ago, the line of customers waiting to get in snaked down 11th Street, rivaling the queue at the White House, just a 15-minute walk away.
They were at the memorabilia-crammed restaurant to see Darth Vader's helmet, Freddy Krueger's glove and the potter's wheel where Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore made nice in ``Ghost.''
They were there to watch clip after clip of Planet triumvirate Bruce Willis, Sly Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger, and footage of Hollywood's leading ladies, classiest dancers and biggest explosions.
But few people realized that, in a corner of the restaurant, near Kim Hunter's ``Planet of the Apes'' costume and Dan Aykroyd's ``Ghostbusters'' power pack, rock history was made every Friday night.
At least not until they were seated.
``OWOOOOOO! NIGHTTIME IS THE RIGHT TIME. ALL RIGHT, MAMA. YOU GOT WOLFMAN JACK ROCKING THE PLANET AT THE ALL NEW XTRA 104.''
The Wolfman had this gig since February 1994, when he signed on with the Liberty Radio Group, which operates oldies WXTR and alternative-rocker WHFS in Washington. At the time of his death Saturday, ``Live from Planet Hollywood'' was carried on 55 stations across the United States.
It was a far cry from those renegade days when the Wolfman was reinventing rock 'n' roll radio at XERF in Via Cuncio, Mexico, a 250,000-watt AM powerhouse across the border from Del Rio, Texas.
Further still from tiny WYOU in Newport News, Va., where Bob Smith from Brooklyn broke into the business.
``It was a daytime operation,'' Wolfman said just before going on the air June 23. ``I think it was 1270 [on the dial], where all those peanut whistles sit. It was only 1,000 watts - barely covered Newport News - but it got into Norfolk and Hampton Roads. They were playing rhythm and blues.
``I went on the air as Daddy Jules. Daddy Jules, baby.''
To compete with the bigger stations, Daddy Jules started inviting students in after school to dance and make requests on the air. Soon, nearly 100 kids were lined up outside the WYOU studios every day.
``When the numbers came up - Bingo! We beat them like 3-to-1 in the afternoon,'' he said. ``All of a sudden, the station went from being a peanut whistle to something really important. What happens? The owner comes in and dumps it. He sells the station for something like seven times the price he paid for it.
``This guy from New York makes it a sweet music station and I had to become Roger Gordon playing Mantovani. I couldn't believe it. What a jerk.''
Four minutes until air time and Planet Wolfman was hopping.
While an engineer made a quick adjustment to a set of headphones, interns took the names of customers who wanted autographed pictures. Wolfman's on-air partners, Marilyn Thompson from WXTR and Wes Johnson from WHFS, settled into their places; sitting to his left was Lonnie Napier, his longtime manager.
Over the next four hours, the Wolfman jived with callers from South Bend, Salt Lake City and Waco. He took requests for Little Richard, Chuck Berry and the Beach Boys, and ran through bits about Richard Nixon and Newt Gingrich.
And he pounded that phone book.
During breaks he signed autographs, wolfed down a club sandwich and steamed shrimp and started on vegetarian pizza. He posed for pictures, kissed babies, chain-smoked unfiltered Camels, knocked back cups of coffee and bottles of mineral water and didn't once get up to go to the bathroom.
``I grew up listening to Wolfman Jack,'' said WHFS' Johnson. ``I grew up listening to `Clap for the Wolfman' by The Guess Who and never realized that one day I'd be so close that I'd be able to get clap from the Wolfman.''
It might seem like a musical mismatch because Johnson works for a modern-rock station. He's the morning man and creative services director at WHFS, where the playlist features Hole, Live and Hootie and the Blowfish.
``Wolfman Jack transcends all that,'' Johnson said. ``Right now, he is playing oldies and favorites, but Wolfman Jack could very easily be playing Pearl Jam. Wolfman is into good music. Wolfman is basically into everything that is quality about radio.
``Supposedly, we're cutting-edge at WHFS, but Wolfman Jack was sharp when he started out. He defined the cutting edge and he's still slicing through it today.''
Johnson, 34, added that when he first hooked up with the Wolfman, he was awestruck. That didn't last long.
``Normally, you have people who are so wrapped up in their ego and their own little world that they don't take time to be friendly,'' he said. ``The beauty of Wolfman is that everybody he meets, he becomes a friend. He does that over the air, and in person you can multiply that tenfold.''
When the show wrapped at 11 p.m., Wolfman Jack looked every bit of 57 years old.
The day before, in New York, he was up at 5 a.m. His new autobiography, ``Have Mercy! Confessions of the Original Rock 'n' Roll Animal,'' had him on a 20-day promotional tour, and he was a guest on Don Imus' show. The two shared a deep, 25-year friendship.
Later that day, Wolfman flew to Cleveland for an appearance at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, then returned to New York for another round of interviews. He was in Washington the following morning for more interviews.
``Retirement age is 65, ain't it?'' Wolfman said. ``I figure I got another seven or eight more years that I can really do some good. And that's where it is. In the beginning, it was for my own ego trip. Now that I've gotten to a certain place in life, man, I can take what I got and give something to those people out there.
``If I'm a success, the big shots with the money and the stations will turn around and say, `Hey, we need more of these character people' and they're going to search around and put them on the air. Basically, what I'm doing is a real good thing for everybody in radio.''
A lifetime of living hard, and living to tell about it, taught him to see the big picture.
So did a long and loving marriage and the genteel life in Belvidere, N.C., where he lived since 1989. He had just returned to his 160-acre plantation when he died Saturday.
``I used to live in L.A., but if I hadn't moved down to North Carolina I probably would have died of a drug overdose,'' he said. ``I've never been a big drinker, but when it was fashionable in the old days I got into cocaine. I'm not ashamed of it - I wrote about it in my book. I don't do it no more. It would kill me if I do, you understand? My heart wouldn't take it.
``My message is simple,'' he said. ``We're all here to have fun. Everybody thinks it's really hard to have fun. It's not. All you gotta do is do something wonderful for somebody else.''
by CNB