second D.J. Convention (hosted by Todd Storz) of a year earlier. This was
the convention that set off the payola investigation as it was making way too much noise. Congress
wanted to know why the record companies were spending so much money on “a big party.” I was told by
DJs who were there that over a hundred prostitutes had been flown in. Many singers got in the act, too.
It was an orgy! Miami DJs said they could walk from one Americana hotel room to another and have
their pick.
So, when I got to Miami, big-time DJs like Alan Freed and Bruce Morrow were in hiding from the payola investigation. None of ’em made the ratings against us regulars. The kids thought Cousin Brucie was corny, for example.
I got my job at WAME because it was harboring one of those northern “stars in hiding.” Mickey Shorr from Detroit had never worked his own board, and for some reason, couldn’t learn. When I walked in, unshaven PD Fred Hall was wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and old WWII rubber Air Corps earphones on his head. He put on my audition tape, grabbed both my paws and shouted emotionally, “I like your hands, kid, I like your hands!” I got the job because I could cue up a tape and get a record to play at the right speed. They were desperate, and, as they say: “…being there at the right time.”