KSQD Origin Stories

In this show, engineer Sandy Stone and board chair Rachel Anne Goodman reminisce about the circuitous route that KSQD’s founders took in getting on the air.

Here is something I wrote up trying to capture a lot of the milestones.

Our story:

Once upon a time back in the 1970’s there was a visionary writer and entrepreneur named Lorenzo Milam who had some money and an audacious dream that if you gave regular people access to a radio microphone, they would make their community a better place to live,  or in his words, “to walk their walk, and talk their talk and know that they and the rest of the world are not irrevocably dead.”

Among the many community stations he founded throughout the U.S. was KUSP in Santa Cruz, California, run by the ‘Pataphysical Broadcasting Foundation. At first it was in a tiny space and run on a shoestring with mostly volunteers and a skeleton crew. Then it grew bigger, got CPB funding, had a full staff, five translators, and reached four counties.

At first, the programming was eclectic beyond belief.  Programmed by mostly volunteers, characters like Corky Walsh, The Hamster of Love, Vicky Bolam, Tim Eagan, Paul Hostetter, Don Mussell, Leigh Hill, Lance Linares, Nikki Silva and more,, the programs ranged from Tibetan nose flute to Indian ragas to modern classical to bluegrass and beyond. There were public auctions at the Octogon Museum and Cajun Chomp and Stomp concerts and remotes from Kuumbwa and the Catalyst, Monterey Jazz and Bach Festivals.

The spirit that imbued the station then was to play music that was unknown to the audience.  Because it was the only game in town, it could be a trend setter. This went on for almost two decades. And then KUSP began running NPR programs, just All Things Considered and Morning Edition at first. Nobody else had done that. It was popular. NPR audiences began asking for more NPR shows. They would pay good money for them. Soon, that was the majority of programming on the station. Names like Terry Gross, Noah Adams, Susan Stamberg and Garrison Keillor became better known than local djs.  Eventually, as the station leadership grew more money-focused, they relied more heavily on NPR, and most of the volunteers were “fired” in favor of paid announcers who management could depend on to read exactly what they were told, no more, no less. So much for talking the talk, eh, Lorenzo?

Then in the late nineties, KAZU in Pacific Grove, a local community radio station, went bankrupt, giving its license to CSUMB, who commenced to run all NPR, too. The format wars between KAZU and KUSP, and the loss of exclusivity in NPR branding, left KUSP bankrupt and deeply in debt to NPR. In a last ditch effort to save its debt-ridden organization, the station went all “Triple A” format, fired its manager Terry Green, and brought in consultant Lee Ferraro from Minneapolis who said publicly he disliked Santa Cruz. It’s no wonder. He was hired to fire the rest of the local voices and put in a kind of bland indie “Triple -A” pop music that was supposed to attract a new, younger audience. This did not work to save KUSP financially and he soon packed up and (no doubt relieved) high-tailed it back to the mid-west.

As KUSP was heading toward bankruptcy, a group calling itself “KUSP Forward” was formed to try to persuade its board of directors to downsize and go all-volunteer as a bail out plan. Hundreds showed up to a public board meeting at Loudon Nelson Center pleading with the board to change course. Their proposal was rejected and the station went bankrupt in 2016 under a debt load of $850,000. The last broadcast was in August of that year. Many tears were shed and friendships lost over its demise, which many said was preventable. Others disagreed. Either way, it was over.

Late in the day on Christmas eve, I went down to the station where there was a bankruptcy liquidation sale underway.  A guy whose name I think was Sharky