By Herb Kent
I have identified Herb Kent for the reason that 1958 and his autobiography is correct at the mark. He did conceal up to he may possibly in one ebook!
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This assortment assembles the simplest interviews from Steve Cushing's long-running radio application Blues prior to dawn, the nationally syndicated, award-winning software concentrating on classic blues and R&B. As either an observer and performer, Cushing has been concerned with the blues scene in Chicago for many years.
Niebisch retraces how the early Avant-Garde events began as parasites inhabiting and aggravating the rising mass media circuits of the clicking, cinema, and stressed and instant conversation and the way they aimed toward making a media ecology in response to and encouraged through applied sciences similar to the radio and the picture phone.
Extra info for The Cool Gent: The Nine Lives of Radio Legend Herb Kent
But they wouldn’t let us in; we were too young. I missed World War I in 1918, which was ten years before I was born. I think I was twelve or thirteen, in grammar school, when things started happening with World War II and Pearl Harbor, and the war continued through my high school years. What I remember most about that period is that everybody thought Hitler was just all fucked up. Everybody hated him. Black people, too. We drew pictures of him in school like he was the devil. We all followed the war from the very beginning.
He wasn’t wasting any time on sweet nothings! ” But that really hurt, so I had to find something to do. I broke up with her—didn’t have much of a choice really. ” And that’s what really brought it to a head; I had to do something. I was just going to go nuts, so I joined the radio club to take my mind off the situation. That hastened my decision for sure. 22 1928 This event happened shortly before the ROTC field trip, so maybe that’s why I liked hearing that guy’s voice and maybe that’s what drove me to join this radio club.
At fifteen, I was a frail kid: six feet, a hundred and forty pounds. ” When they asked all the other boys in gym class at Hyde Park High School to try out for the football team, they wouldn’t even talk to me. They just left me in the gym all by myself, dejected. I compensated for that by joining the ROTC, and I got to be a captain. But at night I would dream about being a football player. I loved those uniforms, and I would imagine putting on those heavy pads, grabbing my jersey with my number on it, and strapping on that glorious helmet.