The best radio story I never told.

I love radio. Have since the 30-45 minute morning and afternoon commutes as a kid in Minnesota. I was lucky. I caught the tail end of the golden age of Twin Cities radio. In the morning it was Boone and Erickson on WCCO. News, traffic, weather on the 8s. Keeping us updated and ready for the day. In the afternoon it was Steve Cannon and the theater of the mind. It took me years to realize that it was one man doing voices, creating a full room of people. It was amazing. I had no idea until I was in college.

My work life has had many twists, turns and down right potholes. One happy circumstance brought me to radio, which led me to Boston, which I then rediscovered in Kentucky and still am a tiny part of to this day. People always ask about my crazy radio stories. Probably because they think of Howard Stern or WKRP (ironically, one of my former owners claimed to be the inspiration for the show with one of the producers). I have crazy fun stories. This is something different.

When I was in Kentucky, I was on a morning show and we would do these live remotes. It was a smaller metro area so there wasn't really a huge audience for our live remotes. That summer I noticed that we had this one kid who kept showing up at every remote. All around town. Miles apart and he always rode his bike. It looked like he had all his belongings on the bike.

We got to talking and he told me he was a season worker who's work ended and he decided to stay in town. He was living with some homeless guys under a bridge down by the river and he had a wind up radio that he would listen to our show with. He loved it. I also noticed that he would never take the free pizza or sandwiches/pop etc that we provided as promotional stuff at the live events. He didn't want to seem like he was just taking advantage of the freebies.

After the third time he showed up, at an lab that was 15 miles from the river area that he lived in. I offered him and his bike a ride back after we were done. His name was Derek. He was 19. From Louisiana. Scared to go back home. But he didn't have anywhere to go. He knew that he'd have to do something soon because the police had started to bug the camp he and the others had set up.

I forced him to take the left over pizza from the live broadcast and a case of soda as well. We sat by the river and talked about family for almost an hour. It was a rough time in my life. I had issues with my family. With my parents. With my estranged wife. With my role as a father. Talking with Derek helped. We helped each other. I told him fears and things I hadn't told anyone else. He told me his. It was something. Maybe not friendship. But it was honest.

For the next six weeks he biked to every live broadcast. Once the owner of the jewelry store demanded he leave because he didn't look like the type of clientele for a jewelry store. He really didn't want the charity.When he would let me, I'd give him any left overs we had - food, soda etc. A couple of times he completely refused.  I offered him money for a bus ticket home but he wouldn't take it. I thought I might have offended him because I didn't see him for a while.

In late august at the last big event of the summer, where we were giving away a truck, he stopped by. To apologize. He'd sold his bike and wind up radio to some other guys and had saved enough money from odd jobs that he had his bus ticket and going home. He felt bad that he hadn't been listening anymore. He was a great kid. I gave him my # but I never heard from him. I hope he made it home.

Not the normal DJ story I suppose. I have those. Crazy college kids. Kangaroos. Radio station rivalry bar fights. But my best one is Derek.