The Night The Lights Went Out: Radio Supplies The Energy

4:12pm, Thursday, Aug.14, 2003:

As we fight our way through another workday, we're dealt a T.K.O…….lights out. My computer, normally a powerhouse in an increasingly mechanical world, sheepishly shrugs and offers an impotent “no comment”. I turn to my television which offers nothing more than a blank stare. All around us, everything that is supposed to be hot is getting cold and everything frozen is thawing. Elevators, as if stuck in purgatory, refuse to go up or down. Stoplights have gone colour blind and motorists, timidly creeping along, are left wondering which way to turn. How do we make sense of all of this? The next newspaper is a couple of days away. Then I turn on my car radio and everything starts to come into perspective. Radio is delivering some serious energy.

Yes, the blackout, while causing countless problems, somehow reminded me of how special radio can be. How, with its immediacy and local character, the medium plays a unique role in our lives. This doesn't, in any way, denigrate the vital daily contribution of television, print and the internet. It's just that when I turned to those familiar radio stations I felt connected and in touch. Caller after caller offered updates and moment to moment anecdotes. Rather than seeming like some grand synopsis of the situation, it all seemed very personal. I felt like I could call in at any time and join the conversation. It was real drama with no artificiality. This was a group of neighbours setting aside pretensions and speaking openly with one another. The sense of community spirit was palpable.

Station after station turned on a dime and adapted their programming immediately to deal with the crisis. While a few were knocked for a loop with transmission problems, many made the switchover almost seamlessly. In particular, the talk stations came through. In Toronto, MojoAM640 (loved that Jimmy Cauchon), the CBC, and CFRB were on top of the situation. After a hiccup due to the loss of power, 680News was simulcast on sister stations CHFI-FM and the FAN590. Each delivered the breaking news in their own unique way.

As darkness fell, I was huddled around the radio with my children. This was something a bit different for them, being charter members of the cable TV/Playstation 2 generation. But there we were, hanging off of every word. How many people were stuck in elevators? Was all of this caused by terrorism, lightning, or some sort of a technical glitch? How long will it last? What stores are open? Where can we get gas? Is there chaos on the roads without any traffic lights? Callers answered all of these questions and more in no nonsense terms.

We heard about the frustrated young lady who happened to be in the middle of her first driving lesson when the chaos broke. We heard about good Samaritans taking it upon themselves to direct traffic while others handed out bottled water to passers-by. Another saw something disturbing in the sky, only to realize that, without any neon lights, she could actually see the Milky Way. Cut-ins from the deputy mayor and the police chief. And all the while, hosts directing the conversation with both a sense of drama and of humour.

I am often asked why local content seems to be so critical to radio. For the average listener, the local weather, traffic, news, humour and personalities mixed in their favourite type of music provide company and a connection to the community. Delivered with immediacy, these elements combine to make the medium unique. Something listeners can personally identify with. Many wear their favourite stations as a badge of honour or identification. Moreover, take all of those local elements away and you could make do with your own CD collection. That is a challenge that national satellite stations or international web stations have to face. In fact, BBMM analysis has time and again shown that given two similar music formats, listeners will almost always choose the inmarket stations over that of a spill station.

I can reflect positively on the recent situation because the tragedies were few and far between. People, for the most part, behaved admirably under trying circumstances. I am still surprised by that. But most of all I was reminded that radio has the power to deliver some serious energy.



(Published in "Broadcaster Magazine")