My Favorite Teacher

A week or so ago, I wrote about why I had gone into broadcasting. I mentioned that it was because of NBC Radio’s incredible weekend-long “Monitor” program — which I fell in love with and never got over — and because of KNBR Radio in San Francisco, the great-sounding NBC owned-and-operated station that boomed its way into Fresno.

But there was a third reason I went into broadcasting — and it was a giant one. It was because of a teacher I met at Fresno State. 

Bill Monson taught broadcasting and electronic journalism at the university, and on the side, he hosted a weekly talk show on KYNO Radio. Almost all his students hated him. He was arrogant. He was opinionated. He was a tough task-master in the classroom, and it was hard – oh, so hard – to get an “A” out of him. In fact, no one ever “got” an “A” out of him – they had to work their rears off to earn it.

I encountered Bill early in my academic life at the university.  My parents had wanted me to attend UC Berkeley and get a law degree. Sorry. I wasn’t interested. I knew exactly what I wanted to do — go to Fresno State and get a bachelors degree in geography. Then I’d get a job just like Mr. Bicknell’s. He was my Hamilton Junior High geography teacher. He made geography fun (yes, I know it sounds impossible – you’ll just have to take my word for it).

Back then – we’re talking late ’60’s – Fresno State had something called “general education” requirements. That meant you had to take about 30 units in a variety of fields in addition to (and mostly before) you got into your “major” area of study. And one of those general education offerings was a speech class. No, Bill did not teach speech. But that class happened to be in the same building – in the same hallway – as KFSR, the campus radio station.

I had to walk by KFSR every day on my way to that speech class. And the station intrigued me because, remember, I was in love with both “Monitor” and KNBR Radio. So one fateful day, I decided to – what the heck? – see if I could become a DJ on KFSR. After all, they needed volunteers for all those board shifts, and I’d listened to radio much of my life – what could go wrong?

I volunteered and soon afterward had my first air shift – 4 to 6 p.m. Thursdays. We played MOR – middle-of-the- road – music. We had to run our own control boards and try to sound “good.” And I was scared to death. That first day on the air, my hands shook as I opened the mic and made my first, ever, over-the-air announcement. I think I said something witty like, “You’re on the go – with Dennis Hart!” Horrible.

But after that first shift – when my shirt was dripping with sweat – and maybe my underwear was, as well – I came away thinking, “Hot damn! I kind of liked that!” So I took the “next step” – taking a beginning broadcasting class – the history of broadcasting. And hot damn, I liked that, too! So I took the NEXT step – I enrolled in Bill Monson’s audio production class. And, brother, it was not easy. Monson had us do increasingly more difficult audio productions – starting with simple 30-second commercials and – at semester’s end – an actual scripted “program” that required a director, an engineer, and a live announcer, all positioned in the Main Radio studio. Our fellow students would listen, down below, in the classroom that “looked up” to the control room.

And, if I say so myself, I produced one heckuva show. It was a take-off on Clement Clarke Moore’s “Night Before Christmas,” and it featured recorded music, live and recorded sound effects, and all of Monson’s other requirements. We had rehearsed over and over, and my crew and I were on top of our games that morning. But Monson thought he’d “caught” us at the end – when my show apparently ended three seconds “short.” Bill had his stopwatch in the air, ready to snap it off with the “I’ve gotcha!” movement he was known for – until I ended that show with the NBC Chimes! Yep, the same chimes I’d heard for years on weekend “Monitor.” Those chimes took three seconds – and allowed me to end My Great Production exactly on time!

And immediately after that class, Monson called me into his office and said something no one else had ever said: “You could make it in broadcasting.” I was electrified. What Bill did that day was send me on the way to a 40-year career in radio and TV. And he did more than that. He became my college mentor.  He offered me a job as phone screener for his KYNO talk show, and when he started taking Sunday nights (and even an entire summer) off, I became his substitute host. I was 20 years old.

For whatever reason, Bill thought I had some kind of future in “the biz.” He never wavered in his encouragement and his prodding. We became friends, and after I graduated, that friendship just kept growing. By the time Sharon and I got married, Bill and Polly Monson had become our closest friends. And they remained that over the decades — dear friends and confidants — the best anyone could ever have.  When we started moving around the country, we kept in contact by writing letters — two, three a month — back and forth.  I still have many of the letters Bill sent.  They are witty and personal, and still read well today — decades later.

Bill and Polly came to visit us in many of the places we moved — though not Buffalo or Detroit.  Good call on their part.  But when we lived in Phoenix, they came to attend a couple of New Year’s Day Fiesta Bowl games with us.  It rained so hard during one of those games that we all wore black plastic garbage bags to keep ourselves dry.  

When we moved to the Bay Area, they would drive up from Fresno and go with us to numerous Oakland A’s baseball games.

When we came down to Fresno to visit, Sharon and I often would play golf with Bill and Polly.

And when our kids were born and we moved back to Fresno to raise them, all four of us Harts became regulars at Bill and Polly’s house on Santa Ana Avenue.

So you see, that “Night Before Christmas” production in Bill’s audio class turned into a life-long career for me — and equally important — if not more so — it turned into a friendship that endured until Bill passed away 15 years ago and Polly passed away in 2020. 

And now you know why I went into broadcasting.  “Monitor.”  KNBR.  And Bill Monson.  I was one lucky guy to have that threesome in my life.