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A burly frame houses the familiar deep voice and belly
chuckle that gets area residents up and moving each
morning. Eyes that shine with mischief find humor
everywhere they look. Bantering on the air with sidekick
Jeff Jeffries, he reminds us that everyday life doesn’t
have to be such a serious thing. Tuesday, QBE’s
morning show king marks his 54th birthday. “I
grew up in Raleigh County. The first four years, we
lived in a place that doesn’t exist anymore called
Packsville, about four miles from Whitesville. When I
was 4, we moved to Sophia. The high school I went to
doesn’t exist anymore. The elementary school I went to
doesn’t exist anymore. My dad was a mechanic for a
Chevrolet dealership in Sophia that doesn’t exist
anymore. My life is full of it’s-not-there-anymores.
“I had no idea what I was going to be. You should have a
plan in high school. I had no plan. When I was in the
10th grade, a friend, Ray Catlett, did a little
community affairs show on WWNR in Beckley. The show was
for the vocational school and their VICA Club. I went
with Ray maybe two times to record the show. In the
summer of 1967, Ray called in the middle of the night
and said he was moving and I had to take over the show.
He couldn’t find anyone else to do it. “All I
knew was what I had seen him do twice. It was a
half-hour show. You were supposed to have information
about the VICA Club and what was going on at the school.
But it was summer, and I didn’t go to vocational school,
and I had no idea what they did. So I just played
records and said I was there for the VICA Club. I didn’t
know what I was doing. It would take a minimum of four
to six hours to record this thing, take after take after
take. “But I decided radio was pretty cool, and I
should go to vocational school if I intended to keep it
up. They had a broadcasting class. Dick Calloway, who
worked at WWNR, was the teacher. He would tell me to
just be myself instead of trying to be a disc jockey. I
was doing the fast-talking, screaming, everything-rhymes
kind of stuff. Years later, it occurred to me that Dick
Calloway was right. I wasn’t getting anywhere because I
wasn’t being a real person. “Vocational school was
a two-pronged thing. There was an electronics part. A
lot of entry-level jobs were at night, and you had to do
these transmitter readings that you could only do with a
certain license. I got real disenchanted with the
electronics course. I wasn’t good at it for a lot of
reasons, not the least of which is that I’m color-blind
and we had all this color-coded stuff that I was totally
lost about.
“After I graduated, I worked briefly in Pineville at
WWYO. I thought I was something, actually getting paid.
I made $1.10 an hour. I found out about the Elkins
Institute of Broadcasting, another thing that doesn’t
exist anymore. This school in New Orleans would prepare
you to pass the license test. My parents spent all this
money to send me to that school, and all I really
learned was how to splice tape.
“But I did get the license, which was really amazing,
because I was 18, and you could go to the clubs when you
were 18. I had the whole New Orleans experience, and
coming from Raleigh County, it pretty much overwhelmed
me. I don’t know how I made it through school.
“I worked at WJLS in Beckley about two years, then
went to WWNR. I don’t think it exists anymore.
“When you’re young in the radio business, you live
for advancing. I sent out tapes all the time and got a
job at WKAZ, the Top 40 powerhouse in Charleston. I
probably sent 50 tapes to WAYS in Charlotte, which also
doesn’t exist anymore. The program director sent me
encouraging letters. The program director at WMAK in
Nashville asked him if he knew anybody looking for a
job, and they hired me. I thought Nashville was just
country, and I wasn’t thrilled about going. In seven
years in Nashville, I never played the first country
song.
“We did some crazy stuff at WLAC. We had a contest to
go see Pink Floyd in concert. To win, you had to send in
the most bizarre pink thing you could find. We got
animal hearts and all kinds of crazy stuff. The woman
who won came in wearing a pink body suit and riding a
pink horse.
“When that station sold, they got rid of everybody.
Bristol Broadcasting offered me a job on QBE. Living in
Nashville, I had developed a taste for country. I
thought I’d come back for a year or so. That was 1981.
“Until 1977, I did nights. Now I come on mornings, 6
until 10. I’m not a morning person. I’d like to stay up
until 4 in the morning and go to work at 4 in the
afternoon. For years when I did this show, lots of times
I would crawl into the station and still be half shot
when I went on the air. I can’t do that anymore. I have
to get a full night’s sleep.
“I’ve been through about eight different partners,
including Randy Johnson, the funniest radio man in
Charleston. Jeff Jeffries is my partner now. He keeps me
I check. It’s good chemistry.
“When that shopping center opened in Teays Valley,
they told me I was going to throw out cash from an
airplane. They didn’t tell me it was an ultralight. All
they’re made of is aluminum tubing, fabric wings, a
Volkswagen engine and a big propeller. Mine was an
experimental two-seater model. I was absolutely
terrified. The pilot yelled at me to lean way out when I
threw the money or it would get caught in the prop and
we would go down. Now that scared me to death. I just
threw out the whole sack.
“When we got back to the strip, two actual
ultralights landed first. The first one crashed into a
tree. The guy wasn’t hurt but the plane was destroyed. I
saw this before I came in. When I got back to the
station, I told them never to mention me and an airplane
in the same sentence
“When I first got into radio, we had 45 rpm records
and 33 rpm albums with turntables. The times of the
records were written on the labels and were notoriously
wrong. If you timed into the news using three songs and
that block worked, you had a real sense of
accomplishment because it wasn’t all mapped out for you
by computers.
“My parents wanted to send me to law school. I don’t
think I would have been a very good lawyer. If it hadn’t
been for Ray Catlett asking me to take over that radio
show, I don’t know what I would have done. If you’re
reading this, Ray, I owe you an ass-kicking.
“But I’ve had a big time. I’ve met all kinds of
stars. I got to go to Hawaii because of this job. And
our station does so many things for the community. I
think, what have I ever done for people? But if anyone
laughs on the way to work, or got to work safe and on
time because of Bob Hamilton’s traffic report, any
little thing like that means a great deal to me.
“My youngest son was trying to explain to my daughter
what I do. Tyler said, ‘He plays some records, talks
about the weather, gives stuff away and plays some more
records.’ He pretty much summed it all up.
“This is not a job for someone who wants a stable
family life. I gave up on that a long time ago. My
marriages? Let’s say I’ve been married more than four
times but less than the 12 that Jeff always says. I’ve
got four children. Radio pays OK, but not if you’re
divorced and paying child support. So I got this extra
job selling sporting goods at Wal-Mart. When people come
by and talk to me, they expect me to be like I am on
radio. I’m always mystified by what they want me to
say.”
Geared up for his sunrise shift in the hilltop studios
of WQBE, popular radio personality Al Woody gets
Charleston ready for the day as co-host of the “Morning
Air Show,” his broadcasting assignment since 1983.
"I thought I was something, actually getting paid,” Al
Woody says. “I made $1.10 an hour.”
“I wasn’t getting anywhere because I wasn’t being a real
person.”
“In seven years in Nashville, I never played the first
country song.”
Working at WKAZ-AM in 1973, Al Woody (second from right)
was part of a broadcasting team that included (from
left) Rick Robinson, Eric Mason, Al Sahley, Frank George
and Charlie Cooper (center).
At 9 years old, future radio star Al Woody had no idea
what he wanted to be when he grew up.
This publicity photo of Woody was taken in 1975 during
his seven-year stint as a Nashville DJ.
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