“You’re Listening to 50,000 Watts of Goodwill, WDIA Memphis”
When Nat D. Williams took to the airwaves as WDIA’s first Black disc jockey in 1948, the Black community not only tuned in but celebrated an incredible milestone. With Memphis as its epicenter, the radio program—the entire station shortly thereafter—Black people would call it their own. Very few radio stations in the 1940s and 1950s allowed Black artists airtime and certainly the South was a hostile place to showcase Black excellence and empowerment. However, radio advertisers were ambitious to attract the audience WDIA had acquired.
With such a large platform, Williams had quite the task creating terminology to avoid demeaning the community he was representing. Both Black and African-American were considered unpopular terms, yet Negro was widely designated. Instead, Williams labeled his show Tan Town Jamboree. Other shows would follow as he chipped away: Sepia Swing Club, Brown America Speaks, and Coffee Club.
“If it all sounds awkward and a bit silly today, bear in mind that Black-oriented programming was still a relatively new business in 1948, especially in the Mid-South,” wrote Louis Cantor, who was one of the few white announcers at WDIA. Cantor, author of the book Wheelin’ on Beale, passed away at the age of 84 in 2019. Cantor added, “WDIA’s managerial staff was still moving cautiously, improvising each new show it created.” The white owners who initially adhered to country, western, and light pop programming began to see the returns in targeted programming and as the only radio station serving the Black community in Memphis.
“If it all sounds awkward and a bit silly today, bear in mind that Black-oriented programming was still a relatively new business in 1948, especially in the Mid-South,” wrote Louis Cantor, who was one of the few white announcers at WDIA. Cantor, author of the book Wheelin’ on Beale, passed away at the age of 84 in 2019. Cantor added, “WDIA’s managerial staff was still moving cautiously, improvising each new show it created.”
WDIA caught the attention of Memphis residents Elvis Presley and Isaac Hayes, and became the number one station in Memphis when it switched over to all-Black programming. In 1954, "The Mother Station of Negroes" increased its power to 50,000 watts allowing the signal to reach dense African American populations in the Missouri Bootheel, the Mississippi Delta, and the Gulf Coast areas, claiming to reach ten percent of the African-American population in the United States.
“WDIA played an important role in the lives of many Blacks, and not just those who lived within reach of its airwaves.”
- B.B. King
“WDIA played an important role in the lives of many Blacks, and not just those who lived within reach of its airwaves,” famed Blues musician B.B. King wrote in the foreword for the book, Wheelin’ on Beale by Louis Cantor. King was also a disc jockey at WDIA. “The station ignited a spark that spread from Memphis and the mid-South to the entire country and made whites and Blacks everywhere aware of the positive contributions of Black people. During the late 1940s and throughout the 1950s, this was especially important because WDIA presented one of the very few opportunities in the South for African-Americans to showcase their talent.”
Dubbed the “Goodwill Station,” hosts often greeted listeners with “You’re Listening to 50,000 Watts of Goodwill, W-D-I-A Memphis.” WDIA demonstrated goodwill since the station’s start and became part of the station’s identification. From announcing church events, baseball games, to missing false teeth, WDIA also created social change large and small within Memphis. Even in the middle of Jim Crow country, WDIA was a beacon for Soul and civil rights matters as it represented identity and progress.
“I remember when the Black ambulances could not haul white people,” recalled Reverend Dwight “Gatemouth” Moore, a gospel disc jockey at WDIA. “They had a white company, I’ll never forget, call Thompson’s. I was on my way to the station, and when I come around the curve, there was the ambulance from S.W. Qualls with the door open, and there was a white lady laying in the ditch, bleeding. And they were waiting for Thompson’s to come and pick her up. Qualls couldn’t pick her up. I guess I waited 30 or 40 minutes and still no ambulance. They tell me that the lady died. So I came to WDIA and told the tale. I said, ‘Look here.’ I said, ‘Black folks put their hands in your flour and make your bread, they cook the meat, they clean up your house, and here’s this fine aristocratic white lady laying in the ditch bleeding and they won’t let Black hands pick her up and rush her to the hospital.’ And the next week, they changed the law where a Black ambulance could pick up anybody, I got that changed on WDIA.”
In addition to community relations, musical training and education were also part of WDIA’s goodwill mission. The WDIA Teen Town Singers became an integral part of Black Memphis community and its youth. Not only was music at its core, teenagers were taught discipline, respect, and sang backup at WDIA’s annual Goodwill and Starlight charity revue programs. Each Saturday morning, the Teen Town Singers presented a live half-hour program that included blues, jazz, gospel, and pop.
When B.B. King left WDIA to tour, Williams brought in Rufus Thomas to deejay in his place. With his new post at the station, came pressure from his nine-year-old daughter. Carla Thomas listened to WDIA every day and became obsessed with the Teen-Towners to the point she insisted she join ranks. Her father replied pointing out the high school age requirement, “You’re too young. You can’t be in there.”
Rufus Thomas. Illustration by J.D. Humphreys
Carla visited WDIA with her father one day in 1952 and was caught up in the aura of station’s operations. During her visit, she ran into a frantic producer who was short one singer for the Teen Town Talent Time. Despite not being exactly confident in her own singing ability, Carla could not pass up the opportunity and followed the producer into the studio. Her father, tending to his own show, was unaware of what was happening. “I went in, and they had a little riser she [the producer] found and stood me on it,” recalled Carla Thomas. “And they had the little mic come down right in front of me. That’s how I won, because it picked up my voice. People called and said, ‘Who is that little girl? We wanna vote for her.’ I kid you not!”
“People called and said, ‘Who is that little girl? We wanna vote for her.’ I kid you not!”
- Carla Thomas on becoming a WDIA Teen Town Singer
She proved her point and her place. Rufus had no choice but to bend the rules for Carla’s place in the Teen Town Singers. Besides, she promised to keep up her grades, attend rehearsals Wednesdays and Fridays after school, and perform for the station on Saturdays. Nurtured and mentored through WDIA, many of the Teen Town Singers would go on to make names for themselves professionally and even earn scholarships for college. For Carla, being a Teen Town Singer up until the end of her senior year was the pathway to an illustrious career as a recording superstar. With notable hits “Gee Whiz (Look at His Eyes)”, “B-A-B-Y,” and “Tramp,” later in the 1960s, she would become known as the Queen of Memphis Soul. Stax Records, another Memphis staple, gained national exposure and label recognition in its early days with her work.
Carla Thomas in the 1960s. Illustration by J.D. Humphreys
As WDIA took to the airwaves, almost all professional singing groups were segregated with many young artists relying on their immediate social circles and school connections to harmonize amongst friends and acquaintances. Cliques transformed into singing groups after school and street corners became makeshift a capella stages in Black neighborhoods throughout the United States.
“We used to battle each other, walk down the street to the corner and battle each other with harmonies and singing.”
- Delores “La La” Brooks of the Crystals
Out of reach of WDIA’s airwaves in Brooklyn, Delores “LaLa” Brooks harmonized outdoors with her friends. “I was one of the stoop girls,” she said. “We used to battle each other, walk down the street to the corner and battle each other with harmonies and singing. Singing in church, I always had a platform on the stoop.” Even at age seven, she was part of her siblings’ gospel group, Little Gospel Tears.
“That was the coolest thing for guys and girls,” she recalled. “We’d put our hands on each other’s shoulders and each one would have a turn singing. That was six o’clock in Brooklyn—walking up the street, ready for battle.” Serious groups aced talent shows, rehearsed regularly after school and on weekends, sang at sock hops or community events, and sought auditions from record companies whenever the opportunity arose. For Brooks, she would leave the stoop at age 15 and join the Crystals to replace a member of the girl group.