“Rome wasn't burned in a night.”
- Joe/American Graffiti
Who remembers Wolfman Jack? Those of us who lived through the 70s most certainly do. We knew him, primarily, as the crazy character who hosted the groundbreaking show Midnight Special. What I had forgotten or never knew was that for much of his career, Wolfman Jack was a name and a voice only.
Wolfman was born Bob Smith back in 1938. In the early 1960s, the radio airwaves were, for the most part, still segregated. But, as a young DJ, Smith was determined to introduce the diverse music he loved to a new audience. From his job at the powerful XERF-AM station just over the border in Mexico, he had the vehicle he needed. XERF, known as the “Boarder Blaster” was unencumbered by U.S. restrictions on power output, broadcasting at 250,000 watts. That allowed its signal to reach a huge swath of America.
Smith created a shadowy wild-man alter ego he dubbed Wolfman Jack. With his throaty, raspy voice, wolf howls and interjections of black slang, he spun a mix of black R&B, jazz, rockabilly and rock and roll. He and his show became hugely popular with the restless youth of the era, but he kept his character cloaked in mystery. Who was this Wolfman Jack? Was he black or white? What did he look like?
No one knew until 1973 when George Lucas wrote him into the script as the DJ in his hit movie, American Graffiti. So that was Wolfman Jack! Around the same time, TV producer, Burt Sugarman, looking to capture the youth audience, pitched the idea of a late-night music show to immediately follow The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson on Friday nights.
From its outset, The Midnight Special was a ratings bonanza, with a regular viewership of six-million. Wolfman Jack as the announcer and often guest host became synonymous with the show.
You'd have to climb into the Wayback Machine and dial it back five decades to try and comprehend the importance of The Midnight Special on the youth of that time. Prior to it, the only way to see the popular artists and musical heroes of the era was to attend one of their shows or concerts. How often was that possible? For kids out in the hinterlands, it was as rare as a trip to Red Lobster. So, to actually get to lay eyes on many of your favorite rock gods was like Christmas every Friday night. And these were not hokey, lip-synced performances like on American Bandstand. They were recorded live, rough edges and all.
There was one dilemma, though. If you were of a certain age and social inclination during that time, what were you doing at home on a Friday at midnight? This was before VCRs or any other way to record an event. If you missed it in real time, well, too bad for you, you'd never see it again. The TV Guide had to be consulted and decisions had to be made. If Ted Nugent or Aerosmith were going to be on, you might stay in. Helen Reddy…PARTY ON!
Wolfman Jack, baby! He was part of an era that some of us were privileged to experience. If you were there, you know what I mean.
The Wolfman died in 1995 at the age of 57. He is buried, I'm not kidding, in the yard of his home in Belvidere, NC.