Radio Station at dial
AM 1060, with a listening area spottily encompassing northwestern
North Carolina and southwestern
Virginia. Features
country music, news,
obituaries and Sunday church services with their own, in-studio minister.
This station's claim to fame is of an entirely unholy nature, however. During a certain Appalachian E2 Gathering, the station DJ on duty (let's call her Mary Lou), made the mistake of reading the obituary for one Kate Caudil Cox (pronounced Kate Cuddle Cocks) within the hearing of several noders of perverse mind and insufficient respect for the deceased. Naturally, the group latched on to the concept and proceeded to make many many jokes at her expense. In fact, the mere mention of Kate Cuddle Cocks was enough to send noders into paroxisms of laughter.
The next day after a leisurely breakfast, a couple of us decided that we absolutely must have a copy of the obituary. We visited to a gas station, a supermarket and two news stands in search of a suitable paper, but alas, the local paper only publishes once a week, and that is on Thursdays. So, despondently we headed for home.
However, on the way back, looking through the rear windshield, I saw that we had just driven past a driveway marked with a large sign. It read:
Radio 1060
WCOK
"The Hit Kicker"
"Stop!" I yelled, "There's WCOK!" Hermetic squealed his abused brakes and we backed the car up into the drive way. A digital camera was produced and several pictures were taken, of the expected sort. Then I suggested we go up to the station itself and have a look around. Perhaps they might have a copy of the obituary. I was met with some resistance, and one of our number stayed behind with the car, while the braver of us went inside.
We looked around in the slightly dim interior. We were greeted by a group of very friendly and eager radio station people. I indicated that I had never been in a radio station before (a lie) and I had wanted to stop and look around. Hermetic, in a brilliant flash of inspiration told an older gentleman that we were in the area for a family friend's funeral and that hey, perhaps maybe they would have a copy of the obituary, since we would be leaving town long before the paper was published with it (half lie).
A very nice young girl (Mary Lou) eagerly ran back to her booth and fetched it for us, scribblings, crossouts and all. She said we could just keep it. So, I asked for a tour of the station and had an earnest conversation with an alleged pastor who kept staring at my breasts, while Hermy chatted up Mary Lou.
Finally our visit came to an end and we walked back out to the car where my husband awaited us, somehow managing to contain our laughter until we were down the driveway.
Some have said that we will go to hell for our transgressions. But, somehow, I think that our dearly departed Mrs. Cox smiles down upon us from heaven, having given more joy in these couple days than, I think, in all her likely drab life.
Dedicated to Kate Caudil Cox deceased August 16, 2001.