Remembering the man with the golden voice

When I was working on the article about the life and legacy of Jim Soileau, I found myself wanting to share my own words about the man who was my first boss. What can I say that hasn’t already been said by his friends, former employees, clients, and listeners? Legend, humble, kind, hard-working, talented, gentleman ... these adjectives kept coming up with everyone I interviewed. There is nothing I can add to this list, but I can share the story about how I came to know Mr. Jim.
I remembered going to KVPI at night with my dad when I was a little kid. Dad and Mark Layne would discuss old time radio shows and oldies music, while my brother and I would explore the station. The record room and back offices and control rooms felt like a maze to me, like I was an archaeologist exploring some ancient ruins of technology: reel-to-reels, cassette tapes, microphones, recording equipment, and turn tables. In this tech temple, sleeves of 45s were plastered to the walls like remnants of long-ago-worshiped gods: Elvis Presley, Janis Joplin, Hank Williams, The Rolling Stones, Johnny Cash, Sam Cooke, and so many more, more than all the gods of Mount Olympus. This was a place of mystery and reverence, excitement and adventure.
When I was 15 and had just started my junior year of high school, I wanted to get a part-time job. I thought about waiting tables, but I am not exactly what you would call coordinated. I had a severe phobia that I would spill a plate of food on someone. Also, I was quite the introvert (still am). My friend, Marty Mayeaux, was a couple of years older than I was, and he had graduated from high school and moved on to college. He had worked at KVPI while he was in high school, and he loved his job. I decided to give it a shot.
I told my dad I wanted to apply at the station. He loved the idea, and so did my mom and grandparents, W.R. and Ella Knighten. My grandparents knew everyone in town. I asked them not to help me get the job, because I wanted to do it on my own. The day I went to apply, I thought about wearing an outfit that was more business-like, but decided to look more like a DJ. I wore some green jeans and a Weezer T-shirt. I knew the station played oldies, and I was pretty sure Mr. Jim wouldn’t know the band Weezer, but it made me feel more rock-n-roll, like a DJ should be.
Mr. Jim introduced himself and we talked for a bit. Next was the audition. He took me to the production room and sat me in front of the microphone. He gave me a news article to read from the Associated Press. Back then, we didn’t have computers, so the AP news came via teletype. He loaded a cart, which is what was used to record commercials, etc. and looked a bit like an 8-track, and showed me which buttons to press when I was ready to record. He left the room, and I recorded my very first news.
I sat, shaking my leg in anticipation, as Mr. Jim listened to my recording while reading along with the article. He was impressed that I had caught a mistake in one sentence and read it the way it was supposed to be said without missing a beat. That was it. He hired me, and that set forth 18 years in broadcasting.
Three years after he hired me, my grandmother Ella passed away. Mr. Jim came to the funeral visitation. I wasn’t there at that moment, but he told my mother he had been keeping a secret for the last three years. After he hired me, Ella had called him at the radio station. She told him, “Jim, this is Ella. I’m not walking too well, but I’ll be in your parking lot in five minutes. Come out and meet me.” He did, and she gave him a rum cake, which was her specialty. She told him, “Nancy made me promise not to help her get this job. Now that she has it, I wanted to say thank you for hiring her. This is the best thing you could have done for her.” She made him promise not to tell me. He kept that promise until her funeral.
Though I had only worked for Mr. Jim for six years, he taught me professionalism, punctuality, courtesy, humbleness, kindness, and how to project my voice, but most importantly, he taught me to take chances on people, even if they go to a job interview with colorful jeans and a rock-n-roll T-shirt.