AMJOCK.COM Confessions of Brian Pierce, a morning radio disc jockey.

After leaving Springfield the first good friend I made was Dave Mendez.  We worked together at WOAI San Antonio.  In a market over 50% Hispanic - I assumed Dave was.  He always said, "I’m from Cleveland."  Dave had the lowest voice of any person I’d met up to then.  He was on a bunch of commercials. I moved into the same condo complex Dave did, so our front doors were just about 75 yards apart.  When I left for San Antonio, I had no car.  Well, I had one, but I drove a U-Haul to Texas, planning on picking up a car in Texas.  I often walked the 2 miles to work.  This was a treat in San Antonio August heat.  Dave took pity often driving me around.  I remember waking him up one time because I wanted to go to the grocery store.  Dave got up and drove me.  We didn’t work together long - just about 4 months.  The station changed format and Dave was fired.  Dave moved on to program in Houston.  I last saw Dave in 1987 in San Antonio.  I had moved back again and Dave bought my Cadillac Eldorado.  That was the last time I saw Dave Mendez.  You’ll know Dave if you see him.  He looks like Gino Vanelli, and there are probably women hanging around.  Tell Dave, Brian is looking for him. If he needs a ride, I’d drive him anywhere.

Mom Glass was a lady in her early 70’s. Her husband had died - and her children were of course, grown.  Mom Glass, she wanted to be called Mom, adopted 3 or 4 of us on air at KLLS.  She called, and we talked to her.  She visited the station, and we invited her into the control room.  She cooked for us - and we ate it.  This is the odd part.  As a rule, when you do what I do - you do not eat listener food (you never know.)  "Mom" seemed harmless - and she was - she just liked to "cook for her boys."  It wasn’t unusual for me to go on air at 2pm - met with a plate of hot pork chops, mashed potatos & corn.  She would carefully wrap everything to keep it warm.  My own mother at the time was 1200 miles away - and Mom Glass was more "Grandmotherly" to me - but I came to love this adorable woman.  I imagined her own kids too busy to take the time to talk with her.  I imagined this woman eating alone, for what might have been years - and somehow she latches onto this radio station.  I don’t think she listened much, I never cared.  We were giving this woman purpose, and that was reward in itself.  Mom Glass must have died - she’d be just about 100 now.  Just know - Mom Glass - that "your boys" - still think of you.

"Wierd Marvin" was a listener of mine in San Antonio at KLLS.  We aired calls from listeners often, and Marvin liked being on the radio.  Marvin had a home-spun sense of humor and spoke with a south Texas drawl.  He became a fixture on not only my show, but many of the other shows.  Marvin is the guy that put me onto "Texas-isms" like when it rains hard - it’s a "Texas turd floater" - or when it’s 110 degrees, it’ll "Take the starch out of your diapers."  More than once Marvin invited me to his home for barbecue.   I don’t do this often, but in Marvins case I made an exception.  It was there I discovered why he was called "Wierd Marvin." Once after dinner he wanted to show me his picture book of nude photos of his wife.  Marvin fancied himself a photographer.  I wouldn’t call them tasteless, he tried to make them artistic.  Yes, it was odd - especially when he offered to snap pictures of my wife.  We declined, and moved away before he could invite us over again.  As if that’s not enough reason to remember Wierd Marvin, shortly before I left San Antonio, he entered one of our station contests and won a new Camaro.  He was thrilled.  This is when I learned that if you want to make a listener for life, give them a car.  I only wish I had more cars to give away.  All the best to you Marvin, where-ever you are.