WIBG – Philadelphia – Bill Wright – September 9, 1960 – Gordon Skene Sound Collection –
Your parents came up with the brilliant idea to pack you off to spend the Summer with relatives in Philadelphia. They had suspicions you were “heading in the wrong direction” with your pals in L.A. and you needed to be someplace other than Santa Monica Beach since you were heading in the direction of 8th grade and your mom already found the stack of Playboys under your bed and the crushed up pack of Viceroys in one of your shoes. They had visions of phone calls at three in the morning from Precinct captains saying you were involved in an armed robbery and to fish you out of Juvenile Hall. You needed some healthy examples of what being a thirteen year old was supposed to be about. At least in their eyes.
So three months in Philadelphia with your cousins who were known to your folks as models for Wholesome American Youth would fix you up for school in the Fall and keep you out of trouble between June and September. That was the plan.
So loaded down with enough luggage for a five year stay in the Himalayas you were dropped off at Union Station and ushered on to the nearest Super Chief to make the trek east. Too cheap to get you a plane ticket and too paranoid to have you go Greyhound, you were deemed not to get in any trouble on a moving train. Your dad splurged on an Instamatic with the proviso you would take lots of pictures and have a permanent record of this epic event growing up.
First thing you notice when you get off the train in Philadelphia; it’s a little over 300 degrees with 200 percent humidity in the station. You sweat through everything you’ve owned in less than five minutes and feel like a rancid sponge as you trek across the platform to the arrival area and the crowd of people waiting for people who looked just as soaked as you were.
You never met your cousins before – you only heard about them. You have three: The guys are older than you and busy with Football. The girl is your age and lets out a shriek when she sees you. She brought her friends – they giggle – they stare – they giggle at each other. They heard you were from Hollywood. You have a fan club.
Where your parents got the impression your cousins were the models of Wholesome American Youth you can only imagine. In the three months you spent in Philadelphia you perfected the fine art of French Inhaling, French kissing, leaving Hickeys and Second base. The guys decided you were okay and introduced you to Blatz and Certs.
When September rolled around you were saying Fuck a lot and working on what looked like a beard. When it came time to get back on the train and head to L.A. you didn’t want to. You were romantically involved with two of your cousin’s three friends with one of them promising “next year; third base!” and an armload of photos, most of which your parents will never see.
You decided you are going to remember this Summer for the rest of your life. You’ll also have to explain why you have a hickey on your neck the size of Cleveland.
Three days before you’re back in L.A. – you’ll think of something.
And as a reminder, here is 45 minutes worth of WIBG, Philadelphia as it sounded on September 9, 1960.
