How Did I Get Here? Barb Celebrates 30 Years at WBKR

Thirty Years, Somehow

Thirty years.

Thirty. Years.

I keep saying that out loud because I'm still not sure I believe it.

Today marks 30 years since I officially started at WBKR. I've been thinking a lot about what in the world I'm going to write about, and the problem is there is absolutely no way to fit 30 years of radio, stories, people, crazy adventures, technology changes, fundraisers, celebrities, tears, laughter, and everything in between into one little article. And believe me, I could go on. And on. And on.

So I decided to go back to the beginning. The funny thing is, I never really planned for this to be my life.

It started with a microphone

I caught the radio bug in 1985 when I started at my college radio station, and apparently once you catch that bug, it never really goes away. In 1986, I started my corporate management career, but radio was still hanging around, and that same year I started at Double Rock KLT out of Kalkaska, Michigan, and later Traverse City. I hosted Sunday Night Classics, and somehow, along the way, I met people like Ozzy Osbourne and Metallica.

Looking back, I probably should have stopped right there and said, "Well, Barb. You've peaked!" I had no idea. Radio would keep pulling me back in.

In 1992, I was managing a Disc Jockey record store in Michigan, which eventually brought me to the home office in Owensboro in the fall of 1994. And that move changed everything.

Moving to Owensboro from Michigan was hard. I remember the uncertainty. The nervousness. Wondering what life was going to look like here.

The audition tape nobody wanted

By 1996, I started asking around about where I should apply for a weekend radio gig. At the time, I figured I'd probably go back to rock radio. But every person I talked to said the same thing: "You need to go to WBKR." So I did.

I still remember taking my audition tape to WBKR on my lunch hour, and nobody gave me the time of day. Nobody. I went back to WaxWorks thinking, "Well, I guess that didn't work." Then I got paged within the hour. Chuck Urban, the station manager at the time, wanted to meet with me. And the rest is history.

I was brought in to train with Nick Weber, God rest his soul, and Steve Horn, and that's when I learned just how much radio was changing. Albums were going away. Cassettes were going away. Compact discs were going away. Carts were going away. Everything was becoming automated. What? I had just gotten there, and radio was already trying to change everything I knew. Somehow, I survived.

Then there was the "God Squad." Every Sunday morning, I was at the station at 6 a.m. handling the church services. Let me say this: Saturday nights and 6 a.m. Sunday mornings were not exactly best friends! There were plenty of Sundays when I was completely exhausted after being out the night before, sitting there trying desperately to keep my eyes open while working from 6 a.m. to 2 p.m. It was brutal!

I also produced my share of NASCAR races and fell completely in love with NASCAR after meeting Tony Stewart at an event in Evansville in 1999. It was his rookie year, and he was so nice. My newfound love of NASCAR eventually turned into Monday morning calls with Moon and Chad to give my NASCAR update.

And I can't talk about those early years without talking about Moon, Chad, and really everyone at the station. They treated me like I was a full-time employee long before I ever was one. That meant a lot to me. It still does.

Oh, the Executive Inn

Then there was the Executive Inn. Oh, the Executive Inn.

I was lucky enough to work at the WBKR satellite studio inside the lobby of the historic Executive Inn Rivermont in Owensboro. I worked Saturday afternoons there, and it was a dream gig. People were constantly coming through the lobby, and I interviewed people celebrating birthdays, families having events, and so many of you who wanted to say hello.

And then there were the artists. I got to interview up-and-coming artists like Little Big Town and Brad Paisley, and NASCAR great Darrell Waltrip when he came to town as Grand Marshal of the Christmas Parade. I interviewed legends like Loretta Lynn and the Beach Boys. And so many more! I also got to introduce dozens upon dozens of artists on stage when they performed that night.

Of course, like everything good, the Executive Inn eventually came to an end. It closed its doors in 2008, and another piece of Owensboro history was gone. I can still picture that little radio studio sitting right there in the lobby with fun memories.

Dream Copy Photography

I never wanted to do this full time

By then, I was doing The Barb Show (Chad named it after an unfortunate, but funny, incident in Memphis) on Saturday mornings from 9 to 2, while still maintaining my corporate career. I loved radio. I really did. But I never wanted to do it full time.

Funny how life works.

In 2015, things were changing at WaxWorks, and after more than 30 years of managing in corporate America, I knew I was ready to step away. I was turning 50. I had lost both my parents and my husband's parents within a couple of years. I had dealt with my own health challenges and a lot of other things that make you stop and look at your life a little differently.

I wanted something calmer. I wanted something that mattered. So I decided to go full-time in radio. Looking back now, it was one of the best decisions I ever made. I just didn't know it at the time.

I knew I would struggle without having something to manage, because apparently management is in my blood. Then Sally Davenport announced she was leaving Christmas Wish, and I remember thinking, "Well, there it is." It was meant to be. I took over the midday show after my dear friend Jaclyn Graves left the position, and I took on Christmas Wish. Somehow, those two things became the perfect partnership.

WBKR - Barb Birgy

Christmas Wish changed everything

Christmas Wish is one of the biggest blessings of my life. Over the years, we've helped more families than I could ever count, and every year, some stories will stay with me forever. Because Christmas Wish was never just about putting presents under a Christmas tree. Sometimes it was about giving a family something to hold onto when life had completely fallen apart. Sometimes it was a child whose parent was fighting cancer. Sometimes it was another illness. Sometimes it was grief. Sometimes it was simply a family that needed somebody to say, "We've got you." And that's what Christmas Wish became to me. So much more than Christmas. So much more than toys. So much more than gifts. It became about people.

We couldn't help thousands of children without this community. We couldn't do it without the people who donated. The people who shopped. The people who delivered. The people who quietly said, "Tell me what they need." That's Owensboro. That's this community. And I have been incredibly lucky to have a front row seat to it.

Dream Copy Photography

And then there were the really fun things

When I look back at 30 years, I realize I've somehow managed to collect a ridiculous number of stories. I've interviewed celebrities. I've talked NASCAR. I've worked parades. I've sat in the lobby of the Executive Inn. I've jumped out of an airplane. I've rappelled down a tall building. I've attended the CMA Awards shortly after 9/11. I've stood on the Grand Ole Opry stage.

And apparently, I've also broadcast live television from the top of a giant hot dog.

Yes. You read that correctly.

For years, I was the "sideline" reporter during the annual Owensboro Christmas Parade, and one year, I found myself on top of the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile. With a live microphone. On live television. And at some point, I proudly announced that I was broadcasting from the top of a weiner. I said it. Out loud. On television!

Years later, I'm still not sure whether to be embarrassed or impressed with myself. Honestly, I'm leaning toward impressed!

WBKR - Barb Birgy

The Grand Ole Opry

Of all the things I've gotten to do, announcing on the Grand Ole Opry stage is one I'll never forget. And I was scared to death. Seriously. I don't know that I've ever been more scared in my life. I remember standing there thinking, "How in the world did I get here?" But I did it. And I'm so glad I did.

I also think about being in the audience at the CMA Awards after 9/11. There was so much uncertainty and fear at the time, and I will never forget that night. But I also won't forget the feeling of being surrounded by music and people at the Grand Ole Opry and realizing how much comfort a place like that could bring.

 And then I started writing

Somewhere along the way, writing became part of the job too. From sharing events to the yard sale guide and everything in between, writing human-interest stories became my all-time favorite thing to do. Some stories were incredibly sad. But others were inspirational.

WBKR - Barb Birgy

One of those stories was a young lady named Alivia Faith. Alivia gained her angel wings on Sunday, November 27, 2022, after a courageous battle with cancer. From fundraisers to articles to personal visits, it was an honor to be by her side during those tough days. I will always cherish this photo of Alivia and me.

Stories like hers remind me why I love what I do. Because radio isn't just about talking. It's about people. It's about telling their stories and making sure those stories are heard.

WBKR - Barb Birgy

St. Jude

And then there's St. Jude. When WBKR became a St. Jude station in the early 2000s, I had no idea how much it would become part of my life. I've had the privilege of writing about and meeting patients. I've visited the hospital. I've watched our Radiothon grow year after year because of this amazing community. And just like Christmas Wish, St. Jude has shown me what happens when people come together for something bigger than themselves. I am so proud to have been part of that journey.

And when I think about what's next, I know there is one more thing I want to do. The plan is to retire after the St. Jude Radiothon in February.

WBKR - Barb Birgy

That's what I remember most

When I think about 30 years, I don't think about the number of shows I've done. I don't think about the hours I've spent behind a microphone. I don't think about how many times I've hit the wrong button, forgotten a name, stumbled over a word, or talked way too long, although there have probably been plenty.

I think about people. I think about all of you.

The people who walked into that Executive Inn studio. The people who called the radio station. The people who showed up for fundraisers. The people who trusted me with their stories. The people who opened their hearts during Christmas Wish. The people I've met at remote broadcasts, festivals, concerts, yard parties, community events, and just about everywhere else.

Some of you have been listening to me for decades. Some of you weren't even born when I started. That is a little terrifying. But mostly, it's pretty amazing.

You've allowed me into your cars, your kitchens, your offices, and your lives. You've laughed with me. You've cried with me. You've celebrated with me. You've let me celebrate with you. And somewhere along the way, this place I moved to from Michigan became home. Not just Owensboro. Not just WBKR. The people. You.

WBKR - Barb Birgy

And through those years and all the changes, there was one person who was always beside me. My husband, Chris Arnold. My biggest cheerleader. My biggest supporter. Chris has been part of this incredible journey every step of the way, and I couldn't tell this story without him.

So, what's next?

Well, that's the part I don't really know yet.

Christmas Wish is celebrating its 50th anniversary. I'm celebrating 30 years at WBKR. And sometime after the St. Jude Radiothon in February, if I stick to the plan, I'm supposed to retire.

There. I said it. Retire.

I'm not sure how I feel about that yet. I don't know if I'm completely ready to walk away from radio after more than 40 years. I don't know if I'll miss it every single day. I don't know if I'll wake up one morning and decide I absolutely have to have a microphone in front of me. I don't know.

Maybe I'll be great at retirement. Maybe I'll be terrible at it. Maybe it'll be somewhere in between. We'll see.

But I do know this. I never could have written this story. But here we are.

Thirty years. What a ride.

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And if my time on this earth ended today, I could honestly say I have been blessed. I got to do something I loved. I got to help people. I got to meet some pretty incredible people. I got to laugh a lot. I got to cry a little. I got to do some completely ridiculous things. And most importantly, I got to be part of your lives. For 30 years.

That's a gift.

So thank you. Thank you for letting me be Barb. Thank you for letting me into your lives. Thank you for welcoming that nervous girl from Michigan all those years ago. Thank you for listening. Thank you for trusting me. And thank you for making this place home.

I have no idea what the next chapter looks like. But whatever it is, I know I'll carry these 30 years with me. Every single one of them.

And I will never forget you. Not one of you!

Now. To lighten the mood with my all-time favorite video!

#blessed #thankful