When I set out to write The Radio Murders, I held radio in contempt. I’ll admit it. I had spent nearly 30 years learning, practicing really, a craft that had changed tremendously. At the time I felt it was not a change for the better.
I had not spent a lot of time with talk radio, but following September 11, 2001 the format and the people who performed it changed dramatically. There were many of the same names, many of the same stations, but the shows created a new kind of room. They took sides, in the words of George W. Bush, you were with them or against them.
In Cleveland radio there was a man named Gary Dee. He may have been one of a kind. He was outrageous by design. He know all the triggers, all the buttons to push to get a city with a terminal inferiority complex to stand up and scream, mostly at Dee’s antics.
Fast forward to the era of Rush and Howard; one-named superstars who, like Gary Dee, found a way to rise above the noise only they became national institutions. Behind these men were hundreds, maybe thousands of imitators. Some worked hard to provide serious or seriously funny content. Most took the easy way out and stacked stupid stunts on top of dumber dialogue. In many ways the first electronic medium hit a new low.
It wasn’t much of a reach to imagine a man like Crash Kradich letting the flow of time and events to bring him to the point of airing murder on a regular basis. The trick was to do it while staying out of court, jail or the morgue. That’s where the story gets interesting.









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We are all storytellers in one way or another. But what makes this storyteller think this tale is worth your time?
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