“I majored in radio station”, by Moe Rubenzahl
What would Freud say about the meaning of this 14,000 watt protrusion? And how did such a thing come to be a roommate of the Holder gargoyles? I am told some subterfuge was involved. It is said that when the students showed the University what the proposed antenna would look like atop Holder Hall, they neglected to mention that the two drawings used a different scale. Final erection was scheduled for a holiday weekend and the real appearance was unknown to the Trustees until the last guy wire had been tightened. Perhaps you can cajole some of my predecessors into telling you the whole story.
Holder tower and its antenna were the first things I saw when I got to Princeton. My whole family drove me to school. I remember seeing the looming tower through the Buick windows. “What’s that?” my mother asked. “The Chapel? The library?”
Looking at my map, I uttered in disbelief, “That’s my dorm!”
Living in Holder sealed my fate. I told my parents I was majoring in engineering. Truth be told, I majored in Radio Station. To this day, the smell of mildew brings back memories. No doubt, my mouth was open as I carried my boxes into the Holder courtyard and heard the speakers blasting, playing live ‘PRB all freshmen week, for the students on their way to Commons. I saw the remote board, a DJ, and an engineer. I don’t remember how much I understood at the time but I do remember thinking, “I want to do THAT!”
And I did. Like hundreds before me, and hundreds after, I labored in the racks, behind the mics, over the UPI machine (in those days, a noisy monster which smelled of machine oil), swapped records, hammered and sawed and soldered and slaved. And I remember reunions, when the old ‘PRBers, beery, doddering old farts, would wander in and look around. They’d sit on the dilapidated, mismatched (but free) lobby furniture and eagerly tell old-timer stories to the new generation of long-haired students. Yes, these old gents – of 35 or 40 – they had some tales to tell. We would listen a while, perking up when we heard a name that was hanging on a plaque on the wall or scratched into the side of some home brew gear we never could get to work. Then, too bored to be polite anymore, we’d sneak away, to do our WPRB jobs, leaving the alumni, sitting in the lobby, telling lies. Which, at that point, was their WPRB job.
The antenna has been replaced. The students are different (yet, I wager, the same). Certainly the music has changed. Most of the equipment I knew is gone. But the technical, business, and social skills I learned at WPRB have stayed with me, along with the memories.
-Moe Rubenzahl, ’74 (Chief Engineer 1973; Tech Director, 1974)