Note: "Jovonn was an aspiring radio personality who attended Howard University. He grew up listening to a station in the D.C. area and learned as a youth he wanted to be THAT personality, and so he worked towards the goal, years later earning an internship that would catapult his dream. He'd also "have a time" with the station manager, the one who tried in the beginning for one reason or another to dissuade Jovonn about working for that particular station."
I just wanted to work in radio.
I learned at the age of 11, while listening to a station, knocking my head back and forth to acts like Missy Elliott, Nelly or Eminem, that I wanted to play records over the radio, have people call in and talk shit, and of course, be in competition with other stations across the land. I went through high school grinding to get accepted to colleges that majored in mass communications and I got into Howard, and in my junior year, managed to get an internship at one of D.C.'s top hip hop stations.
"Vonn, could you see yourself spinning country western, or jazz records, if somehow rap and R&B doesn't pan out," Alvin asked, as he was the station manager and one whom I had to do an exit interview with once the program was over after six months. "In this game, the many sacrifices you have to make determine the level of success you embark on, and sometimes, it's not always about getting what you want."
Alvin, a Howard graduate himself, was one I thought to follow, as he helped bring that station into national prominence with his skills on wax, then in the managerial side of things once he was promoted to be the overall leader. He himself still did side hustles working celebrity parties up and down the east coast, but he was station business first as he led by example every day being consistent in everything from coming to work, how he dressed, and most important, how he talked as he never retracted his words, right or wrong. I respected him enough to take what he asked with a grain of salt, since I figured he'd been in the game for almost 20 years and knew what he was talking about.
"There's some of the greatest radiomen out there who have flexed their muscle, and earned their stripes at places they didn't want to be at first, then managed to get where they needed to be," he said.
I was a black, fat, gullible 20 year old from Prince George County who could barely scrape two pennies together while listening to this, too goo goo eyed to let what he said go through one ear, and out the other, just taking his word to heed.
"Just keep that understanding going forward," he said to me in his closing words, as we shook hands, hugged, and he handed me one of his cards. "Good luck and thank you for everything Jovonn!"
A year later while in my very last class I got a phone call from one of the DJs at the station, whom we'll call "Nate."
"Vonn, hey man, I just got promoted to assistant station manager," he said to me. "You did such a good job, you think if we offer you the right bread, you'd like to come join our team? Perhaps be our lead street rep? Alvin told me you minored in marketing at HU."
I was confused, as Alvin pretty much made it seem as if I wouldn't have a place at that station right away, as if I had to work in places like North Dakota or Alaska before getting the chance to spread my wings like I wanted to. Nate explained more:
"Alving gives that bullshit discourse to those he likes. Hell, I got the same before I got on. He bragged about you, but was on the fence as we had another kid from Norfolk that came up that, to be honest, was his top target, but the guy took a job down there. So what's up?"
I didn't like playing second choice in anything, but there was some truth in that speech Alvin gave me as suddenly I looked at it as more than just working for my favorite station, but perhaps using it as a stepping stone for something bigger. Alvin, with his street styles with big jewelry, the Ralph Lauren shirt and jeans on top of the golden Timberland boots, was a slicker for sure, a slicker that when I came back for the real interview prior to signing a contract, he was giddy, smiling from ear to ear when we shook hands.
"Welcome to the team, Vonn," he said in his Maryland accent. "You got the chance to really take us over the top running our street team, getting our brand out there. There's already talk of going nationally syndicated, and well, what better guy to hire than someone who's from the area, loves the station, and is vested in our success. I hope you ready to travel, baby."
He didn't know that I knew I was the second choice, but that was okay as I was graduating in two months and needed a job, and so Nate threw out the right price for an entry level position. Two weeks later I was on the road, as Alvin and Tameka, his assistant, were flying down to Atlanta to meet with some Clear Channel representative on a Monday evening. We landed and an all black SUV picked us up on the tarmac, with the three of us sitting in the back with Chester, some big timer with the company who greeted us and immediately started crunching numbers with Alvin. 30 minutes later we pulled in front of our hotel, whereas our rooms were already booked and we dropped off our things, then hopped back into the SUV to go to one of Atlanta's fancier restaurants. The entire time Alvin and Chester, a tall, slender, older white guy with gray hair donning a suit, chatted away, while Tameka and I would occasionally look at each other and grin, knowing we were there for the ride. We ate as I had calamari for the first time, then the driver took the three of us without Chester back to the hotel.
"Y'all let's meet in the morning at 8 a.m., and go over a few things. I'm beat, I know you two are as well. Have a good night," he told us once we walked into the lobby.
We all got on the elevator and went to the third floor, as our rooms were separated throughout the hall, maybe three rooms in between. I went looked at my phone to see it was 8:30 p.m., and I was beat, too tired to notice the large window overlooking the bustling city, or the jacuzzi tub a few feet away. I did however notice a sign that read "complimentary mini bar for Vonn," and rubbed my eyes to make me a cocktail, an orange juice mixed with vodka.
"Shit, why not," I said as I turned on the television, my mind wondering if any replicas of the fine men I saw in that restaurant lingered in the hotel.
I had friends from school that lived in Atlanta and I started to call them to come and chill, but then I thought about the meeting I had the next morning because if I hung out with my friends, we were partying until 3 a.m. I refrained, as we had a week in Atlanta to work so I took off my clothes, then hopped in the shower, feeling tipsy from the strong drink. I unpacked my bag and put on my silk robe, as I wanted to feel sexy while out of town. I tied up my dreadlocks and laid in bed, just watching reruns of old shows from the 90s, then cutting the light off as I anticipated I would go to sleep. I was halfway there when I heard a knock at my door, rattled because at this time it was 11 p.m. I got up, tying my robe tight before I walked to the door, then stepped to look through the peephole to see it was Alvin.
