Over the years, I’ve reported on countless deaths in this industry. Eventually, you learn how to compartmentalize it. You have to. Radio is both massive and small at the same time, and when you’ve been around long enough, the losses become personal.
This one is personal.
I’m acknowledging the passing of someone who had a direct impact on my career and whose role in radio history is often understated by those who didn’t know him personally. Jim “Dr. Daddio” Walker was a pioneer, a station owner, and a man who fought relentlessly for his place AND OURS in the industry.
I worked at KDKO AM 1510 from 1989 to 1990. During that time, Dr. Daddio gave me my first and only programming position in radio. I was in my twenties, and he believed in me. That mattered more than he probably realized at the time.
Dr. Daddio loved radio. He talked about it constantly, about working for other stations, about his road toward ownership, about the extreme politics in dealing with white marketing companies who made black media owners jump through hoops to get advertising and about finally achieving his goal, nonetheless.
I watched him fight for every inch of progress. I also saw the frustration that came with trying to secure advertising support for a Black-owned station. The barriers were real, and they were exhausting. He warned me about all of it but there was no need because I actually saw him go through it.
He was selective about the music he played. While open to rap, he was firm about not promoting records he believed harmed the Black community or degraded Black women. He held strong opinions and wasn’t shy about expressing them. I watched people leave his office rattled more than once. He was tall, imposing, and had a voice that filled the room. At times, it was almost theatrical.
But I saw past that.
One day, while he was pacing in his office and raising his voice about an issue, I laughed. Not out of disrespect, but recognition. He stopped, clearly surprised. The look said, you’re supposed to be intimidated. I wasn’t. I laughed because I understood him. He paused, gave it a quick thought, then he laughed too. From that moment on, there was a mutual understanding and respect.
Years later, I was told that he spoke proudly about my work with Radio Facts long after I left the station in 1990. That meant more to me than I ever told him.
I regret not making it back to Denver more often to visit. I would have gladly listened to more of his stories. He wasn’t just a pioneer, he was a revolutionary. Everything he built came through resistance, persistence, and sacrifice. I learned a great deal about operating a Black-owned business in this industry by watching him navigate it.
Dr. Daddio passed away on January 27. There was no scenario where I wouldn’t acknowledge the man who helped shape my path. Thank you for the opportunity. Thank you for the lessons. Thank you for the example. Thank you for your indelible contributions.
Job well done.
Kevin Ross