Wolfman Jack

Wolfman Jack, the disc jockey whose internationally known gravelly voice punctuated by wolf-man howls of "how-wooooo!" made him an American rock 'n' roll icon, died Saturday of a heart attack. He was 57. The colorful entertainer, whose real name was Robert Weston Smith, had just returned to his Belvidere, N.C., home 120 miles east of Raleigh when he collapsed, said Lonnie Napier, vice president of Wolfman Jack Entertainment.

Ted Dougherty is an unassuming Glendale paralegal and classical musician with an overt dark side that reaches its monstrous zenith every October. Dougherty stumbled upon his twisted passion in 1987 during a visit to Knott's Scary Farm, which ultimately led to a fan website dedicated to the seasonal theme park event, an annual job as an undead werewolf and now a new book, "Knott's Halloween Haunt: A Picture History. " > Photos: The history of Halloween Haunt at Knott's Berry Farm The authorized but unofficial pictorial compendium traces the history of the "Scariest Place on Earth" and its expansion over the past four decades at Knott's Berry Farm into the "Granddaddy of Halloween Events.

Wolfman Jack's gravelly, rapid-fire delivery blared from a boombox at his gravestone Saturday--just the way he would have wanted it. His black, broad-brimmed hat with a silver band rested atop his gray marble headstone, which was inscribed with his nickname, his real name--Robert Weston Smith--and the kicker, "One more time."

The sudden death of outlaw deejay Wolfman Jack in July elevates his newly published autobiography, "Have Mercy!," from a pop-bio into something of a testament. And, as it turns out, "Have Mercy!" is one celebrity memoir that can also be read as a morality play. On the very first page, Wolfman Jack describes the deal that he struck with the devil, a deal that captures the huckstering spirit of American pop culture.

The sudden death of outlaw deejay Wolfman Jack in July elevates his newly published autobiography, "Have Mercy!," from a pop-bio into something of a testament. And, as it turns out, "Have Mercy!" is one celebrity memoir that can also be read as a morality play. On the very first page, Wolfman Jack describes the deal that he struck with the devil, a deal that captures the huckstering spirit of American pop culture.

Another howling oldies era is coming to an end at XTRA-AM. Radio legend Wolfman Jack has announced that he'll be leaving the station because golden oldies programming clashes with XTRA's new all-talk format. "It's nothing personal nor are there any bad feelings," the Wolfman growled. "They've been paying me a lotta money so I sure wouldn't leave if it wasn't the right thing all the way around." The four-hour "The Wolfman Jack Show" had aired from 2 p.m. to 6 p.m.

He howled like a wolf. He laughed like a hyena. He screamed out song titles with the brazen hell-be-damned authority of a Marine Corps drill instructor. His delivery was deemed too bizarre, too outrageous, too histrionic, for American radio. So in 1962, Robert Weston Smith crossed the border into Mexico and, as Wolfman Jack, began his seven-year reign as the raging lunatic king of Top 40 radio.

The Wolfman is mad. And he says to Alan Cranston, "I'm gonna getcha." It all started when Robert Shrum and David Doak, who make TV commercials for Democratic Sen. Cranston's reelection campaign, were looking for one more ad to draw attention to the inconsistent stands that Cranston's Republican opponent, Rep. Ed Zschau, has taken on some issues. Why not "Ed Zschau's greatest flip-flops?" they mused as they brainstormed late one night in Washington.

Wolfman Jack's gravelly, rapid-fire delivery blared from a boombox at his gravestone Saturday--just the way he would have wanted it. His black, broad-brimmed hat with a silver band rested atop his gray marble headstone, which was inscribed with his nickname, his real name--Robert Weston Smith--and the kicker, "One more time."

Wolfman Jack, the disc jockey whose internationally known gravelly voice punctuated by wolf-man howls of "how-wooooo!" made him an American rock 'n' roll icon, died Saturday of a heart attack. He was 57. The colorful entertainer, whose real name was Robert Weston Smith, had just returned to his Belvidere, N.C., home 120 miles east of Raleigh when he collapsed, said Lonnie Napier, vice president of Wolfman Jack Entertainment.

Another howling oldies era is coming to an end at XTRA-AM. Radio legend Wolfman Jack has announced that he'll be leaving the station because golden oldies programming clashes with XTRA's new all-talk format. "It's nothing personal nor are there any bad feelings," the Wolfman growled. "They've been paying me a lotta money so I sure wouldn't leave if it wasn't the right thing all the way around." The four-hour "The Wolfman Jack Show" had aired from 2 p.m. to 6 p.m.

Legendary disc jockey Wolfman Jack says his new cable TV show spotlighting rock 'n' roll oldies rivals his former hit show, "The Midnight Special." The Wolfman, who portrayed himself in the 1973 movie "American Graffiti," is the host of "Rock 'n' Roll Palace" on the Nashville Network. The 30-minute program is taped at Little Darlin's Rock 'n' Roll Palace in Kissimmee, Fla.

Legendary disc jockey Wolfman Jack says his new cable TV show spotlighting rock 'n' roll oldies rivals his former hit show, "The Midnight Special." The Wolfman, who portrayed himself in the 1973 movie "American Graffiti," is the host of "Rock 'n' Roll Palace" on the Nashville Network. The 30-minute program is taped at Little Darlin's Rock 'n' Roll Palace in Kissimmee, Fla.

First, the disclaimer: A few years ago, one of this book's co-authors wrote me asking for research suggestions on the subject of border radio; I lent a hand--actually, more like a finger--and did not see their work until after it was complete. Now, the review. Fifty years ago you probably would have had just one radio in your home, and chances are at night it would have been tuned to one of the border blasters, those megawatt stations that dotted our 2,000-mile frontier with Mexico.