One of my first jobs at 17 years old was spinning records and reading the weather on WKPT-AM 1400. It’s where I first learned the rhythm of broadcasting — the hum of the board, the glow of the transmitter, and the magic of sending a voice out into the darkness for anyone to hear. Over the years, my brother worked on that same frequency, and so did many of my friends — Elva Marie, Mike Padgett, Charlie Aesque, Dave Sieg and Alan Sieg, Edward Smith, Morgan King, and many others who helped shape the sound of Kingsport.

This week, the old WKPT tower came down — a familiar silhouette on the skyline now gone. The signal still lives on, of course. WKPT continues to broadcast, carried now by newer technology and different towers. But seeing that original structure disappear feels symbolic of how time moves — how the physical presence of what once connected us gives way to quieter, unseen means.

For decades, AM radio was the Internet before the Internet. It was how news traveled, how music found its way into mountain kitchens, how a storm warning or a ball game could bring an entire region together. Those airwaves carried more than just sound — they carried community, imagination, and the heartbeat of a small town finding its voice.

The technology may change, but those frequencies still hum with memory. And for those of us who once sat behind that microphone, it’s a reminder that while towers may fall, the signal — and the spirit behind it — continues on.

As I recall, it was 1978 when I worked there and Stayin' Alive was in heavy rotation...