Les Brown and his twin brother were adopted by Mamie
Brown, a kitchen worker and maid, shortly after their
birth
in a poverty-stricken Miami neighborhood.
Because of his hyperactivity and nonstop jabber, Les
was placed in special education classes for the
learning
disabled in grade school and throughout high school.
Upon
graduation, he became a city sanitation worker in
Miami
Beach. But he had a dream of being a disc jockey.
At night he would take a transistor radio to bed where
he listened to the local jive-talking deejays. He
created an
imaginary radio station in his tiny room with its torn
vinyl
flooring. A hairbrush served as his microphone as he
practiced his patter, introducing records to his ghost
listeners.
His mother and brother could hear him through the thin
walls and would shout at him to quit flapping his jaws
and
go to sleep. But Les didn't listen to them. He was
wrapped
up in his own world, living a dream.
One day Les boldly went to the local radio station
during his lunch break from mowing grass for the city.
He
got into the station manager's office and told him he
wanted
to be a disc jockey.
The manager eyed this disheveled young man in overalls
and a straw hat and inquired, "Do you have any
background in
broadcasting?"
Les replied, "No sir, I don't."
"Well, son, I'm afraid we don't have a job for you
then."
Les thanked him politely and left. The station manager
assumed that he had seen the last of this young man.
But he
underestimated the depth of Les Brown's commitment to
his
goal. You see, Les had a higher purpose than simply
wanting
to be a disc jockey. He wanted to buy a nicer house
for his
adoptive mother, whom he loved deeply. The disc jockey
job
was merely a step toward his goal.
Mamie Brown had taught Les to pursue his dreams, so he
felt sure that he would get a job at that radio
station in
spite of what the station manager had said.
And so Les returned to the station every day for a
week, asking if there were any job openings. Finally
the
station manager gave in and took him on as an errand
boy -
at no pay. At first, he fetched coffee or picked up
lunches
and dinner for the deejays who could not leave the
studio.
Eventually his enthusiasm for their work won him the
confidence of the disc jockeys who would send him in
their
Cadillacs to pick up visiting celebrities such as the
Temptations and Diana Ross and the Supremes. Little
did any
of them know that young Les did not have a driver's
license.
Les did whatever was asked of him at the station - and
more. While hanging out with the deejays, he taught
himself
their hand movements on the control panel. He stayed
in the
control rooms and soaked up whatever he could until
they
asked him to leave. Then, back in his bedroom at
night, he
practiced and prepared himself for the opportunity
that he
knew would present itself.
One Saturday afternoon while Les was at the station, a
deejay named Rock was drinking while on the air. Les
was the
only other person in the building, and he realized
that Rock
was drinking himself toward trouble. Les stayed close.
He
walked back and forth in front of the window in Rock's
booth. As he prowled, he said to himself. "Drink,
Rock,
drink!"
Les was hungry, and he was ready. He would have run
down the street for more booze if Rock had asked. When
the
phone rang, Les pounced on it. It was the station
manager,
as he knew it would be.
"Les, this is Mr. Klein."
"Yes," said Les. "I know."
"Les, I don't think Rock can finish his program."
"Yes sir, I know."
"Would you call one of the other deejays to come in
and
take over?"
"Yes, sir. I sure will."
But when Les hung up the telephone, he said to
himself,
"Now, he must think I'm crazy."
Les did dial the telephone, but it wasn't to call in
another deejay. He called his mother first, and then
his
girlfriend. "You all go out on the front porch and
turn up
the radio because I'm about to come on the air!" he
said.
He waited about 15 minutes before he called the
general
manager. "Mr. Klein, I can't find nobody," Les said.
Mr. Klein then asked, "Young man, do you know how to
work the controls in the studio?"
"Yes sir," replied Les.
Les darted into the booth, gently moved Rock aside and
sat down at the turntable. He was ready. And he was
hungry.
He flipped on the microphone switch and said, "Look
out!
This is me LB, triple P - Les Brown, Your Platter
Playing
Poppa. There were none before me and there will be
none
after me. Therefore, that makes me the one and only.
Young
and single and love to mingle. Certified, bona fide,
indubitably qualified to bring you satisfaction, a
whole lot
of action. Look out, baby, I'm your lo-o-ove man"
Because of his preparation, Les was ready. He vowed
the
audience and his general manager. From that fateful
beginning, Les went on to a successful career in
broadcasting, politics, public speaking and
television.
