Penobscot 89.1 WXJT

Helen placed the headphones over her ears, adjusted the microphone, and opened her small black notebook to review her morning radio show plan. The notebook’s worn cover and crinkled pages told the story of her 73rd year – her radio show outlines, to-do lists, reminders, important dates, and doctors’ appointments.

Helen flipped a switch, and the “On Air” sign hanging from the ceiling lit up the studio window along Main Street.

“Good morning, this is Helen Gress, your host of the Penobscot Island Radio morning show on 89.1 WXJT, live from Granite Isle, Maine. It’s a bit after 8:00 a.m. on Monday, February 8, and you’ve been listening all night to the Harbor Quarrymen at the Independence Day street dance in the summer of 2019. What a year, 2019, back when you could shake hands and whisper secrets.

“As many of you know, I keep a small black notebook to record each year of my life. Except for the notebook that I lost in Italy on my 59th birthday trip – I hope whoever found it could not read English – the notebooks are on the shelf in my office. I review them when I have forgotten various details. Next week on my birthday I will start a new notebook. I’m not sure which I like more – the worn notebooks with edges frayed by my story or the unwritten pages with every possibility. It’s a habit I’ve passed along to many of our young ones who feel trapped by technology and like the tangible feel of a day well-lived.

“Anyway, I’ve been thinking about my 73rd year. There are no theater or baseball tickets, concert programs, drink coasters, church bulletins, or other keepsakes tucked between the pages of my notebook. I crossed out the itinerary for my canceled vacation to Myrtle Beach with a black marker. The jazz festival was canceled. The lobster boat races were canceled – there were no interviews with excited winners.

“It has been a challenging year, but the steadfast faithfulness of WXJT’s listeners has kept me going. Like the snow on this Monday morning, this virus will pass, and our island communities will emerge vibrant and strong, ready to face tomorrow’s new trials. Keep going, Penobscot Bay, keep going. Don’t quit on me.

“This morning’s program includes an interview with Ben Barnes about his COVID test, a chat with Katherine Spiegel, the president of the American Nonprofit Radio Coalition, the ANRC, and an interview with Clay Fortier. Clay was born on the island and turned 80 last week. He will share his favorite Granite Isle stories with us, and we will celebrate his birthday on-air. The morning will wrap up with the Town Administrator talking about snow plowing and upcoming road construction projects.

“Talking about the white stuff, a big shout out to Katie who was out and about at 4:30 a.m. this morning shoveling the sidewalk outside the station. Katie, your coffee is on me this morning.

“We’re expecting another 3 to 5 inches by late morning with a temperature hovering around 16 degrees. The wind is out of the southwest with ocean waves of 4 to 6 ft. Not too awful – the ferry boat to the mainland is expected to run all day, but the ride could be a bit wild. Make sure your car’s emergency brake is on, and you have an extra parka ‘cause the air is wicked raw.

“Lillian Jackson just waved at me from the sidewalk. She’s the new CEO of the electric cooperative. Moved out here from Montana. I’ve noticed that the single men in town are now paying their electric bills in person at the co-op office across the street. Yessa, I think I know what that’s all about.

“On to announcements. The Granite Isle High School science class is experimenting with lobster farming methods. The lobsters were donated by Danny Morgan last December before he hauled up his traps for winter. He’s off to Cape May, New Jersey, for Coast Guard boot camp after graduation. I know he will make us proud.

“The island medical center is scheduling vaccinations for emergency medical staff and residents ages 70 and older. Call today for an appointment.”

Helen waved a young man into the studio and signaled him to sit down in the empty chair across the plexiglass from Helen. He put the spare set of headphones on and leaned toward the guest microphone.

“Ben Barnes is joining me now. Ben’s grandmother is one of my best friends; both our families have Micmac Indian heritage, so we are distant cousins, I think. Anyway, Ben got a COVID test last week and is here to share his experience with our listeners. Ben, tell us about the test.”

“Wellsa, the nurse collects a sample from your nostril using a cotton swab – it was at least a foot long and super uncomfortable. The swab was so far up my nostril that my eyes watered, and I sneezed. Like a big sneeze. Her face shield was covered in my snot.”

“Sounds like she got a good sample.”

“You could say that,” Ben snorted into the microphone. “The test came back negative, but my nostril burned – like a freezing burn – all day.”

“At least you didn’t have a test in China. I hear they are using anal swabs,” Helen’s deadpan face challenged Ben to laugh.

Ben folded his arms, leaned in to meet Helen’s stare, and said, “Wellsa, I hope no one sneezes during that test.”

Helen fought to maintain her composure. “Touché,” she said.

“Not to mention the view of a drive-up testing center. I can imagine everyone’s…”.

“Thank you, Ben,” Helen interrupted, turning off Ben’s microphone. “I speak for everyone on the islands in saying that we’re glad your COVID-free.”

Ben smiled victoriously, stretched a mask imprinted with lobsters over his mouth and nose, and headed out onto the snow-blanketed Main Street.

“It’s no wonder that Ben was the winner of the standup comedy competition at the pub last year,” Helen grinned, shaking her head. “And we have a caller. WXJT, you’re on the air.”

“Helen, it’s Jean. I just wanted to let everyone know that Creek Run Road near the meadow is flooded. You’ll need to take West Island Road instead or wait about 45 minutes for high tide to recede. Otherwise, you’ll get that icy saltwater on your car’s undercarriage, and Mike’s car wash is closed for the winter. It’ll rust in about two minutes.”

“Thank you, Jean. It seems like every time the engineers fix flooding in one area, the water shifts to a different spot. That’s island life for you.”

“Ayuh. Thanks, Helen.” The line went dead.

“In just a moment, we will be joined by Katherine Spiegel, the American Nonprofit Radio Coalition president,” Helen said as she dialed the number. “Katherine has always supported WXJT, beginning with helping us get our low power FM radio license from the FCC. She understands the value that local nonprofit radio brings to rural communities. Welcome, Katherine Spiegel, to our morning show.”

“Good morning, Helen. Thank you for having me on today. I enjoy listening to WXJT whenever I am in your area, and the broadcast of Shadows of the Salted Sea on your website is brilliant. Excellent radio theater.”

“The Island Players will be thrilled to hear that you liked their performance.”

“It’s one of the many innovative ways your community has used WXJT to encourage each other through the pandemic, which is the purpose of my call today. Helen, what does Penobscot 89.1 WXJT mean to you.”

“Are you interviewing me, Katherine?”

“I think your listeners would like to hear about you for a change.”

“Okay, that seems fair,” Helen chuckled. “When I retired, I wanted to continue serving my community, and WXJT gave me that opportunity. As a nonprofit community station, WXJT connects our island communities. Whether we are airing interviews of our neighbor historians, artists, authors, lobstermen, farmers, and students, or simply town meeting and event announcements, the station brings us together.”

“Why is that important to you?” Katherine asked.

“Island life can be lonely and feel isolated without each other. Winter has always been hard on the Penobscot islands. There are not any bridges between us, and boats are dry-docked. The ferries run back and forth from the mainland, but we depend on each other to survive – more so with the virus. Even people who don’t particularly like each other will help the other through a rough patch. I never really understood what community was until I moved to Granite Isle. Now, I can’t imagine my life without this community.”

“Am I correct in saying that WXJT was your dream and that you invested your own money to get it started?” Katherine asked.

“Ayuh, when I was a young girl, I had two dreams – walking on the moon and talking on the radio. I never made it to the moon, but I went to work when I had the opportunity to start WXJT. I would invest in this station and this community any day. We support each other. This station may have been my dream, but the island people made it possible, and with their support, WXJT stays on the air.”

“I have a few quotes to read to you,” Katherine said. “Ruth from Creek Cove said that she’s never had a better friend and neighbor; you are always willing to lend a hand with any project and return a stray chicken. Scott, who is studying communications at Husson University, told me that announcing sporting events on-air for Granite Isle High School kept him from dropping out when things were difficult. You gave him that opportunity.”

“I’m so proud of Scott,” Helen said.

“Gene said that you have helped raise funds for the historical society and the preservation of local landmarks and monuments. Heidi said that you have a way of making people feel special; she said that you are one of the few people who recognize the meaning in life's mundane activities. You were also referred to as, and these are direct quotes, the cat’s pajamas, bee’s knees, and kipper’s knickers.”

“Kipper’s knickers,” Helen laughed. “The people here know how to make you feel appreciated. Thank you for those kind words.”

“Helen, the ANRC is honoring you with the lifetime achievement award for service to your community.”

“Come again?” Helen’s cheeks flushed.

“You were nominated by over 800 people in Penobscot Bay for the ANRC’s lifetime achievement award. In better times, we would honor you at the national conference. This year, your morning show is the best we can do.”

Helen glanced down at her small black notebook. “I didn’t plan on this. What a surprise,” she tried to calm the small shaking movements of her hands.

“The ANRC will present you with this year’s plaque and a monetary award in the amount of $20,000 in recognition of your dedication to the island communities.”

“Really? This is incredible. Thank you, Katherine. Thank you, friends, neighbors, and listeners. Thank you, Penobscot Bay.”

“Thank you, Helen, for all the work you have done to make WXJT an asset to your community.”

“Thank you. That was Katherine Spiegel, the president of the American Nonprofit Radio Coalition.” Helen’s throat went dry as her eyes welled up. “I can’t express how much this award means to me. I’ll be back in a moment, listeners. Here’s the Harbor Quarrymen singing their local hit, ‘Stars Over the Shore.’”

Helen started the music, pushed her headphones down around her neck, and looked out the studio windows to find a sea of people spread out along Main Street in the snow. Their gloved hands applauded in a standing ovation.

“Thank you,” she mouthed the words as a wandering tear splashed past her smile onto the tattered pages of the small black notebook, puckering the page with the moment.