When I was one of the Country Gentlemen at the Big G in Indianapolis in the late 60s, I worked the seven to midnight shift. The AM station was a rhythm & blues daytimer, which meant that after sunset when the AM signed off I was alone in the station from around eight until I locked up and left after signing the FM off at midnight. WGEE only played two kinds of records; Rhythm & Blues on the AM and Country on the FM. However, they were serviced with all kinds of albums and 45s. All of the reject records were put into a holding pattern that started in the program director's office and continued through the engineer's workshop into a large storage area in a back room of the station. From there they were carried out to the incinerator and burned. Not for any political or censorship reasons, but just to make space for more rejected records. Once I figured out that formula, I devised a method for giving those records a final check before they hit the fire.

Early in my shift I would go through the library of Country records we played on the air and write the last two or three hours of my show. Then I'd get the records all in order. After the last person left the building, maybe the AM DJ, perhaps the engineer, sometimes a salesperson, often the news guy, occasionally the manager, I would put my program into play. I'd begin with a long song, hit start on my stop watch, and run to the stack of records at the fire end of the holding pattern. While the song was playing I would shuffle through the records nearest the incinerator and search for albums that, though worthless to the Big G, were treasures to me. I would work my way back through the engineer's office to the program director's office flipping through the records looking for good ones. I would know the length of the song I was playing and I kept an eye on my stop watch to let me know when I had to run back to the control room to segway the next tune. I found a lot of great records that way, but my most striking find was the first album by Townes Van Zandt.

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