Linda Sengstacke was a tough editor and crusader for justice at the Tri-State Defender

The name Linda Taylor Sengstacke was synonymous with the Black Press in the 1970s and ‘80s. She was the editor-in-chief of the Tri-State Defender during that time and followed the tradition of attacking issues head-on without fear or favor, an approach to journalism that was encouraged by her uncle-in-law, John H. Sengstacke, who founded the Defender in 1951.

Mrs. Sengstacke was married to John H. Sengstacke’s nephew, Herman Fredrick Sengstacke, a photojournalist. On Sept. 9, she died peacefully at their home in Bristol, Penn., after a long illness. She was 67.

Linda Taylor Sengstacke

“Linda was committed to whatever she was doing and was always helping somebody,” her husband said. The Sengstackes were married 33 years, but spent a total of 40 years together.

She was the quintessential journalist and a crusader for justice, said Herman Fredrick Sengstacke, recalling a headline story of a man who was allegedly drugged and killed his father.

“Linda wrote a story and the man got off,” he said. “The lead story was ‘I Didn’t Know I Killed My Father.’”

Mrs. Sengstacke’s contributions to the newspaper can be found in the Defender’s archives and remembered by the people who knew her as a bona fide journalist.

“She was fearless,” said her sister-in-law Ethel Sengstacke, who once worked at the Defender as a photojournalist. “She researched her stories and was fair and balanced. She sought the truth.”

She said Mrs. Sengstacke wanted to know the truth about “Voodoo Village,” an eerie compound in the Westwood community. Her cousin, Thomas Maurice Sengstacke Picou, “challenged us to go down to Voodoo Village.”

Picou was John H. Sengstacke’s nephew and a widely respected, award-winning journalist from Chicago. Sensing their apprehension to investigate Voodoo Village, she said Picou responded in jest, “You supposed to be journalists.” 

“So we went down to a dead-end street,” she recalls. “I turned the car around so we could get out. Linda said she wanted to talk to this man; he was the leader. He told us he was going to put a curse on us.”

Herman Fredrick Sengstacke and his wife
of 33 years, Linda Taylor Sengstacke

 Strange people were encroaching upon them, Ethel Sengstacke said. “So I got in the car and it wouldn’t start. We finally got it started and got the hell out of there.”

The Defender had been a family operation with creative input from Picou, whom Mrs. Sengstacke esteemed. After he died in 2014, she told a reporter, “Tommy taught me everything I know about the newspaper business.”

She often referred to Picou as her mentor.

Mrs. Sengstacke was just as fond of her immediate family and friends. “She treated me like a daughter,” said Michele Lucas, a niece. “I talked to her every night. She was family-oriented.”

The consensus is Mrs. Sengstacke was a tough journalist. However, Lucas pointed out this about her aunt: “You weren’t going to get over on her. She’d bark at you, but would help you with anything.”

“She was always a good aunt to everybody,” added Christine Shane, Mrs. Sengstacke’s sister from Texas and the only sibling left. “When we were kids, she was the busiest of eight of us.”

Shane said life for Mrs. Sengstacke began at 1616 Monsarrat St. in a small brick home in South Memphis. It was the family home headed by their parents, the late Mamie and James Taylor Sr.

Mrs. Sengstacke attended St. Augustine Catholic School and graduated from Father Bertrand High School in 1970. She left there and matriculated at the former Memphis State University.

Mrs. Sengstacke held a couple of jobs before fate led her to The Tri-State Defender, Memphis’ premier black newspaper. “She was the first female editor of the paper,” her proud husband said.

A memorial service for Mrs. Linda Taylor Sengstacke is slated for 1 p.m. Saturday, Sept. 28 at Joe Ford Funeral Home, 1616 Winchester Rd., Memphis, TN 38116.

Beef with mother leads daughter to help the homeless

The relationship between mothers and daughters can become quite contentious and fragile sometimes. In some cases, the relationship may languish beyond repair.

 “Today’s mother and daughter relationships are the most turbulent in existence,” said Timishia Ortiz, who is hosting a “Mother Daughter Gala: The Heart of the Matter” on Sept. 14, from 5 p.m. to 8 p.m., at Bartlett Banquet Hall, 2758 Bartlett Blvd.

There is a fee to attend the gala: $35 for adults and $15 for children. Proceeds benefit The Jasmine Center, Inc., a non-profit transitional home for families that Ortiz is planning to open in the Binghampton community.

A contentious relationship with her mother, which
resulted in homelessness, led Timishia Ortiz to host
a Mother Daughter Gala to fund The Jasmine
Center, a transitional home for families.
(Courtesy photo)

“The property that I’m looking at…they want $350,000,” said Ortiz, 36, the Center’s founder, president and CEO. A temporary office is located at 3592 Knight Arnold Rd., Suite 320.

“Right now we still do help families in need. We will open up the facility as soon as we get the money,” said Ortiz, adding that once the doors are open, six families at a time will be able to stay up to 12 months.

The gala is the first step in bringing The Jasmine Center to fruition. Attendees can expect light refreshments, in addition to a performance by former recording artist Temmora Levy, who manages the wildly popular girl group, KARMA. Elder Yvonne R. James, a poet and novelist, will deliver the message.

While raising needed funds is paramount, Ortiz is hoping the message and camaraderie will help repair relationships and eventually mend hearts – thus the impetus that led to the founding of The Jasmine Center.

In fact, Ortiz’s relationship with her own mother was fraught with problems that waned over time. She was incensed that her mother had defaulted on a lease agreement that was forged with her name.

She discovered what her mother had done after leaving an abusive husband in Nashville and returning home to Memphis for family support. An eviction notice had already been issued, which meant the person whose name was on the lease (Timishia Ortiz) had to vacate the property.

Ortiz was pregnant at the time with her son and a two-year-old daughter in tow when her world was suddenly upended. Because of her mother’s misdeed, “I couldn’t get a place because of the eviction on my credit.”

In retrospect, Ortiz had no money because her husband, whom she’d married in 2013, had convinced her to stay home. The arrangement turned out to be an unwise decision on her part.

When she’d search for a place to live, she was told she needed a physical address. The eviction also complicated matters.

Ortiz was now homeless and had nowhere to turn for help. Then, too, having to navigate the court system leading up to a rocky divorce only exacerbated her problem.

“We were on the streets. Sometimes we slept in my car,” she said.

Ortiz had come from a steady family. Her father was a radiologist and a preacher. He died the day before her seventh birthday. Her mother, who’d stayed home at the behest of her husband, raised five children.

After finishing high school, Ortiz earned a degree at the University of Memphis, worked a good paying job, volunteered in the community, and attended church. Homelessness was now a factor that she had to contend with.

Options were nil for the homeless population in Memphis in 2016, said Ortiz, who’d searched for a shelter to no avail. So she opted to return to Nashville where she’d fled domestic violence. She found a shelter and employment there.

After returning to Memphis, “My dad’s sister relocated from Atlanta to Memphis to help me and my children get a place to stay after she found out what had happened.”

Ortiz had struggled for six months before she started seeing a glimmer of hope. Now she’s trying to help others who are homeless with limited resources or none at all. That’s why The Jasmine Center is so important, she said.

Her mother died this year in March. The eviction snafu, however, is still unresolved. “I’m still trying to fix that error,” said Ortiz, who had already forgiven her mother before she died.

For more information about The Jasmine Center, call (901) 921-9455.

Min. Suhkara A. Yahweh to talk about civil rights and his beatdown in Forrest City, Arkansas

Min. Suhkara A. Yahweh, known during the Civil Rights Movement as Lance
"Sweet Willie Wine" Watson, lounges in his South Memphis home/office where
the story of his activism is documented via newspaper clippings, books and
photographs. (Photo by Wiley Henry)

Forrest City (Arkansas) was once a bastion of racial upheaval. Named for the infamous Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest, Min. Suhkara A. Yahweh knows the city all too well. On Aug. 26, 1969, an angry white mob tried to beat the life out of him after leading a “Walk Against Fear.”

“I noticed two men…one in a suit and the other with jeans on. One had a knife in his hands,” Yahweh remembers. “Then I noticed two Europeans on the right side of me trying to break off this branch trying to hit me with it. The next thing I knew I had come to myself. I was in the gully.”

Yahweh will get a chance to tell the full story of his “Walk Against Fear” and other relevant issues affecting African Americans then and now when he returns to Forrest City on Aug. 17 to keynote the Civil Rights Commemoration Program at Beth Salem Baptist Church, 835 Garland St. The program will begin at 5 p.m.

The commemoration will also mark the 50th anniversary of Yahweh’s “Walk Against Fear,” a peaceful walk he was leading in 1969 from West Memphis to Little Rock to bring attention to injustice there and racial conflict. 

On Aug. 18 at 5 p.m. in Memphis, Yahweh and his friends will celebrate his 81st birthday a day earlier at Booth Park at South Parkway East and Texas Street, which coincides with the third annual B.F. Booth Day. Benjamin Franklin Booth (1858-1941), a slave, teacher, principal and attorney, was a distant relative of Yahweh’s.

The skirmish in Forrest City that led to Yahweh’s beatdown is a constant reminder of an era that mirrors racial conflict today. It is an easy topic for Yahweh – who sacrificed life and limb to change the status quo – when he addresses the audience at Beth Salem.

“Min. Yahweh will talk about the struggle of the Civil Rights Movement in Forrest City, and part of that is the Walk Against Fear,” said Frank Shaw III, a retired educator and president of the St. Francis County Branch NAACP, the program sponsor.

“We will talk about the struggle from 1963 to 1969 when Min. Yahweh came to Forrest City,” said Shaw, also on program to speak. He credits Yahweh for his role in initiating incremental changes that eventually came to Forrest City.

“After Yahweh, jobs and everything opened up,” he said.

Known in 1969 as Lance “Sweet Willie Wine” Watson, a 31-year-old member of The Invaders, a local militant civil rights group, Yahweh was already deep in the throes of the “Movement” when the Rev. Cato Brooks Jr. called on him to come to Forrest City to help picket and boycott white merchants.  

Brooks, the Rev. J.F. Cooley and other leaders in Forrest City had been organizing a “poor people’s march” across East Arkansas, but postponed it after meeting with then Arkansas Gov. Winthrop Rockefeller. 

“With them calling off the march…we were looking forward to it. So I couldn’t in good faith be part of the decision,” Yahweh said. “So I said what we’d do…I’ll have a walk against fear.”

The first stage of the “Walk Against Fear” began on Yahweh’s birthday, Aug. 19. He said it took him four days to reach Little Rock. Altogether, he had occupied Forrest City for a total of three months trying to tame the rambunctious city.

So Yahweh has much to talk about at Beth Salem. His stories are endless, vivid, and forever inscribed in the annals of history.

“My fingerprints are all over Memphis, Atlanta, Mississippi, Jackson, Carolina, Washington, D.C.,” he said.

He also left his indelible fingerprint in Forrest City, Ark.

Elder Barbara Hawthorne: Prayer Warrior

Elder Barbara Hawthorne feeds and prays for the health and welfare of these men
in Morris Park after church services. (Photos by Grace Perry)

Barbara Hawthorne has studied the Word of God, taught Bible study, prayed for the sick and shut-in, ministered to the least of God’s people, and preached the unadulterated gospel truth for more than 25 years.

So why has this licensed and ordained elder, evangelist and prayer warrior taken her ministry to the streets and into the disadvantaged areas of the city?

“You can preach the perfect sermon, but there is no healing in the pews,” Hawthorne said. “There is so much hurt that is still not being addressed in the church.”

This gentleman gladly accepts
a mean and something to drink
from Elder Barbara Hawthorne
after he was released from
Methodist University
Hospital.

Ten years ago, Hawthorne made a conscious decision – or was “led by the Holy Spirit” – to minister to the downtrodden in communities where hurt and pain is visible.

“We preach feel-good sermons,” said Hawthorne, a member of The Life Church - Highland. “But there is still hidden pain, unspoken pain.”

Such as domestic violence inflicted on the victim of an abuser purporting to love that person.

Violent rage welling up in a child who has been battered, rejected or sexually abused by someone the child trusts.

Self-doubt, depression and suicidal thoughts overwhelming an individual’s mind who has given up on life.

Hunger pangs ravaging the innards of people without resources to feed themselves or their family.

Financial drought forcing people into homelessness in search of shelter on the dangerous streets of Memphis.

 Hawthorne said the common denominator in each example of unspoken pain is prayer. She feels it is her Christian duty to pray for people in the church, on the street corners, and others laden with life-altering problems.

When she’s feeding the homeless, she’ll first ask if it’s OK to pray with them and for them. Such was the case recently when she fed a half dozen hungry people in a Midtown park and prayed fervently for their restoration.

She wrote a prayer manual and submitted it to the Memphis Police Department after completing eight weeks of training at the MPD’s Clergy Police Academy in April. The partnership between the MPD and the faith-based community is designed to help reduce crime.

Hawthorne wanted to make a contribution. “There were Methodists, Baptists, Muslims, Catholics [in the class],” she said, and pointed out that the camaraderie was a welcome experience.

According to recent statistics, there are approximately 2,000 churches in the Greater Memphis Metropolitan area representing various beliefs and denominations including Christians, Hindus, Muslims, Buddhists and Jews.

Memphis alone has a population of 655,155 residents. For cities with 500,000 or more residents, Memphis is often ranked in the top 10 nationally for violent crimes. Hawthorne believes prayer is a deterrent.

She prayed for a woman recently released from jail and called on the Holy Spirit to free the woman from the lure of criminal activity. She also prays for juveniles with wanton behavioral problems.

No matter the person, their ethnicity or race, Hawthorne prays for them. She is a volunteer Chaplin at Regional One Health providing emotional and spiritual support to staff, patients and their family.

Hawthorne touts her passion for prayer and being disciplined in the nine attributes of the Fruit of the Holy Spirit, according to Galatians 5:22-23 – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

She said a person has to be equipped to do this kind of work – ministry. “You can’t just step into it with nothing. You have to have the right people with passion, heart and a love of God.”

Her vitae reflect the length and breadth of ministry and community outreach.

“I’ve been busy the last three years waiting on God,” said Hawthorne, believing God will take her to a higher plateau in ministry so that more people can experience the love of God.

Meanwhile, the prayer warrior plans to continue feeding the homeless, praying for the sick and shut-in, soothing troubled minds, visiting those in detention centers and the hospital, embracing the violent child, and tending the spiritual and emotional needs of victims of domestic violence.

“I call this mobile evangelism,” she said.

With ‘RESPECT,’ 11-year-old could advance in Apollo competition

When AlexAnndrea Yohontas Simpson takes the stage at the legendary Apollo Theatre in Harlem, New York, on July 10, she could win the respect of the audience.

In fact the 11-year-old will sing “RESPECT,” Aretha Franklin’s signature hit song from the 1960s, and “put her own spin on it,” said Katrina Whitfield, AlexAnndrea’s mother.

“She will be creative. She will make the song her own,” she said.

Eleven-year-old AlexAnndrea Simpson is
ready to audition for Amateur Night at the
Apollo in New York in April. (Courtesy photos)

Whitfield will be front and center at The Apollo Theatre for the Amateur Night competition to cheer on AlexAnndrea when she belts out her version of “RESPECT.” She’s her daughter’s most ardent supporter.

AlexAnndrea nevertheless remains confident using her voice to relate to the audience, to garner their respect, to kindle their emotions and to keep The Executioner from sweeping her off the stage.

“Being on stage gives me the confidence,” she said. “When you can take over the stage, you feel strong with emotions…and it makes me feel kind of powerful.”

AlexAnndrea will need that power to convince the tough and no-holds-barred audience that she is just that good. In fact, she has to “Be Good or Be Gone,” an edict of sort from the audience signaling who stays and who leaves.

Undaunted by the competition, AlexAnndrea plans to perform her very best under the circumstances. She’s not planning on getting swept off the stage. Instead, she said, “I want to take it to another level.”

The emerging singer, dancer and actress first auditioned in April in the Child Star category for Amateur Night at the Apollo. If she makes it past the curt audience on July 10, she’ll move to the third and final round on Sept. 27 for an opportunity to be the Grand Finale Winner and collect a cash prize of $5,000.

“Right now she’s on vocal rest,” said Whitfield, and added that AlexAnndrea’s diet has been changed to maximize her voice in order to beat the competition and win the audience’s approval.

“She’s ready,” her mother said.

Singing has always been a part of
AlexAnndrea Simpson's life.

Whitfield noted that AlexAnndrea has been ready for an opportunity of this magnitude since she first arrived in the world.

“She was born with it (innate talent),” she said. “She was humming songs before she started talking. I knew it before she came out because she had the cry of a six-month-old baby.”

It was a “soprano cry,” she added.

The household was conducive for AlexAnndrea’s arrival and her inclination to sing. “That’s all we do is play music. We don’t watch TV,” said Whitfield, mother of six daughters, all of whom are talented, and a son, James Whitfield, 27.

For example, Mariah Simpson, 21, sings, acts and dances; Jamesha Whitfield, 29, writes poetry; and Andrea Simpson, 17, will play Dorothy; and Shamiah Simpson, 19, will play Evilene in “The Whiz” on July 25 at the University of Memphis Rose Theater.

The sisters are behind AlexAnndrea 100 percent, said Whitfield, and added that Andrea Simpson will audition at the Apollo in September.

“She’s (AlexAnndrea) a natural. When I first met her at eight, I told her she was going to be a star,” said Chrysti Chandler, founder and artistic director of the Young Actors Guild (YAG), a nonprofit dance and theatre academy.

AlexAnndrea is one of Chandler’s prized students. “We provided vocal training,” she said. “I’ve worked with her for three years. She’s real good. She has a powerful voice…that raspy soul voice.”

Chandler also taught her about the importance of stage presence.

“I feel lucky to be there (at YAG),” said AlexAnndrea. “Ms. Chrysti puts me on the spot and I thank her. She pushes me to sing and sing out on stage.”

 Whitfield said her daughter has an old spirit. “She listens to Aretha Franklin, Frank Murphy, Yolanda Adams, Fantasia, and, of course, Beyoncé. But she is drawn to ‘Old School’ music.”

If AlexAnndrea’s voice were compared to another singer, it would be the legendary Ella Fitzgerald, a gifted jazz singer once referred to as the First Lady of Song and the Queen of Jazz.

“I like her voice; I like her music,” said AlexAnndrea, who has an affinity as well for gospel music, up-tempo songs and the classics.

While AlexAnndrea is honing her skills as a singer, she hasn’t neglected school. She had a 4.0 GPA at Vision Preparatory Charter School in South Memphis and will start the 2019-2020 school year as a sixth-grader.

Before graduating Vision Prep, AlexAnndrea had divided her time between school and practice. “I’d go to school, come home and do my homework, and practice my singing from seven to nine.”

Memphis is known for its hotbed of talent the world over and now serves as a launching pad for AlexAnndrea. Born in Alabama, the family moved to the Bluff City from Detroit in 2011.

Now Memphis is home.

“My mom and dad moved to Memphis in 2008,” said Whitfield. “He was diagnosed with Parkinson in 2010. So I came here to help them out.”

She fell in love with Memphis and found the right people at the right time to help prepare AlexAnndrea for the big stage.

“It’s the rich history, the ‘Old School’ music, and the weather,” said Whitfield, confident that her daughter’s talent will lead to the caviar of entertainment success some day.

Amateur Night at the Apollo could be that barometer – if The Executioner doesn’t sweep her off the stage.

Young author converts a chapter in his book into a full-fledged movie

Tony M. Jackson, author and director of "The Story of Randolph," listens intently
to Kelvin Humphrey (seated), who handles the film's audio. Everette Thomas (on
Jackson's right) provides input on the soundboard. (Photo by Dellguan Coleman)

A movie based on the fourth chapter in a book written by Tony M. Jackson is his foray into storytelling via the big screen. He is directing “The Story of Randolph: The Man of the Cloth.”

The fourth chapter is one of six stories that Jackson has weaved together in the book “The Fair Shot That Was Never Given.” It is a compilation of stories about the overlooked that persistently forced their way to the top.

In a sense, Jackson has worn several hats over the years to feed his entrepreneurial ambition. He is an author, business owner, community leader, realtor and now movie director. The latter hat seems to fit the 35-year-old rather snuggly.

Clarence Randolph Scott Jr., owner of C Scott Run
Productions in Memphis, and Victoria Jones, owner of
VA Jones Films in Nashville, take a short break after
filming a scene. (Photo by Tony M. Jackson)

The book was published this year on Feb. 8. The next day Jackson decided that he wanted to transition “The Story of Randolph” into a film project and bring the story to life with a local cast.

“When people read the book, they understand it,” said Jackson, who has sold a number of copies. “But I wanted people to see it the way I wrote it.”

The operative word is see, which prompted Jackson to choose the fourth chapter for starters. “I think that’s one of the best stories in the book,” he said.

Jackson said the story is based on the life of a friend, Mynoris Woods, who, like Randolph, has had a difficult time balancing his calling as a pastor with his private life outside the church.

Woods is the assistant pastor at Cane Creek Missionary Baptist Church and owner of a janitorial company. He plays the leading role of Bishop Randolph, who is sweet on Kelly, played by Sweetrica Baker.

“It’s an excellent role,” said Woods. “To me, it helps people to better understand not to be judgmental with people with a title.”

Woods sees himself in Randolph, his mirror reflection.

“Throughout my dating life, it almost makes you hesitant to tell people you’re a pastor – not that you’re ashamed, but because people don’t always accept you for who you are (away from the pulpit).”

As the story goes, Randolph is a single man looking for love and just by happenstance runs into Kelly. He asks her out on a date and cruises in his droptop to Broadway Pizza. Everything is hunky-dory until Randolph pops in a rhythm and blues CD.

Kelly cringes, expecting perhaps Yolanda Adams or Tamela Mann. At Broadway Pizza, she orders Sprite; Randolph orders his usual – two Bud Lights. Not expecting a pastor to chug a beer, Kelly orders Randolph to take her home.

“I can identify with Kelly quite a bit,” said Baker, assistant secretary and office manager for Memphis AFLCIO. Kelly, she pointed out, is a little more flirtatious and added: “People shouldn’t have to change to be with you.”

“Pastors are under the microscope all the time,” said Jackson, a member of Breath of Life Seventh Day Adventist Church. He said Woods had discussed with him the conflict and dichotomy between the natural man and God’s servant.

“I just feel his pain,” he said. “I’m not saying the pastor should go out and drink a beer.” However, he added, “In this day and time, you are guilty by association.”

Before Jackson began production, he mentioned on the fly the storyline to Victoria A. Jones, owner of VA Jones Films in Nashville. Jones is a former client who patronized Jackson’s first business, Arlington Computers.

“She said specifically, ‘Let’s do it!’ Jackson recalls. “And I replied, ‘Well, let’s do it!’”

Jackson brought Jones onboard to direct the movie. He and his wife, Monica Jackson, backed her up as co-directors. With a film crew led by Jones, the movie slowly began to unfold.

Jackson started filming in February and expects to finish production in late summer. “I’ve seen the editing and can’t believe the quality,” he said.

While “The Story of Randolph” is not a big budget movie, Jackson nevertheless made a reasonable investment, mostly on production. The actors, he said, didn’t mind coalescing around him to produce the movie.

“We’re working with a distribution company out of Los Angeles that will get us onto the major streaming and video platforms, such as Vimeo, Amazon Prime and the popular IMDb site,” he said.

The movie trailer is scheduled to premiere online July 4 on “The Story of Randolph” Facebook page.

Jackson said both Office Depot at Wolfchase and Triumph Bank in Arlington, Tenn., offered to sponsor a private viewing in August at the Malco Cordova Cinema. The date has not been determined.

Meanwhile, Jackson is seriously thinking about making a movie or short film of the other five chapters in his book, “The Fair Shot That Was Never Given.”

He’s a little gung-ho about that possibility.

Alonzo Pendleton has carved out a legacy of his own at WDIA

Alonzo Pendleton, WDIA's chief engineer, worked 48 years at the station and
retired in late April. (Photos by Mark Stansbury Sr.)

By now most people know that WDIA AM 1070 was the first radio station in the United States in 1949 to provide programming entirely for blacks featuring black radio personalities.

Remember Theo “Bless My Bones” Wade, Nat D. Williams, Martha Jean “The Queen” Steinberg, Maurice “Hot Rod” Hulbert, Ford Nelson, A.C. “Moohah” Williams, Markhum “Mark” L. Stansbury Sr. and other black on-air radio pioneers?

They were integral to WDIA’s successful transition from country and western to urban oldies and classic soul. The latter format was conducive to the station’s output of 50,000 watts of black listening power.

But it is unlikely that the WDIA listening audience would know Alonzo Pendleton. That’s because Pendleton worked behind the scene to make sure the signal and other electronic gadgetry at the station operated at optimum levels.

WDIA luminaries (l to r): Tracey Betha, Alonzo Pendleton,
Stormy Taylor and Mark Stansbury Sr.

Pendleton was hired as an engineer in April of 1971. He retired this year in April after devoting 48 years of his life doing what he loves best.

“I started with WDIA because that was one of the things that I was good at – radio technology,” said Pendleton, a former amateur radio operator prior to joining the station.

He was in his mid-20s when good fortune knocked on his door. In fact, it was Pendleton who came knocking on WDIA’s door looking for a job after graduating from Memphis State University in 1970 with a Bachelor of Science degree in electrical engineering.

“When I graduated, it was the year that the space program was laying off thousands of engineers around the country. So the engineering field was flooded,” Pendleton recalls.

That year – 1970 – the nation’s space budget and jobs were slashed. As a result, thousands of engineers and technicians scampered to find any kind of job just to take care of their families. The aerospace industry had essentially crashed.

“I couldn’t find a job in engineering anywhere. In the Memphis area, there wasn’t anything. So I stopped telling people that I had a degree.”

It was slim pickings for engineering jobs – anywhere. Pendleton, however, forged ahead, focusing his job search instead on WDIA. Not knowing if he would get a job, he completed the application nonetheless and hoped for the best.

“The chief engineer asked me to come in one night because I kept bugging him about a job every other day or so,” Pendleton remembers.

That night, he said Henry Fones, the chief engineer, was trying to restore the power to a transmitter that had stumped Fones and his assistant. Pendleton said he had never seen the transmitter, but offered to help.

 “They could not find the problem with the transmitter,” he said.

A transmitter produces radio waves with an antenna and travels through the air at the speed of light. Electric current is then produced and sends a signal, the heartbeat of radio. If the signal fades, or dies, it could cost a radio station more than money.

“I was sitting at the desk as they worked on the transmitter, and looking at the diagram, and listening to what they were saying as they made checks and measurements.”

It then occurred to Pendleton that the capacitor in the transmitter might be the problem. He told Fones what he’d deduced, but “the chief engineer said, ‘No, it couldn’t be the capacitor.’”

The transmitter, he said, continued to baffle Fones and his assistant. “So he got frustrated and said, ‘Okay, I’ll check that capacitor.’”

Pendleton said Fones couldn’t find the capacitor in the transmitter and was sure – without a doubt – the capacitor wasn’t there.

“I argued with him and said, ‘No. It’s got to be there.’”

Pendleton was steadfast; he held his ground. Fones, however, relented and took another look. He discovered that the capacitor was indeed in the transmitter; however, it had exploded into shreds.

Fones ran home to get a capacitor, he said. “It took him about 30 minutes. He got back, put the capacitor in, and the transmitter came right up and started working.”

Pendleton had impressed Fones. His knowledge and forethought had spoken volumes about his skillset. “He said, ‘I got to have you on my team.’”

Pendleton had trudged ahead in spite of the grim job market for engineers and landed squarely on his feet at WDIA.

Over the course of his employment, Pendleton had worked with Theo “Bless My Bones” Wade, Nat D. Williams, Robert “Honey Boy” Thomas and others. They’d taken the station to new heights. Pendleton, however, provided the power – 50,000 watts.

“It was a blessing to work with them, to even know them,” said Pendleton, being modest about his own legacy and contributions to WDIA.

Management had been all white until 1972 when Charles “Chuck” Scruggs broke the color barrier. He was hired as WDIA’s general manager and vice president, the first black person to hold the position.

Scruggs had added a little color to management and understood the importance of Pendleton’s job. When the chief engineer position became vacant, Scruggs promoted Pendleton.

“You can’t get any higher than chief engineer,” said Pendleton, who had survived several buyouts during his tenure. After carving out his own legacy at WDIA, he bid farewell to iHeartMedia Inc., the station’s owner.

“I love the industry,” he said. “I actually didn’t want to retire. But you get older.”