For those of us in the news business, it’s a busy time of year: winter. You know the drill: reporters on every mountain, endless video of salt spreaders and pothole patchers, and constant reminders to protect your pipes. But by far the most cherished tradition is the school-closing list.
In our area, some say it all started with Luther Masingill, the recently deceased WDEF radio legend. I asked Luther how school closings were announced before he took the microphone in the early 1940s. He said, “I don’t think schools ever closed back then. We just walked through the snow to get there.” That answer was echoed by others, like the late principal Jack Benson. “We didn’t close much,” he said. “Most of the schools were in the neighborhoods. Some of us had to walk a mile or two, but if they had heat, they had school. If they didn’t, you’d turn around and walk back home.”
Another former principal, 88-year-old Bill Eldridge, said he would hold classes for whoever showed up. “If you couldn’t make it, or the bus couldn’t get to your house, we didn’t count you absent back then,” he said. “The schools got money from the state based on attendance, so we would lose money if they counted all the absences.”
But eventually, schools started closing, and superintendents learned the quickest way to spread the news was to call Luther and other radio deejays. (There was little TV activity until the 1970s, as local morning newscasts were either brief or non-existent.) The busiest days of Luther’s career included nonstop phone calls, with school officials trying to get through. At the same time, thousands of kids were calling to ask if their school was closed. Luther would compile an alphabetical list, meaning the poor kids of Walker and Whitfield counties would have to sit tight as he waded through the Bradleys and the Dades.
When I got into radio, I quickly learned the rules. Be nice to all the callers, read the closings on-air frequently, and keep a radio nearby tuned into Luther because the school officials always called him first. It was also important to make sure no one was tricking us. Sometimes a bold 7th grader would call in, attempt to lower his voice, and say, “This is Mr. Elliott from Dade County. All schools is closed today.” I’d say, “Uh, really, Mr. Elliott? I’m a little busy right now, could you give me your phone number so I could call you right back?” (Pause) “Click!” Busted. We had to be creative in the pre-caller ID days.
Later, TV got into the act. The two-hour morning newscasts allowed plenty of time to show a list of closings. It also inspired a few other pranksters. One morning someone called my station, asking us to add “Anthony’s House of Cheese” to the list. A producer, flooded with legitimate calls, dutifully took down the information and entered it into the computerized list. For several hours, right at the top of the business closing list, was “Anthony’s House of Cheese,” which of course, didn’t exist. So all day, some guy was laughing away, watching this go out on TV to hundreds of thousands of people. We tightened up after that. Although frankly, as a cheese lover, I think someone should start a House of Cheese.
Today, Facebook is a popular source of information. When the weather becomes an issue, people flock to news outlets' Facebook pages for updated school closings. No matter how clear the information may be, there are constant misunderstandings. As soon as the first school closing is announced, there's an immediate flood of "What about my school?" questions, as if we're holding something back. And we’ve learned that many people misread “Chattooga” County in northwest Georgia, assuming it is “Chattanooga” County in Tennessee, which does not exist. Unfortunately, not everyone is aware of that.
In my ideal world, one day if it’s really, really snowy, and truly every school is closed, I’d like to issue this statement: “We are announcing with 100% certainty, that EVERY SINGLE SCHOOL in the universe will be closed today. This includes all schools in every city, every town, every county, public, private, boarding, religious, home, charter, technical, elementary, middle, high, colleges, junior colleges, universities, online, virtual, vocational, medical, dental, barber, beauty, business, GED, adult, preschool, pre-K, kindergarten, nursery, driving, Sunday School, Vacation Bible, and even schools of fish. Every one of them, in every state, in every commonwealth, in every nation, on every continent, on every planet will be closed today. There are no exceptions. Enjoy your day off, everyone!”
Within a few seconds, I guarantee someone would ask, “But what about MY school?”
(From David Carroll's ChattanoogaRadioTV.com)