SCREAMER

THE FORGOTTEN VOICE OF THE PITTSBURGH STEELERS

RODEO WEDDING

One memorable remote occurred at Duquesne Gardens.  As publicity for the Buffalo Bill Cody rodeo that came to Pittsburgh every year, a couple was going to be married at the center of the arena. Walt Sickles, Program Director who succeeded Frank Smith, sent engineer Hank Kaiser and me to cover this “news” story, the marriage of Cowgirl Jane to Cowboy Tom.

I helped Hank through the narrow press gate and into the Gardens. The arena had that barnyard smell that I escaped in my youth. It was intermission. As Hank set up, I sought out the bride and groom. The groom was not available as he had just ridden a bronco and was nursing a sore bottom, but I did find Jane.

Jane was barely dressed. She was wearing a bra and panties and was totally unconcerned that the men were gawking at her.  We were in the area behind the stalls, and I was wearing a portable transmitter to Hank’s console in the center. I started the interview asking the usual questions.  Where are you from? Why are you in the rodeo? Isn’t it somewhat unusual to get married in the middle of a smelly arena? I must admit it was difficult not to stare.

Jane was from Texas, and spoke like it. She joined the rodeo because, she claims, she can best any man in roping and riding. Then she blurted out, “Unusual? Do you think I’m nuts gettin’ hitched like this?”

Then to answer her own question she said, “Tom and me gets hitched in every town. Do you think this is for real? Do you think I’m crazy? Why watch him. He can’t stay up for more than a few seconds, while I am firm and can hold on for hours if they’d let me.”

So this was another of Sickles Follies.  Was the station (or Sickles) getting paid for airing this stunt? Why had he insisted that I be party to this charade? I never got the answers. Sickles was fired soon after this fiasco.

The wedding was more fun than ceremony. We were wrapping up our various cords, standing in the middle of the arena when the bull riding started. First out was Tom on a fierce bull that threw him unceremoniously on his kiester, probably ruining any chance of children with Jane or whomever?

What’s worse, we were in direct sight of that monster. Being a boy from the country and knowing what a bull could do to man and manhood, I threw the microphone at Hank and took off for the chicken wire fence that protected the public.  Climbing like a felon with cops in hot pursuit, my big feet grabbing then slipping, I hoisted myself over and onto some startled spectator.  Turning I watched a frozen Hank Kaiser, the mike in his left hand, the remote cables in his right, and a bull looking straight at him, pawing the ground and snorting.  Just as the bull began his charge, two rodeo clowns stepped in front of Hank and diverted the bull’s gaze.  The new object of the bull’s attraction made for the wooden gate of the chute, diving head first into the empty bin. Hank made for the exit.