Former KPLU general manager Martin Neeb talks about the past, present and future of his career with public radio

After more than 25 years of service to PLU, Martin Neeb retired in 2006. In January, the new Martin Neeb KPLU building will open to honor his service to PLU.

Some of Martin Neeb’s decisions in his life have been risky.

Covering a girl in gold spray paint for a radio station promotion in college.

Teaching the Playboy Philosophy to a class of future Lutheran teachers.

Approaching the president of PLU in 1983 to suggest that the campus radio station should switch from classical to jazz.

But despite these risks, however terrifying and controversial, the hard work of the former KPLU general manager will soon be cemented into Pacific Lutheran University history when the new 17,800 sq. foot, $6.1 million Martin J. Neeb Center is finished in early 2009.

The naming of the building came through a $1 million gift from his brother, Larry, but after looking at Martin Neeb’s history in media and his transformation of KPLU, you would be farfetched to find anyone else as qualified for the honor.

Getting your name on a building does not happen overnight, and in Neeb’s case, it does not happen without taking a few risks along the way.

Neeb makes his mark

Neeb’s career of pushing the envelope began in radio. Starting in 1954, Neeb learned the ins and outs of radio, doing the grunt work behind the scenes of KFUO in St. Louis.

Neeb still vividly remembers being scared to death the first time he went on air.

However, the first time went smoothly for Neeb. Afterwards, he slowly got more airtime, received press passes to cover sporting events and even met his future wife, Barbara, while at Busch Stadium covering the St. Louis Cardinals.

“Mother told me I should take her nicer places, but she loved baseball, too,” Neeb said.

Soon after his arrival to Concordia Theological Seminary, Neeb landed his own television show, “Meet the Churchman,” which featured guests from the Fellowship of Christian Athletes and the Dalai Lama.

His show was wildly popular and had many fans, but none more important for his career than James McBurney.

Neeb was highly interested in applying for Northwestern University’s doctorate communications program but his degree in the humanities did not suffice for entrance. But luckily for Neeb, McBurney, the dean of Northwestern’s Communication Department, was a huge fan of “Meet the Churchman” and took a chance on Neeb: run my radio station and the school will pay for your tuition.

Like many stations at the time, when Neeb took over Northwestern’s WNUR, it played classical music.

This changed quickly.

“The kids wanted Rock and Roll,” Neeb said. “You gotta let the kids do what they wanna do.”

That became Neeb’s rallying cry.

Thinking about his audience first and the naysayers second, Neeb’s time at WNUR transformed the station not only musically but also through outrageous promotions.

In 1964 when the James Bond movie “Gold finger” hit the big screen, Neeb conjured up a promotion that began with crushing records into a brick and having listeners guess the amount to win a prize. The prize at first was innocent, a collection of Ian Fleming novels that was peddled by an attractive woman spray-painted gold. However, after a bath in turpentine was needed to get the paint off a now very ill woman, it was back to the drawing board for Neeb and his co-workers.

Keeping his audience in mind at all times, Neeb let his co-workers run wild with promotional ideas that would draw attention to the station.

How about a night at the Playboy Club? Ok.

And a night on the town with a limo and a steak dinner? Let’s do it.

That was Neeb’s attitude and even if the administration was not on his side, he got students excited and engaged in community media.

“The Journalism Department was like the football team in popularity,” Neeb said.

Neeb’s unconventional use of Playboy to get youth engaged did not end with the promotion however. Years later when he taught at Concordia Teachers College in River Forest, he put the Playboy Philosophy in his curriculum.

“They are going to be Lutheran teachers, they are going to see a lot of this stuff,” Neeb recalls. “They should be prepared more broadly than just the Lutheran feature.”

The Playboy Philosophy was a column in Playboy Magazine that asked readers to enjoy cosmopolitan life, be freethinking, wild and interesting.

Again, the risk of pushing the envelope and getting university administrators thinking “who is this guy?” was worth it in Neeb’s mind because the students were not only fine with the style of teaching, but it got them thinking.

It would not be the last time.

Still devout in his Lutheran beliefs but wanting to continue his work in media, Neeb’s next venture took him to television.

With the new title of executive director for Lutheran Television from 1967-1978, Neeb found himself in the middle of animated programming. He struck while the iron was hot and produced animated shows geared towards children and families, none more famous than “Benji and Waldo.” Bringing in Hollywood names like Charles Nelson Reilly as voice actors, Neeb was nominated for an Emmy for an episode of “This is the Life” but went to the awards show alone because his wife did not think he was going to win.

“But we won and she jumped around the room like a pinball,” Neeb said.

PLU Days

After spending nearly 15 years in the television business, Neeb’s creative genius landed him his next job in 1981, this time at KPLU in Tacoma, Wash.

At the time, KPLU was a student-run station and financed mostly by student tuition, a fact that made Neeb apprehensive about the job opportunity.

“President Reike wanted the station off the students’ back,” Neeb said. “He needed someone to make or break this radio station.”

Neeb had doubts about leaving Los Angeles and television for a smaller, lesser-known market but the school offered something the glamour of Hollywood could not: tuition for his son and the opportunity to continue to watch him play sports.

“How could I refuse that,” Neeb said.

His new job as the executive director of university communications meant everything that left the university—brochures, radio, television—would need his approval. However, his increased influence combated with conflicting ideas about how departments in the school should produce media, making for a shaky start with some of his co-workers.

Because of this, Neeb quickly learned the politics of making everyone happy would not be easy.

One of the first things Neeb noticed about PLU was the unused expertise of the “internal stars of PLU,” the professors and administrators of the university. Neeb quickly set up a system so if the media were to contact the university for a comment on a pertinent issue, the university could quickly respond with an expert in the specific field.

Neeb’s belief in letting the professors be frank and speak their mind in an academic setting would also allow for better and quicker public relations.

“In order to stand out you must put your best foot forward and not be afraid to let it roll in a way that doesn’t stop professors to say what they want to say,” Neeb said.

The transformation of how the university handled its media was nothing compared to his vision for KPLU, the university’s radio station. Having just picked up NPR and still playing classical music, KPLU was successful but Neeb saw a chance to make it huge.

No decision during his time at PLU was more important, and risky, than the proposition he made to President Reike in 1983.

Neeb wanted KPLU to go jazz, even though he admits that he is not even really a fan of the music.

This decision was not about him. It was about playing what the audience wanted and what would be best for the university.

With his nerves turning into jellyfish as soon as he entered Reike’s office, Neeb recalls the apprehension and suspicion of the PLU president.

Asking why Neeb would want to put “the devil’s music,” as Reike called it, on air, internally he thought “Oh God, I’ll be fired,” but gathered his nerve and responded, “Because you want to engage the students.”

The risk paid off and before Neeb left the office of the president, Reike had his decision.

“He told me: ‘When that door opens, I will be beside your decision, but it better be right.’”

Neeb’s next goal was all about exposure and making KPLU a household name around the Pacific Northwest.

Neeb thought KPLU’s transmitter was not at a high enough altitude to reach enough people so he got the idea to combine antennas with his competition.

A few meetings later, KPLU was sharing a transmitter on top of Tiger Mountain and paying off the cost by revenues made from selling the four other slots on the antennae.

Soon after the switch to 2,500 feet that made KPLU’s signal stronger than ever, a new ad campaign for the station was created which asked listeners, “Does your radio station sound like this?” with the letters getting more and more fuzzy along the way.

Taking a shot at other local radio stations was a rare concept in the generally friendly business of radio but Neeb understood the need to get KPLU on the map.

Love for Neeb

These decisions, however risky, quickly gained Neeb respect from his co-workers and the PLU administration.

PLU President Loren Anderson, who has known Neeb for about16 years, sees Neeb not only as a man with tremendous vision but also as someone who was not afraid to take risks.

“(Martin) kept pushing the envelope,” Anderson said.

Anderson also recognized Neeb’s dedication to the radio station and to the community.

“Martin bleeds KPLU,” he said.

Wanting to solidify the mission of the school but also the autonomy of the radio station, Anderson worked on a statement of editorial integrity to assure Neeb and KPLU that editorial authority would always remain with the station and never end with a decision from the President’s Office.

“If the station decided to do a story criticizing private education, we would not turn out their lights,” Anderson said, summarizing the agreement.

It is also hard to find anyone he has known or worked with that does not sing his praises.

Douglas Oakman, chair of the Religion Department, respects Neeb’s transformation of KPLU and believes that justifies his name going on the new state-of-the-art KPLU building.

“As a university community, we owe Martin a lot for building a first-rate station,” Oakman said. “And it’s probably the envy of other NPR stations around the Northwest.”

Oakman also says he has Neeb to thank for being able to hear KPLU loud and clear on every family trip he takes up and down the state.

Sandra Dye, the current executive assistant at KPLU, is also a big fan of Neeb. Dye worked with Neeb for nearly 15 years and has nothing but respect for the man who brought jazz to the station.

“You couldn’t have picked a nicer man. He was a good person to work with, very fair,” Dye said.

Dye also remembers the decision Neeb made to go from classical music to jazz. Even though Dye was not a KPLU employee at the time, she was working on PLU’s campus and says she remembers thinking the decision was “a huge chance,” but “a good move.”

Despite the praise of his friends and co-workers, Neeb realizes his 25 years of service at KPLU and the success that followed would not be possible without the hard work and dedication of all its employees.

“The success story of KPLU is directly related to leadership and the entire staff,” Neeb said. “It is in the relationships of the entire staff that has produced the results. I was very fortunate to be able to hire these people.”

So what is the next risk for the man who has spent nearly 50 years challenging the status quo of media?

One thought running through Neeb’s head is to contact a local minor league baseball team and try some play-by-play, something Neeb says he is hotly pursuing.

Another is for Neeb to fulfill his lifelong dream to learn how to fly an airplane.

However, the project just around the corner combines the dynamic duo of Neeb and the radio—using his deep, baritone radio voice to read for Radio Reading Services for the Blind.

Some of Neeb’s career decisions have been risky. But when the KPLU building carrying his name is finished in spring 2009 and the sweet melodies of jazz can be heard from Vancouver, B.C. to Vancouver, Wash., there is no risk involved in applauding Martin Neeb for making it all possible.