Walter M Windsor - Life Story: Forks in the Road

Forks in the Road: Chapter 16

THE SECOND TIME AROUND

Comco, Inc. was the radio station company I had formed in conjunction with Jim Robinson, who had been president of Comint and its principal delegate on the Channel 9 board. Almost all of the other stockholders were formerly involved in WFTV. Comco took over part of the former SFN office space, and I set about acquiring additional small stations. We had started with an AM-FM combination in Venice, Florida, followed by daytime AMs in Inverness and in Pine Castle, an Orlando suburb. Later we acquired a three-station group in Alabama, comprising Huntsville, Sheffield and Arab. I had a good tip that an almost extinct FM in Crystal River, Florida, could be re-located, tower-wise, so as to serve the twin markets of Gainesville and Ocala. We effected this purchase and the ensuing improvement. Soon Venice was doing fairly well, and Gainesville was on the air with spectacular results, but the others were in miserable shape. Musical taste became a factor, as I tried to program most of these stations to feature “real music,” but this attracted only a senior-citizen audience, which most advertising buyers regarded as undesirable and not possessing any “disposable income.” We thought we had a brilliant idea in making WWLD (“Radio World”) in Orlando a “visitor information station.” But when Disney World would not pay for advertising, the smaller prospects wouldn’t go along, so the idea died in short order and WWLD joined the “real music” stations.

The Gainesville station, WKTK, was the only rock-and-roll type of station, and the only one that really succeeded. After some unhappy experiences with the problems of long-distance management and other frustrations, the Comco investors decided to sell the stations and get out of the radio business. I had not produced the ”miracles” they were led to expect from me based on my work at Channel 9.

Unfortunately, WKTK sold first, and the others were a constant drain until they were finally sacrificed. Had WKTK been kept till the last, it would have supported the others in the meanwhile. In fact, its new owners have enjoyed a large audience and successful business ever since.

A few of the Comco investors thought some unkind things and spoke some unkind words about me as a result of the radio experience. But most of them weighed these slight losses against what I had been able to accomplish for them at Channel 9 and remain my friends today, particularly Robinson, whom I greatly admire.

Walter's 50th High School Reunion.

It was about this time (early summer 1986) that I decided to attend the 50^th reunion of my high school graduating class in Long Beach. I had only attended one previously, the fortieth, and I looked forward to again seeing some of my friends of long ago. I thought of graduation night and the diploma I didn’t receive, and I had a brainstorm. I called my accountant and asked him what $100 as of 1936 would be worth, with passbook interest, after fifty years. The figure was approximately $1,200. I took a check with me, presented it to the current principal at the banquet, and was in turn awarded my diploma. It was quite an event, covered by press and broadcast media. It made me feel very good, and I am probably more proud of that diploma than anyone else on earth is of his or hers.

One day I was having lunch in an Orlando restaurant when in walked Joe Brechner. We had a pleasant conversation; then, when we began to leave, he tried to pay my check. I declined, saying I had eaten many a lunch at his expense over the years. To my amazement, standing there at the checkout counter, he proceeded to tell me that I was one of the best things that ever happened to him, that he might never have let someone else run the station otherwise, and that he appreciated what I had accomplished. He died soon thereafter.

Our family has always continued its tradition of making a big thing out of Christmas. I know it is a big thing to most every family, but for us it was huge. This particular Christmas, 1986, Marty gave me a strangely-shaped package. When I opened it, I found a trombone. I was mystified.

“You’re the man who has everything," she explained, "and you’re so hard to buy for. I remembered that when I was a little girl you once said you had always wanted to play the trombone, so here it is!"

What a surprise it was! I was able to make a noise with it, from my early days as bugler, but I had no idea how to play anything on it other than bugle calls. I had the conception that you just moved the slide back and forth and the notes went higher or lower; I soon found it was a lot more complicated than that.

An orchestra leader and trombonist at Disney World, Dick Fote, had called me to locate some music for him and wanted to do me a favor in return. I told him the story of my trombone, and he expressed the thought that he could teach me enough that I could play one simple tune for an upcoming party. The tune he provided was Once in a While, which was a very popular ballad in my youth that I had always enjoyed singing. It had a limited range and fairly easy execution on the slide in the key Dick proposed. He wrote out the instructions, and I began to practice. When the day of the party arrived, I could play one chorus of the song through without a hitch. Now I didn’t sound much like Jack Teagarden or Tommy Dorsey, but I could play the song.

I wanted it to be a surprise, but I confided in Armand Marchesano, who was playing trumpet in the jam session that evening. The plan was for me, at the end of a band number, to walk in holding the trombone.

As planned, Armand said, “Why, Walter, I didn’t know you played the trombone!”

“Oh, yes, I play once in a while.”

Then I did.

Trouble was that the gag was so successful and everyone was laughing so hard, including the trombonist, that it came out a mess. Fote was present at the party and complimented me, but pointed out that I was playing the horn left-handed. Turns out that, not knowing exactly how to hold it, I had looked up a picture of Tommy Dorsey in action, which, like a mirror, was in reverse, and I had copied his stance! Of course, after all the guests left, I picked up the horn and played it perfectly. But I haven’t played it since.

Professionally, I still didn’t give up and gracefully accept retirement; I had one more effort in me. At a broadcasting convention, I visited with John Tyler, who was head of Satellite Music Network. John had been a TV salesman for me in Texarkana, and we had remained friends through the years. His company provided several different types of music via satellite to radio stations all over the country. One of his formats, known as Stardust, presented my kind of music, and it was employed for the principal musical content of four of the Comco stations. While we visited, discussing the great success SMN had enjoyed in radio, John wondered why we could not do something similar in television, the concept involving the station ceding a certain amount of commercial time to the network in exchange for the program service.

Star Television Network

This intrigued me, and John and I set about to find backing for such a venture. We enlisted another former employee of mine, Harry Handley, who had been promotion manager at WFTV and now was in a highly computerized audience research firm in Orlando. Harry and I invested money and our labors. Tyler contributed the basic concept and the record of SMN, and we created a business plan designed to locate a suitable financial backer and enable us to put the plan into action. I became president of the Star Television Network. It was very professionally organized and presented, but each time we thought we had a big one on the hook, it got away. Finally we aroused the interest of Dale Lang, who was a magazine publisher and had owned half of Time Magazine, among other properties. He agreed to take over the financing of the effort and carry it to an operational level. Studios and offices were designed to occupy quarters at Universal Studios Florida.

There were a number of factors that doomed this arrangement. First, the basic idea was either too late or too early. Our prospective station affiliates were operators of struggling new stations and holders of permits for new stations. These were thought by us to be aspiring broadcasters. We found out that most of them were just looking to obtain buyers and make a killing from their permits. The Fox Network was just cranking up, and gobbled up many of the most promising stations. And it turned out that Lang and his associates were very interested in what has become known as the “infomercial” type of TV advertising. Their plan for Star Network was to alter its original concept, which would have provided a variety of entertainment programming, to be principally or totally “infomercials.”

We reached the point where I could no longer work within this structure, so I gave up my interest in exchange for indemnification against any future claims on Star TV. They put it on the air under their concept with only a handful of stations, and it collapsed and went dark after thirteen weeks. I have been very grateful for my indemnification.

Walter's home in Orange Tree.

Somewhere in the late eighties I had become dissatisfied with the condominium in which I was living, and in the fall of 1985 I bought a home in a subdivision called Orange Tree, in the southwestern part of Orlando It was a sizable home, but it was a wonderful venue for entertaining and it had plenty of room and wall space for my many shelves of books and records, collections that had grown rapidly. Finally, I gave in to the “Computer Age” and acquired a PC, with which I catalogued my music library. I had come to enjoy being a host with the parties at Cypress Creek, and the new home, which quickly adopted the Windsor Castle nickname, enabled the parties to grow bigger and better, attracting many of the best musical and performing talent in the area.

By this time, my record collection had grown into a huge library, lining the walls with 78s, 45s, LPs, reel-to-reel tapes, cassettes, 8-tracks and compact discs, all catalogued in my computer. I have always been a big fan of the two greatest male popular singers of our times, Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra. I set out to amass everything recorded by these two superstars. Eventually I acquired everything Sinatra had ever recorded commercially, as well as many items from concerts, radio and television, totaling more than 1,500 different performances. I belong to three different Sinatra organizations, and I have had articles published in the journal of the International Sinatra Society. The Crosby output is more difficult, both in quantity and because of the majority being in the era of the 78 rpm record; but I have nearly 1,500 of Bing’s songs.

I had also begun to acquire sheet music, which began with my wish to have copies of those songs which I enjoyed singing, but soon escalated into a full-blown collecting hobby. I had a nice office in my new home, where all this music was carefully stored and catalogued. I became a source of music information for the Central Florida area. Even Walt Disney World and the Orlando Public Library would call on me for information, and I enjoyed the challenges and the people I was enabled to meet through this activity. I became a member of the National Academy of Popular Music, which operates the Songwriters Hall of Fame; of the National Sheet Music Society, The New York Sheet Music Society, and the Society of Singers. I enjoyed attending the annual bash of the NYSMS, where I had the privilege of meeting many great composers and lyricists such as Mitchell Parish, Gerald Marks, Ervin Drake, Betty Comden, and Jack Lawrence.

In cataloguing my collections, cross-indexed by title, production, year and writers, I found the essential information difficult to find. Although sheet music was mostly correct, the record covers, album jackets, etc., often failed to show any facts about the songs and frequently had incorrect information. I began to acquire books to assist me in this regard. By the time I reached six dozen books, I decided there was no single reliable source. Since I now had over half of the data in my possession, I decided I would proceed to create a data base covering all popular music of any consequence from 1920 to 1960, with some provision for “perennials” from before the twenties and some titles deserving of the “standard” designation from 1960 forward. I planned to publish a book, entitled The Song Book - a Directory of Standard Popular Music in America.

I struck out with enough publishers to realize I was not going to be successful in getting the book on the market. I then tried to develop the data base into a CD-ROM, with the added feature of showing the sheet music covers and playing excerpts from some of the songs. This project has seen several encouraging prospects come and go. There are current indications that it may yet become a reality. In the meanwhile, I have the satisfaction of knowing that I have in my exclusive possession what I believe to be the most complete fact source on this type of music in existence.

In the fall of 1992, I subscribed to Prodigy, an interactive computer service, and discovered the Nostalgia Music bulletin board on that service. Through this I have “met” many people with whom I share musical interests, and hardly a day goes by that I have not been in touch with this amazing “family” of congenial folks. We got together for what we called “reunions” in Florida annually in 1993 through 1995, and I hosted parties for the group in the latter two of these years. The get-togethers have ceased, at least temporarily, but I have made many new and lasting friendships through Prodigy and Nostalgia Music, and I continue to enjoy this association

In 1989 I made a trip to the Far East. First I flew to Sydney, Australia, where I enjoyed a nice visit with Meg and her family. Then I sailed on the Queen Elizabeth II from Sydney to Bangkok, Bali, Singapore, and Hong Kong. I was a member of a group of theater buffs, sponsored by the prestigious Theatre Guild, and special events aboard ship for our group included interaction with famous theatrical people, including Mary Martin, Richard Kiley, Barry Nelson, Helen Hayes, James Whitmore, Larry Kert, Juliet Prowse, and Patricia Neal. This was a delightful experience, particularly being able to sit down and chat with Mary and Helen, both of whom passed away not long after the trip. Kert and Prowse have also died since then. The cruise was marred for me by a virus, acquired in Australia, which got gradually worse until I was very ill in Hong Kong. My itinerary returning home called for me to stop over a few days in San Francisco, but I had to fly to Orlando as quickly as possible, to learn from my doctor there that the medications given me on shipboard and in Hong Kong were probably the worst possible things that could have been prescribed. He had me back in good shape in a few days.

Wendy Windsor married Harvey Harper, III on December 5, 1987.

Wendy continued her weekly visits to emulate “Mrs. Clean,” and soon after she became Mrs. Harvey Harper III. Harvey had been one of her instructors at UCF and she had endeared herself to the teacher by baking him a cake. One thing led to another, and on December 5, 1987 we had a wedding. The ceremony was in the chapel at Rollins College and brought a great gathering of the clan. Wendy became a stepmother to Harvey’s son and daughter, Harvey IV (“Chip”) and Amber.

Nicholas Andrew Harper became Walter's third grandchild on September 16, 1988. Amber, Wendy, Harvey, Nicholas, and Chip in the hospital.

Soon, on her weekly visits, she was bringing with her my new grandson, Nicholas Andrew Harper, born September 16, 1988. This gave me an opportunity to watch him grow as he learned to walk and talk, as he attended pre-school and kindergarten. He has a rare combination of genes from the Harpers and the Windsors, and his growth and development are a constant source of fascination and wonderment to his Grandpa.

When the nation celebrated Irving Berlin’s 100^th birthday in May 1988, I threw a birthday party. Irving was invited, but of course he did not attend. He didn’t even make it to his formal centennial at Carnegie Hall in New York. But I was there, enjoying the celebration. The party at my home was a great success, with a large group of musicians and singers spending the entire evening performing songs by Berlin. Only performers were invited.

Two years later was the centennial for another great writer of songs, Cole Porter, and we held a similar party. This resulted in the songwriter centennials being observed every year since, usually in mid-July. We have since done Lorenz Hart, Oscar Hammerstein, Jerome Kern, and Harry Warren. In 1996, we split the honors among five writers with centennial anniversaries that year - E.Y. Harburg, Harry Woods, Howard Dietz, Ray Henderson, and Nacio Herb Brown. The names may not be that familiar to many people, but the list of hit songs of each of these is most imposing. We’ve now celebrated the Gershwin brothers for 1997 (Ira was born in 1896, George in 1898), and have optimistically earmarked certain other lyricists and composers for future years. This annual event continues to be held only for the musicians and singers, except, of course, for their spouses or dates. We enjoy entertaining ourselves.

Funeral of Rosalie Johnson, Walter's mother-in-law.

In February of 1991, all of us made a sad pilgrimage to Danville for the funeral of Rose Johnson. She had lived ninety years and was beloved to a great many people, over and above having raised a large family of her own. When Mary and I paid off the mortgage on the Schoolfield house, it was with the understanding that her parents could live there the rest of their lives, after which it would become Steve’s. So at that point, Uncle Steve became a home-owner.

Walter and Barbara visit Stratford-upon-Avon.

Billy had begun a new employment situation with a publishing company and was located in Chester, England. Brittany was at Vanderbilt University in Nashville; Ryan attended a boarding school just outside London. I enjoyed a visit to England in April of 1993, seeing some of the sights including Stratford-on-Avon, where Barbara and I went to Wiiliam Shakespeare’s home, the Royal Shakespeare Theater, and his grave. Tony came over for part of the time and was able to play golf on a historic course in Wales. We made a theater excursion to see the show Blood Brothers, and found ourselves eating Mexican food in the heart of London.

Marty Windsor married Steve Shultz on November 26, 1993.

Wedding bells rang for the family again on November 26, 1993 when Marty tied the knot with Steven Shultz. In order to be present for the Saturday ceremony, most or all of the out-of-town guests had to be in Orlando over Thanksgiving, so I had the pleasure of hosting a very large Thanksgiving dinner in the Orange Tree clubhouse. The wedding ceremony was held at the Mission Inn in Howey-in-the-Hills, about sixty miles northeast of Orlando. It was a beautiful and appropriate spot, and the all-day rain kindly let up just long enough for the outdoor wedding. Marty had attended the University of South Florida, then returned to Orlando to finish up her degree at UCF. She and Steve were both in computer work, and their merger was happy news for all of us.

With the exception of the occasional parties and family gatherings, life for me at Orange Tree grew quite solitary. I was again a non-golfer living in a golf course community. My days in the dating game had pretty well come to an end and I had given up ever making Mary’s prophecy come true. Wendy continued to come once a week to do my routine housekeeping, which was a great help. After Nicholas was born, he shared in this weekly visit, and I always enjoyed that. Occasionally, other members of the family would visit, usually on birthdays or holidays. But as a whole I lived with my books, my records, my music, and my computer. All this solitude, plus the headaches and expense of maintaining the home, weighed heavily on me, to the point in late 1995 that I began to be interested in the possibility of entering a retirement center.

This would give me interaction with other people of my generation, some of whom would surely share some of my interests. I would have medical care close at hand as the health problems of aging increased. I would no longer eat out of the microwave oven, which I had done for most of the previous eighteen years. I would no longer have all the responsibilities and obligations involved in home ownership, or the many expenses thereof. I began looking into such installations in the Central Florida area. I wasn’t interested in moving away from the Greater Orlando orbit, taking considerable pride that I now had lived in that community for over twenty-six years, longer than I had ever stayed in one place in my life. As a matter of fact, I had been eleven years in the Orange Tree house, and that was the longest I had lived in the same dwelling in my entire lifetime!

While studying what several retirement communities had to offer, I told my offspring what I had in mind. I’m afraid that they were quite negative on the idea, apparently having heard some horror stories about what had happened to some senior citizens who entered such installations. I assured them that the ones I was considering had no such problems or disadvantages. Billy and Tony decided they wanted to see for themselves. I had narrowed it down to six locations, and had visited and looked quite thoroughly into each one. Billy came from Cleveland, Ohio, where he was now located. Tony came from Chattanooga, where he had been employed for several years as News Director of a station and most recently in operating his own business called “News Directions.” The boys and I visited each of the six places for a tour, a sample meal, and a question-and-answer session. They were well prepared with questions, even to the point that Billy created a computer form that rated each of the places on about a hundred different criteria. We spent a week making the six visits.

All three of us pretty well narrowed it down to just two places, Village on the Green in Longwood, an immediate northern suburb of Orlando, and John Knox Village in Deland, about 25 miles further north. Each had its strong points, and there were no real negatives on either one. It was my choice to make, but at that time any objections the kids might have had were totally diffused. They were completely impressed with the locations, and the boys passed the information along to their sisters, who became similarly enthused. Obviously none of them was going to have to take Grandpa in! The boys thought I was leaning toward John Knox, but the scale was tilted by the greater proximity to Orlando, and I chose Village on the Green, the one they had preferred.

It was a major financial decision, because it involved paying a large non-refundable entry fee and tying up the greatest part of my “nest egg,” which was doing nicely in mutual funds, for the “membership,” which amounts to a license for lifetime occupancy of the living quarters. This is recoverable if for any reason you leave, or at your death to your estate, since your “membership” is then sold to the new occupant and you or your estate receives the proceeds.

The center includes facilities for independent living, assisted living, and for nursing home care in the “Health Center.” The very capable sales representative, Peggy Clem, was able to come up with what is called a “villa,” which amounts to a separate dwelling, built in quadruplex. It has a large living room, a dining room, a master bedroom with bath, a second bedroom which I made into my office, a “study” which I converted into a guest bedroom, a guest bath, kitchen, and garage. And, best of all, by finding a villa in the middle of a quadruplex, instead of on one end or the other, I obtained a great deal of wall space to accommodate my books, records, music files, and computer, as well as providing space to display awards and pictures which document my life and career. The extra windows would be nice, but the wall space was of greater importance to me.

Village on the Green - July 11, 1996.

Accordingly, with the invaluable help of two sons, two daughters, one daughter-in-law and two sons-in-law, I moved into Villa 545 on Village on the Green on July 11, 1996. The die was cast.

Fork #15.