Grady Reeves

The Old Man from the Mountain

Once upon a time, a cherub, known as the Littlest Angel, came into Paradise. He was exactly four years, six months, five days, seven hours, and forty-two minutes old when he came to the kingdom of God.

Every Christmas, the mellow voice of Grady Reeves could be heard throughout the Tennessee Valley, reading Charles Tazewell’s The Littlest Angel to children through the airwaves from radio station WBHP. It was a Christmas tradition he started over half a century ago, and children everywhere tuned in to hear many wonderful holiday stories.

Grady Reeves was born in Carrollton, Georgia, and came to Huntsville, Alabama, in 1947 from Cincinnati, Ohio. In Cincinnati, he had finished his schooling and enrolled in the seminary. His father was furious when he dropped out and took a job doing “the devil’s work”—radio. Grady put Rosemary Clooney on the air before her golden voice made her famous worldwide. He was hired in Huntsville by Milton Cummings and Joe Foster to call professional baseball games and high school sports. His career in the Tennessee Valley would far surpass the broadcast of local sports, and it would span more than four decades. Huntsville was in the heart of the Sunny South and was about to explode onto the scene of the worldwide race to space.

Grady’s son Robert, who works at WHNT Channel 19 like his father did, recalls a few of the many funny stories from his days of accompanying Grady to local football games. One bitterly cold fall night, Huntsville’s Butler High School was playing against Coffee High School in nearby Florence. The press box was so small that out-of-town reporters had to call the game from the roof. No problem. The local fire department sent their truck out and raised the ladder up to the roof for Grady and Robert, who was a little sprite of about six or seven, to climb up onto the roof.

As the game went on, the night air got colder, and Robert was bundled up in a team member’s parka to cut the chill. Their warm breath curled out into the frosty night air. The temperature continued to drop, and Robert was lowered to the ground to sit with the team as he shivered in the icy wind. Grady was too busy calling the game to notice the cold, and in spite of the weather, he was even perspiring because he became so animated in the thrill of the game. It soon got so cold that Grady froze to his chair!

The game was finally over. The Butler High team gathered up its belongings to board the bus for Huntsville. There was a problem for Grady though—during the course of the game, the fire department had received a call to put out a fire and left him stranded on the roof of the press box. The Butler team members stayed with Grady and Robert as long as they could. Though they couldn’t help the situation, the boys wanted to keep them company. But the bus was waiting, and the team had to go home to worried parents. Fortunately for Grady and Robert, the fire was finally extinguished, and the ladder truck returned to bring Grady down.

Even though he was very young, Robert became the spotter for Butler’s football team and helped Grady in that capacity at all their games. The spotter’s job was to identify players by pointing to their names on a list as the play was being made to help the announcer describe the play more thoroughly. It was customary that the opposing team provide a spotter to help Grady relay its information over the radio as well. One night, Butler was playing Cullman High School in Cullman, and Grady explained to the young man representing Cullman’s team that they were working with an open microphone. It was live radio, and he needed to be mindful of his language on the air.

The game commenced, and the Rebels were beating the Bearcats like a drum. Suddenly, the Cullman fullback burst through the line and was running hell bent for leather toward the goal line. In his excitement, the young Cullman spotter blurted out, “Look at that sonofabitch go!”

He immediately tried to pull the words back, but it was too late. The two boys, Robert and the Cullman spotter, turned to Grady for some dreaded response. Grady wasn’t talking. He had fallen backward off his stool and was lying flat on his back laughing so hard his whole body was shaking. It took a few minutes for him to collect himself, and when he did, he leaned into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, due to technical difficulties, we have been off the air. Our apologies to our listeners.”

Grady was broadcasting the play by play of a particularly exciting Alabama football game one night for the University of Alabama. It was a close game, with time winding down, and the Tide was backed up deep in its own territory. Suddenly, the quarterback for Alabama burst through the line headed for pay dirt. Grady was so excited that he lost his composure and began to shout into the microphone.

“And there he goes! Across the forty-, the fifty-, the sixty-, the seventy-yard line!” During those dramatic moments of the game, he leaned out of the window for a closer look, and suddenly the enunciation in his voice changed. Grady’s pearly whites had fallen out of his mouth and dropped down into the crowd below.

Although he was torn between diving after them and finishing the game, Grady felt he had no choice but to finish the broadcast sans his front teeth. He waited until the crowd cleared before he went into the stands to retrieve his partial. No reaction was recorded, however, from the startled spectator who was clobbered by Grady’s front teeth in the heat of the Tide’s victory.

Huntsvillians of a certain age will remember the Holiday House, a restaurant near the present intersection of Governors Drive and the Parkway. On top was a glass booth where Grady would broadcast live for WBHP. It was a popular hangout for teenagers who would park their cars, drive-in style, facing Grady. He would lower a galvanized metal milk bucket down a long rope, and listeners would leave scribbled music requests for him to pull up and play. It was not unusual for Grady to make a typical announcement that “Joe Smith’s mother just called and said you need to go home now and finish your homework.” In a few minutes, a car would start up, lights would come on and someone would drive off, presumably to finish his homework.

Grady had many friends and, on occasion, a few enemies as well. Shorty Ogle was the head football coach in Decatur and, through some sort of disagreement, took a sudden and intense disliking to Grady. Neither could remember what the falling out was about, but by then, the reason had become irrelevant.

One night, Huntsville’s Butler team was in Decatur playing the Red Raider football team. Grady and Robert went to call the game for broadcast on WBHP, but Shorty barred them from the press box. Although it was customary to let the radio announcers in for no charge, Shorty Ogle made sure that Grady bought two tickets and went in with the public. There was only one place they could set up to broadcast, however, thanks to Shorty, and it was their misfortune to sit right next to the Decatur High School band. The band was great but just a tad loud for background on a radio broadcast. To make matters worse, Shorty Ogle instructed the bandleader to start playing music every time Grady opened his mouth. Both men were stubborn as mules and determined to irritate the other, but in the end, the two men buried the hatchet and became great friends.

Over the many years of his professional career, Grady also worked at WFUN, WNDA and WAAY Radio in Huntsville. He also did football play by plays for the University of Alabama in 1956–57 and hired the legendary John Forney as his color man. Forney would become the Tide’s play-by-play man for over thirty years. Grady turned to television in 1961, going to work for WAFG-TV Channel 31 as news director and anchor. In 1962, however, he made the mistake of mentioning, on air, his good friend L.D. Wall, who was running for reelection as sheriff. It was a costly mistake, and Grady lost his job at WAFG.

It may have been the best mistake he ever made, however, because not long after Grady found his home at WHNT Channel 19. He was the first employee hired—six months before there was a WHNT—and was one of three who opened the first show on Thanksgiving Day 1963. The nation was still mourning the tragic loss of President John Kennedy, and his death was still in the headlines the week after his assassination. It was a bittersweet broadcast for Grady and the others on that memorable day.

Grady was called on to cover many events that were uncomfortable, to say the least. Channel 19 videographer Dion Hose remembered that he went with Grady to cover a Ku Klux Klan rally one night. Dion had just started his job; he was young and he was very worried. Grady told him that he would be safe with him and everything would be all right. As a young black man, Dion had every reason to be afraid that night, but he soon learned that as long as he was with Grady, he could go anywhere.

Grady’s Albertville, Alabama friends, photographer Robert O. Johnson and realtor Fred Taylor, remember that about once a week while he was on the air at WHNT Channel 19, Grady would announce that he was meeting them for lunch that day and give the place and time. If Robert O. and Fred missed the broadcast, someone always called to pass the message on. However, there was no possible way they could enjoy a private lunch together because hundreds of other people who also saw the broadcast wanted to see Grady Reeves in person, get his autograph and maybe even take a picture. But Grady loved it as much as Robert O. and Fred hated it. The owner of one restaurant asked Grady to stop announcing their lunch at his restaurant because he could not handle the hordes of people lined up outside to see Grady.

When Robert O. was in a Birmingham hospital with a serious illness, Grady would announce his progress daily for viewers. Even those who didn’t know Robert O. were tuning in for updates on his condition. If Grady missed a day announcing his progress, he got phone calls of inquiry. Everyone was relieved when Robert O. was finally released from the hospital.

Grady, Robert O. and Fred were driving around Boaz one day when a car with those dreaded flashing blue lights appeared in the rearview mirror. Fred, who was driving, pulled over and stopped. The three waited patiently as one of Boaz’s finest approached their car for a little chat. Robert O. and Fred thought they could talk their way out of the situation by pointing to the celebrity in their car and asking smugly, “Do you know who he is?”

Apparently, the officer was not a fan of morning television, and he even made “the celebrity” ride in the car with him while Fred and Robert O. were instructed to follow the police cruiser to the jail. Fortunately for them, the mayor of Boaz was a fan of morning television. When asked about the few hours they spent at the Boaz City Jail, all Robert O. offers by way of explanation is, “Fred was driving.”

Grady Reeves carved a niche for himself in the Tennessee Valley. On air, he referred to himself as “the Old Man from the Mountain” while those who knew him called him “Uncle Grady.” Every morning, before he drove to the television station, he stopped by Eunice Merrill’s restaurant on Andrew Jackson Way to make sure she made it to work safely. He would then go to the station to prepare for his show, Mornin’ Folks. Until his last show on May 31, 1991, he signed off with the words: “There’s always something going on at Mornin’ Folks, and so am I.”

Grady would sign off in the mornings and begin his rounds in the Tennessee Valley. He put an average of fifty thousand miles on his car every year, and he knew people far and wide. He made frequent visits to special-needs children and elderly people in nursing homes and always talked about them on the air. He went every year to the Birdie Thornton School for handicapped children to videotape the kids. In the course of his rounds, he would stop at country stores to get the latest gossip. He also spoke to farmers toiling in their fields, getting their advice and updates so he could report the latest weather or crop news to his viewers.

Keith Lowhorne, former director of news operations at WHNT, recalled that Grady took him under his wing when he started at the station as a high school senior in 1974. Grady would leave notes for Keith, telling him what time to meet him at the station. Wherever they went, Grady always drove and dispensed fatherly advice to the young man along the way. Grady would not tell Keith what kind of adventure he had planned for them, but Keith could count on the two of them doing some serious table grazing wherever they went.

On one occasion, Grady told Keith that they had to empty the trunk of his navy blue Caprice Classic before they could leave. It was no small task, considering the car had been fitted with heavy-duty springs to hold the treasures stored in Grady’s trunk. The lid was opened, and out came fishing poles and tackle. They unloaded rain gear, several sets of clothing and video cameras. Shoes, still cameras, film of every kind and golf clubs were dug out as well. Finally, the trunk was empty, and they could begin their odyssey. Grady loved gospel music, and on that day, they had been invited to a country church for a “singing.” Still, Keith wondered about the empty car trunk. At the conclusion, everyone gathered for lots of southern comfort food. As Grady and Keith started to leave, they were followed to the car with armloads of food. Fried chicken, potato salad, slaw, corn bread and every kind of dessert imaginable was packed tightly into the trunk. Keith made the ride home balancing a cake and pie in his arms because the trunk was too full.

In the 1980s, Grady spent several days in Huntsville Hospital. A bus pulled up into the parking lot, and several young men with longish hair hopped off and went inside to call on Grady. They walked the halls looking for his room, and pretty soon, the small entourage began to pick up strays and, finally, a crowd. They got to Grady’s room but were soon asked to leave by concerned nurses because of the commotion their presence was beginning to cause. The friendly boys from Fort Payne left after paying their respects to Grady. Those friendly boys were, of course, the country singing sensation that goes by the name Alabama.

One of the charities Grady supported wholeheartedly was the Muscular Dystrophy Association. He was the original host of the local Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon on WHNT, a tradition he upheld for ten years before turning it over to his son, Robert, and WHNT anchor Jerry Hayes. In those days, the hosts worked twenty-four hours straight, asking viewers to pledge money for continued research. The long hours and emotional turmoil of losing children to MD began to take a physical toll on him. In 1989, he emceed his last telethon. To this day, people still call in pledges to the annual Muscular Dystrophy Telethon in Grady’s memory. Robert has carried on Grady’s tradition for over twenty-nine years as Channel 19 continues to host the annual Labor Day Telethon, a fundraiser for research money to find a cure for muscular dystrophy.

Robert co-hosted Mornin’ Folks with his father for the last ten years, but the original format of the show ended with Grady’s retirement. Grady’s health was questionable at best, and he died in August 1991.

Many newcomers to the area tuned in to watch Grady on television only to wonder what kind of hick place they had moved to. One woman had just moved to Huntsville from somewhere out West and tuned in to hear him talk about Aunt Eunice’s ham biscuits and tell Hazel Buttram at Buttram’s Crossroads to put the big pot and the little pot on the stove for him ’cause he was coming to visit that day. She wondered to herself what kind of backward town she had come to live in but found herself tuning in again the next day, and the next day too, because she felt somehow welcomed into the show.

After Grady’s death, Robert made an appearance at the WHNT-sponsored Senior Expo. An elderly black woman approached Robert and told a story about the time she met Grady years ago. As a small child, she was standing outside a store in Lawrence County on a hot summer day. Grady asked her what was wrong, and she told him she wanted an ice cream cone but couldn’t go into the store because black people were not allowed inside. It broke Grady’s heart, and he promptly went inside and bought ice cream for the little girl, as well as the other children with her. It was an act of kindness she would never forget.

Grady did not grasp the influence he had on his viewers in the Tennessee Valley. Before his death in 1991 at the age of sixty-eight, he predicted that he would be forgotten a year after his death. As long as there is even one person alive who has ever listened to him through radio or watched him on television, Grady Reeves will be remembered.