My role at DevonAir Radio was not a grand one. From 1980 to 1987, I was a loyal, hard-working member of the team—and badly underpaid. We had built a station around local news and information. That was its foundation.
I left abruptly in April 1987, after discovering that my trust and loyalty had been abused. It was a shock, and a very sad moment.
The letter on the desk
Just before my assignment with ZBC in Zimbabwe, I joined a small broadcast-training team funded by the British Council. I had arranged to take 30 days away from my contract. The person running DevonAir assured me that my job would be waiting when I returned.
He then wrote and signed a letter for me to receive on my return. It said that, because of “cutbacks” and a “lack of funds”, my contract would not resume.
One lunchtime, I went into his office to leave some paperwork. The letter was on his desk, addressed and signed to me, where anyone could see it.
At the time, I thought he was a loyal friend. I had stayed with the station through the 1983 board and staff crisis, when many people resigned and he was appointed to run it. In 1984, I had even turned down a broadcasting job at Derry’s Cross in Plymouth because of what I now see as misplaced loyalty to DevonAir. I have always regretted that decision.
I was due on air that afternoon. Over lunch, I spoke with two senior colleagues. Both agreed I should resign immediately, without notice. Some of my long-serving colleagues also urged me to write to the board and the regulator about the problems we believed were damaging the station: less local news and speech, and a growing focus on subsidiaries and diversification that we felt was draining money and attention from local broadcasting.
I left a short resignation letter on the manager’s desk, saying I was leaving at once and would write to the board and regulator. After returning from Zimbabwe, I sent them a fuller account, based on the diaries I had kept and the problems we had experienced.
I said goodbye to my friends and went to the newsroom. I cannot remember who was there. I told them I was leaving and said that, in time, they might want to do the same. I believed DevonAir was being turned into a jukebox. That is what I believe eventually happened.
Soon afterwards, an order went out to remove material featuring my voice, including promotions. It was as if I had never worked there.
That evening, a weekend DevonAir presenter—also a local television personality and someone I had known since school—phoned with a message from the manager. I was told the whole thing had been a misunderstanding and asked when I would be coming back. I lost my temper. I still wonder why the manager did not call me himself. I had already resigned, and I could not accept that explanation.
Those two men would both hurt me again in 1993. That is another story.
The bitter pill
In my final weeks, I had begun to dread working at DevonAir. I watched what we had built from 1980 being pushed aside. The station’s credibility and its relationship with listeners were, in my view, badly damaged. Internal disputes, union relations and the struggle to maintain a serious news service were all reported in the media. Meanwhile, we were told to say less on air and play more music.
I argued about the “more music” policy at dinner one evening with a friend who worked off air in programming. I tried to defend local news and speech in the schedule. We clashed badly, and the friendship never recovered. Work became miserable. I was also doing the job of Head of Presentation—an unpaid title that brought more work without giving me influence where it mattered.
I want to be frank: this has stayed with me for decades. As a local person working for my local station, I was deeply hurt. But my greatest concern has always been the listeners. A broadcaster is allowed into people’s lives, and that trust matters. The loss of DevonAir’s popularity and the affection people once had for it remains, to me, unforgivable.
Looking back, I find it hard to believe how far the station fell. In my view, DevonAir in its later years, its franchise successor and the businesses broadcasting on those Devon frequencies today have never matched the quality, strength or public affection the station had between 1980 and 1984. The records are available: Companies House, public archives, audience research and more.
I believe a small number of people were responsible for sending DevonAir downhill. They damaged the work of dedicated colleagues and undermined broadcasting that had served Devon well. They may think listeners will accept anything labelled cheap local radio. I do not. What lasting benefit did this bring to Devon? You can draw your own conclusions.
Those responsible will have to live with what they did, whatever gloss they later put on it. I do not believe they ever cared.
Shameful.
You can read about the history of DevonAir Radio here.
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