Adam:

I was shocked and saddened when I learned the news of your father's death. Although I knew him only slightly a long time ago, I've retained some nice memories.

I initially got to "know" him by calling in to WHAT-FM while he was doing his broadcasts. Call-ins to the DJs were encouraged if listeners had questions or comments about the music, performers, or anything else relevant on a given day.

Rick Friedman (dubbed "Strings" by Joel), with whom I was in college in the Sixties, worked at the station. On an occasional Friday night, my brother and I and another friend visited the two of them while your dad was on the air. We'd hang out in the studio and chat while the music played, and the conversations were usually hilarious. Joel and Rick also became known for some of their comical on-air exchanges.

Once your dad asked my opinion about a cut from an album he'd just produced for Atlantic, having recently begun his career as a record producer. It may have been by Rahsaan Roland Kirk, but I'm not sure. In any case, before playing it he said he wanted my honest feedback, adding, "I have no ego about this." (Whatever the cut was, I liked it and told him so.)

I don't know who among you and your brothers is the oldest, but one night after the program Joel invited us back to his house--which wasn't far from the station--to see his son who'd recently been born. It was late and the baby was asleep, but we were allowed a peek into his crib.

Your parents also had a Yorkshire terrier at the time, about which your mom told us, "Joel wanted to name the dog Hooker, but I said no. If it got out, I wasn't going to yell 'Here, Hooker!' all over the neighborhood."

Joel and I both loved trivia. An hour or two after the Adam West "Batman" series debuted on TV to great fanfare, your dad was on the air. Jerry Blavat meandered in to the FM studio from the AM side, as he was occasionally wont to do. He and Joel often got into hysterically funny on-air conversations, not a few of which were a little risque for that era of radio. On this particular evening, right after the show began, their conversation naturally turned to Batman. Blavat asked, "Wasn't there a Batwoman in the comics?" Joel said, "I don't know, but my man will call and tell us while I play some music."

"My man" was yours truly. After the music began, I dialed the studio, Joel answered, and I said, "It's me, answering your Bat-signal. Yes, there was a Batwoman and her name was Kathy Kane."

"Thanks! Call me after eleven."

Once we were talking about B-westerns. Joel said he always loved the Hopalong Cassidy films, and claimed his favorite line came from Andy Clyde, who played Hoppy's sidekick. The line was, "It's fool's gold, Hoppy!" I subsequently mentioned this to another friend, and it became a lifelong running joke between us. Whenever one of us said the line, I thought immediately of your dad.

He loved Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories.

I remember his Rondo H. Slade Masked Announcer commercials and regret that home VCRs didn't exist at the time they were aired. They were insanely funny and worthy of taping as keepers.

Once, during some sort of crisis in Philadelphia, the exact nature of which I don't recall, Joel was on the air for something like 13 hours. He was exhausted, but you'd never have known it by the way he sounded. He was the consummate pro.

Joel introduced me as a jazz-lover to many of the performers and tunes I still revere and listen to today. Many of the LPs in my collection wouldn't be there if I hadn't heard them first on his broadcasts. Many he produced himself.

He will be sorely missed--as a man, as the best jazz DJ Philly ever had, and a record producer.

My deepest condolences to you and your family.