That studio was classy, but creepy sometimes. More than once some drunk idiot would get locked out on the observation deck. The locks were electric and automated, and rarely did anyone ever check to see if there were any stragglers up there.
You would be in the studio, track lights dim, listening to Roberta Flack or Bread, then all of the sudden "!!!BAM BAM BAM!!!" a loud knock from behind, from somebody wandering around outside who could not get back in. So, it was up to the only person in the tower (the KQZY night jock) to let them in.
An incident like that led to my departure. Some transient came off the street, up the elevator, and was going nuts in front of the studio. I called the Dallas Police, they said call hotel security. I did, and they advised me I would be safe in the studio. After my bladder filled up and my patience ran out, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I glanced over to the elevator and noticed that the cleaning crew service key was in the keyhole, so I put on a long tune and walked outside. Listening over the intercom we had, I knew from his rantings that this man was suffering from some sort of paranioa and would eventually harm himself, and more importantly ME! So, I convince him (forcefully)to hide in the elevator. I pressed the down button, slowly counted to ten and turned the key to off.
I went back into the studio, called the Police Department back, informed them that their trespasser was safely suspended about 350 feet in the air and to come on out and get him when they had the time. At 7am I finished my final shift.
You would be in the studio, track lights dim, listening to Roberta Flack or Bread, then all of the sudden "!!!BAM BAM BAM!!!" a loud knock from behind, from somebody wandering around outside who could not get back in. So, it was up to the only person in the tower (the KQZY night jock) to let them in.
An incident like that led to my departure. Some transient came off the street, up the elevator, and was going nuts in front of the studio. I called the Dallas Police, they said call hotel security. I did, and they advised me I would be safe in the studio. After my bladder filled up and my patience ran out, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I glanced over to the elevator and noticed that the cleaning crew service key was in the keyhole, so I put on a long tune and walked outside. Listening over the intercom we had, I knew from his rantings that this man was suffering from some sort of paranioa and would eventually harm himself, and more importantly ME! So, I convince him (forcefully)to hide in the elevator. I pressed the down button, slowly counted to ten and turned the key to off.
I went back into the studio, called the Police Department back, informed them that their trespasser was safely suspended about 350 feet in the air and to come on out and get him when they had the time. At 7am I finished my final shift.