Some 46 years ago, shortly after graduating from the University of Utah with a degree in journalism, I went to work for the National Wool Growers Association, as assistant editor of their trade publication. My starting salary was $250 a month. I knew little about sheep, although I had spent summers during the war on a family farm in Lava Hot Springs, Idaho. There I learned to sleep while riding Shorty, who also slept, as together we operated the derrick during haying season.

Some five years later, hoping (but failing) to increase my salary to $450 a month, I learned of an opening as assistant farm program director at KSL Radio. I applied and got the job and a salary increase to $550 a month. I had taken speech classes at the U from Louise Hill Howe and had always been interested in broadcasting. About a year later, Von Orme who was the farm director left and I became Director of Agricultural and Economic programming, a fancy title, and as Farm Director I traveled the state getting interviews and covering various agricultural events for our radio programs that ran as part of John Barlowe's morning show and also for our noontime programming.

Six years later Arch Madsen selected me to take over both news operations at KSL radio and television. Until then they had operated as separate divisions of the corporation. Not too long after that, I was greatly pleased the Florien Wineriter became part of our news team. I can't recall the exact year. When you get to my stage in life, you begin to forget a few things. You know you're growing older when everything hurts and what doesn't hurt doesn't work or when you get winded playing chess. Your children begin to look middle aged you know all the answers but nobody asks the questions. Your favorite part of the newspaper is "25 years ago today". You sit in a rocking chair and can't get it going your knees buckle, but your belt won't. Dialing long distance wears you out. Your back goes out more than you do. You burn the midnight oil after 9 PM you sink your teeth into a steak and they stay there or the best part of the day is over when the alarm goes off.

Television was still rather young in 1964. Videotape was not yet available. We shot everything on film, black and white film, and most of what we shot was with hand-held cameras and not sound. That soon changed. Color became available. But video cameras and satellite transmission were still a few years off.

Although I knew little of television, I was greatly supported by Arch Madsen and had the safety net of Nourse, Weiti, and James. For Arch had lured Paul James and Bob Welti from Channel four to channel five the same time he appointed me as their boss.

Working for the LDS Church I was often asked if I was constantly told what stories we could and could not cover and how we should cover various stories. The editor of the New York Sun at the turn of this ending century said, "we are tools and vassals of the rich men behind the scenes. We are the jumping jacks; they pull the strings and we dance. Out talents, our possibilities and our lives are all the property of other men. We are intellectual prostitutes." That was the 1900 opinion of editor John Swinton. But I found no such "controls" despite what some might have forecast. I recall, for instance, our ongoing coverage by Louise Degn, of the planned (and then the actual) demolition of the Coalville Tabernacle. I am certain that some of the "powers-that-be" were not pleased with our hard-hitting coverage of that story. To add to my concerns about that story: I had to decide whether or not to run the film we had that included my mother and my wife demonstrating in front of the LDS Church offices against destruction of the Coalville landmark. We did run the film.

On another occasion, a well known Salt Lake Advertising executive came barging into my office--receiving no satisfaction--then went to Arch Madsen's office (again no satisfaction)-wanting us to kill a story we were ready to air about contamination of milk in Delta, Utah. He represented Utah dairy producers and was fearful we would scare everyone so they wouldn't drink milk. We ran the story, milk sales dropped in certain parts of the state, but quickly recovered when we ran subsequent stories later on about the problem being resolved.

This was then--and still is, I think--a relatively good television news market. That is, competition is keen. The former owner of Channel two, George Hatch, was never willing to roll over and play dead against the heavy weight ownership of KSL. That was terrific for those of us who worked at both stations. We usually got what we wanted in equipment and in good people. Channel Four, with outside ownership was not then, but I think is now, willing to compete.

Thinking that one should change jobs about every seven years or so when the opportunity came to go to Washington, D. C. in 1972--with the urging of and strong support from--my wife I "jumped" at the chance. Wes Vernon, who was earlier our political specialist and primary radio news anchor at KSL and had become Bonneville International's first bureau chief in D.C., decided to go to work for CBS Radio's owned and operated stations. So Arch asked me if I wanted to go to Washington. Thinking that a journalist should have tomb stone recognition for having worked at the seat of world power, I did, as mentioned go.

I arrived in Washington two weeks before that "second-rate burglary" at the Watergate Hotel. That was how the event was first described to me by Kem Gardner who was then Senator Frank Moss's Administrative Assistant. Of course the break-in turned out to be much more than that, and did in my opinion, have a significant impact on journalists and journalism in the decades since.

My first visit to the galleries on the day I arrived in Washington allowed me to hear the great (but about to depart the Congress) Senator Mike Mansfield of Montana who was saying something about crash landings and not being involved if you are not in on the takeoff. It all made sense. To be sure "sense" was not always the outcome of a gallery stay. One does, I think, have to agree with a Russian visitor to the spectator galley in the House: "Congress is so strange," he said "a man gets up and speak and says nothing. Nobody listens--and then everybody disagrees." That, I fear, is often the case.

My job in Washington was to cover congressional delegations from the states and surrounding states where Bonneville owned 14 radio and television stations. It was a daunting task. Quickly I learned that hearing the "Gentleman from California" called ill informed and totally out of touch, or much stronger words, meant little as the combatants would leave the hall arm in arm for the nearest watering hole. Coming from Utah in the early '70's, I was used to a high degree of civility and had to learn that although words were important in the halls of congress often certain ones had no meaning.

Early on, while visiting with Congressman Richard Bolling, a democrat from Kansas City, I was schooled in important definitions. "Politics," he said, "is the art of the possible. Compromise," he went on, "is not a dirty word" Bolling, a protégé of Sam Rayburn's was very astute and very helpful as were many others. I wonder how many of our Utah politicians, locally and nationally, believe in the "art" of compromise.

Many reporters and perhaps a majority of voters make it difficult nowadays for politicians to indicate there may be two sides to issues--and that sometimes a middle ground is the only one possible--or even the best one. Extremism seems to have won the day in much of the media, especially talk radio. One wonders if many that call in have it all together. Many such callers (and often the hosts) remind one of the hecklers who confronted Theodore Roosevelt when making a political speech during one of his campaigns. "I am a democrat," said the heckler with a repeated and somewhat inebriated cry. Roosevelt was a dangerous man to heckle. Pausing in his speech and smiling with oriental unction, he leaned forward and said, "may I ask the gentleman why he is a democrat?" The voice replied "My grandfather was a democrat, my father was a Democrat, and I am a Democrat." Roosevelt said, "My friend, suppose your grandfather had been a jackass, and your father had been a jackass, what would you be?" Instantly the reply came back "A Republican." Not to be quoted--I think this may have been one case where the heckler was right.

In all truth, I learned in Washington that many (perhaps even most) of those in Congress were well motivated. At that time, the Senate was not exclusively the millionaires club it is today. At that time it did not take selling of the soul to get enough money to be elected to Congress. When Gunn McKay first ran for the House around 1970--he told me he spent a total of$14,000 to be elected. Joel Pritchard a moderate republican from the University district in Seattle told me he spent about the same amount to be elected. And Joel said he would not seek reelection after five terms and at that point, he quit.

Senator Henry ("Scoop") Jackson of Washington State--who had served in Congress for over three decades--told me that he wasn't there primarily to pass laws. But instead to watch over the bureaucrats--the young BMW driving lawyers--whose job was to implement the will of the congress. For that, and other reasons, I am not a strong proponent of term limits. It takes several years to learn the ropes in Washington, whether you are a member of congress or a newsperson.

Astute politicians not only properly oversee the bureaucracy, but they know how to deal effectively with the media. I recall, as an example, Senator Howard Baker of Tennessee being interviewed by CBS's great Roger Mudd. It was in the Senate radio and TV gallery during the Watergate hearings. Roger wanted to know what exactly was on those White House tapes. This was before the committee had gotten to that portion of their hearings. Baker effectively sidestepped the question--went on to something that was known and was to him significant. Roger then asked the same question in a slightly different way--tried again after that. But Baker--with no rancor--won the day.

Earlier I said that Watergate changed journalism and journalists. Too often since, young inexperienced reporters, hoping for air time or front page placement, instantly see blood when there is a slight scratch or no scratch at all. Too often sources are not adequately checked and rechecked, statements taken out of context, cubbyholes found for ideas and actions that require giant cupboards. I'm not sure I entirely agree with Oscar Wilde who said, "Instead of monopolizing the seat of judgment, journalism should be apologizing in the dock." But he may have had a point.

The technological revolution began in earnest while I was in Washington. Videotape replaced film. Satellite transmission replaced couriers running our film to Dulles hoping to make the early--or even the late news--in Seattle or Salt Lake. "Live" shots became de riguer and, as silly as they usually are, are still the order of the day. But television--challenged for viewers time by the world wide web, by video tape movies, and the increasing demands on human time and energy--has changed the world--perhaps, in ways, not completely for the better.

You have all heard them: the startling, some would say frightening--even deplorable--statistics regarding the use or misuse of television. The TV set is on for 7 hours and 50 minutes each day in the average US home. In families with children, it's on even more--an average of 63 hours each week.

Not only young people watch television, but also old people. I'm reminded of a story of two elderly people who were sitting watching television together one evening. She was knitting and was sitting close to the television set because she was a bit hard of hearing. He, seated in his recliner a few feet away from her, watched her carefully as they viewed a television drama. The elderly gentleman looked lovingly at his wife and thought back over the years they had spent together and how much he loved her. He said to her in a kindly tone, "I'm proud of you, darling." She put her knitting in her lap, turned her head to face him squarely and said, "I'm tired of you, too."

Well, television can bring people together or, I suppose, drive them apart. Television has done, is doing and will do many marvelous, wonderful, even magical things. It has also been, is and will be, for many of us, a menace. Television binds us together as a people, a nation, even humanity as a whole in ways that were unimagined only a few years back. Television spelled the beginning of the end to widespread segregation. Television provided national support for the historic space program that allowed men to walk on the moon. Television has had much to do with bringing about the possibilities of long hoped for freedom in Eastern Europe, Asia, and other parts of the world where people are exposed to free and open debate, to the exchange of ideas. There is great hope for freedom. Television can provide that exposure.

So, yes, television can, indeed, work magic. Its impact is enormous. It shapes the way we see ourselves, our neighbors, and our institutions. Our perceptions of the world are filtered through the prism of television.

Yet, despite its great potential for change, for educating, for allowing us to know and understand each other, thus creating an environment for world peace, despite this great potential, the highest rated programs on television are those like the Wheel of Fortune, Jeopardy, the Newlywed Game and so forth.

Edward R. Murrow said of television, "It is a sword rusting in the scabbard during a battle for survival." Not everyone, of a course, would agree with Murrow's opinion but those of us who do are attempting to do something about it. We are attempting to take the sword out of the scabbard.

Rather than curse the darkness of mediocrity and lowest common denominator programming--the University of Utah has lit a candle, as have many other universities and public television stations nationwide. We operate a regional telecommunications center serving six states

All of these marvelous "tools of information and education" will soon be housed in one building in the Dolores Bore Eccles Broadcast Center, a marvelous new facility--much needed--that will allow us to provide even greater benefits to all of the people of our state and our region. A building that will allow students to receive more adequate "hands-on" training in broadcast media. A building that will allow cooperation of all our communication efforts--something that has long been needed to take KUED out of the basement of the old union building, now Gardner Hall, and KUER out of its totally inadequate facilities in the basement of Kingsbury Hall. We are in the process now of launching a capital campaign to raise the remaining amount that will allow us to realize this long sought after dream.

And so for us--as with the rest of the industry--the great television revolution continues. Involved are cable, VCRs, direct broadcast satellite, low-power television stations, and who knows what might yet lie ahead. The three major commercial networks' prime time share continues to decline. That, of course, has been brought about by the extreme competition provided by the technologies that I referred to a minute ago--especially cable television. About 55 percent of all US households now have cable. Salt Lake has the highest VCR ownership market in the nation at 60 percent.

So with all of these great tools capable of delivering magic, what is or what should be the role for PBS, the Public Broadcasting Service? Some are saying PBS and most all of public television, as we now know it is no longer needed. As you might expect, I certainly do not agree. In fact, soon after having been elected chairman of the PBS Board, I determined after many years of rejecting the idea that we should have cable television in our home. We now do. I spent some time flipping through the plethora of channels, fearful at first that I would come down on the side of those who say that because of all that is available in our television offerings we no longer need public television. I have come to quite the contrary conclusion. I am more convinced the more I watch what is on cable television that public television is essential to the well being of our nation.

Public television is reexamining its charge, and I think we must. We cannot compete with the American Movie Channel in presenting old movies every night or with Ted Turner's many offerings. We cannot and should not attempt to compete with the Disney Channel and all that it does for young people--although there are some public television stations who think their niche is in this field. We cannot, in my opinion, compete with MTV--nor should we. There are areas of overlap with such channels as Discovery, Arts and Entertainment and Bravo. But even there, the realities of the commercial world require those channels to not only carry commercials but also to try and broaden their audiences with a common denominator that may not be of the quality that PBS should be and I think usually is.

--Ted Capener