WCOM 10th Anniversary Magazine | Page 4

History of WCOM-FM Back in 2000, the FCC was in a jam. The radio waves, which are supposed to belong to the public, were looking a lot like they really belonged to Clear Channel and other radio mammoths, which effectively controlled music programming by extracting payola from musicians to play their songs. In response, the FCC created low power FM (LPFM)—a new class of non-profit community stations with about a five-mile broadcast range—to provide communities with an opportunity to get back some air time. In spite of its limited scope, LPFM was seen as a threat by big broadcasters, who convinced Congress that LPFM stations would interfere with their signal. Now you might not see how a 100-watt station was going to mess up the signal of a 100,000-watt station (and a later study ordered by Congress would prove you right) but the lobbyists won the day and convinced Congress to greatly scale back the FCC's LPFM plan. Locally, it seemed there would be no available frequencies for our area for LPFM—at least no one could find any on the FCC website's “Channel Finder.” But late one night, Ruffin Slater (of Weaver Street Market's Community Enterprise Project) entered 35 52 51 N and 79 03 50 W and—bingo!—the “frequency available” light came on. It turned out there was one 50-foot by 40-foot piece of broadcasting turf that was still available to the community. Ruffin filed the application in June 2001, and 18 months later the FCC granted a license to broadcast at 103.5 FM with the call letters WCOM. License in hand, Ruffin, Peg Nolan, and Jacques Menache went to the National Federation of Community Broadcasters conference, where they learned about a federal grant that would fund 75% of the equipment costs. With the grant deadline only four weeks away, a flurry of activity produced 20 letters from organizations and 1,000 signatures in support of the station. In September 2003, WCOM's PTFP grant was approved. The next step was to find a place 90 feet in the air to mount a broadcast antenna. The broadcasting site permitted by the FCC was right next to Weaver Street Market's Southern Village store, and WSM volunteered to put a tower on its roof for the antenna, but the plan was nixed by the Town of Chapel Hill. In search of Plan B, Jacques and his colleague Jake got a three-foot balloon from Pat and Sharon at Balloons and Tunes, tied it to a 90-foot string, and started looking for a place it might fit. WCOM's luck was back when Jacques and Jake found a big, ugly cell phone tower at the ball field at Culbreth School. Compared to that thing, H