Public radio audiences lost an old friend this week when Arthur Hoehn passed on, his life cut short by lung cancer.
Much has been made of his status as MPR’s first full time, professional announcer, and I suppose that’s an important detail. To be the first one in the door just ahead of a vast and distinguished crowd is a meaningful bit of timing, but Art Hoehn would have stood out had been the tenth one hired, or the two hundred and tenth.
For many years he was the overnight host, happily working a shift that most dread. While everyone else was asleep, Arthur would be gliding around the radio station in his slippers and sometimes his bathrobe, turning off lights to save energy and flipping over the accordion-fold paper after it had already chunk-chunked through newsroom teletype once, feeding it through again so the blank side could be put to use.
For lazy young journalists it meant you had to check the date on your copy. Coming in first thing in the morning to throw together a newscast, there’s a 50/50 chance the item you’re about to read on the air is three days old, even though it’s still warm from the machine. Take a look at the other side and say thanks to Mr. Hoehn for conserving the resources.
Arthur was the perfect companion for insomniacs and others whose internal clocks put them at odds with the world. Though I’m sure he could do it, he wasn’t the sort of announcer who would dazzle you with a sharp, sparkling monolog. Mr. Hoehn took his time. And face it, if you’re listening to a classical station at 3 am, chances are you’re not there for the energetic pacing. You’re in need of companionship, and Arthur was ready to abide with you.
He was the disc jockey who would be content to stare out the window as you both watched snow fall through the lonely beam of a streetlight. Today’s listeners are deprived of the eerie sensation of tuning in to a station to hear the sound of someone … um … thinking. He gave us deliciously long pauses – a rarity in radio but surprisingly effective as an attention-getting device. “What’s going on?” you wonder. An intake of breath. Another long pause. “Is he going to speak?”
Probably. What’s your hurry?
For all the forms of media we have at our disposal today and the 24/7 streams of programming that flood out of our computers, there are few places where gentle soul is given an open microphone and license to allow his stream of consciousness to meander. For a significant number of years, Art created that sort of comfortable space for his listeners. As one of the announcers who followed him to open up the next “day part”, I was grateful for his easygoing presence. No matter the type of work you do, it’s harder to get started when you’ve just walked into a space that’s cold and dark.
With Arthur Hoehn on duty, there was always a warm spirit in the house.



