I'm still hurting over losing one of my all-time favorite DJ's, Richard Pegue (WVON and WGCI).
Next to Herb Kent, he 'was' radio for me in the 60's and 70's
...and he was a straight Dusties King, like Kent.
In fact, he is the originator
along with "Herbie Baby" of the term "Dusties".
The "Dubber Ruckie" as he called himself
could not be beat when it came
to playing what we Chicago
youngins wanted to hear and dance to,
and his signature tune was
"Stay Awhile With Me" by Sharon Ridley.
Richard had a laid back style and his voice was unique.
He was a thinker too...
always coming up with questions
that made you go.."Hmmm"
I will miss him very much.
I brought over some of the features
from his website, not only to remember him by,
but to feel like I have
a little piece of him
here at OOTP."Do You Remember?" at Richard's Website
Jason Stone graciously gave me
one of The Dubber Ruckie's airchecks from 1975,
which I appreciate with all of my heart.
*Thanks Jason* and Thank you Richard Pegue, for the Dusties.
You were our treasure.--~edie2k2
Here's a wonderful interview with Bob Abrahamian’s
“Sitting In The Park” radio show on WHPK-FM;
You can hear him tell his story here.
If only for the TV jingles he created
for the Moo & Oink meat shop,
you know Pegue’s going to a good place. I didn't know he produced
Little Ben & The Cheers,
who did 'I'm Not Ready To Settle Down"!! Whoa!!!
This interview is outstanding.
Chicago has been a hotbed of vintage soul lately. In addition to the Numero Group’s upcoming Eccentric Soul Revue at the Park West, the Ambassador East hotel currently is showcasing a week-long soul festival presented by a U.K. promoter. In the midst of all this activity, a giant of the Chicago scene has passed away. Richard Pegue—noted DJ, producer, songwriter and musician—died of a heart attack Monday.
Richard Pegue was born on July 29, 1944 in Chicago to a beautician and a policeman. More than any other local disc jockey (save for Herb Kent), Pegue did a lot to spread the concept of “dusties,” basically another way of saying “African-American oldies.” His Saturday dusties show jumped from station to station for the last 28 years, from high-wattage frequencies like WGCI-FM to college stations like Kennedy-King’s WKKC (which is where he could be heard in recent years), but still managed a deep following. At one point in the ‘80s, his show was so popular that a competing black station (the long-gone WBMX) slotted a similar show on Sunday afternoons.
As an old drop-in on Pegue’s show used to say, “when you hear the same songs on Sunday afternoons that you hear on Saturday nights, you know everybody’s listening to Richard Pegue and the Best Music Of Your Life!” The competing show on WBMX tanked. The DJs had little connection to the songs played, and often sounded like they didn’t want one, wisecracking, “This is my older brother’s record, I’m way too young to remember this!”
Pegue, as he pointed out, was there when it happened. He spun stories about the time he stole some guitar sheet music from a ’60s Gene Chandler session, or the time his old singing group were recording at Chess Records while “these ugly white guys” (better known as the Rolling Stones) waited their turn.
More importantly, he was proud of the local music scene. A typical Pegue show featured a heavy dose of the Chicago sound, usually from local acts who never broke nationally. Every now and then he’d play something he produced himself, like Renaldo Domino’s “Not Too Cool To Cry” (1969) or Little Ben & the Cheers’ “I’m Not Ready To Settle Down” (1965). In a city that boasted several producers with individualistic sounds, Pegue was not afraid to leave his touches all over a record—the Domino song is the only sweet soul song I can think of offhand with a fiddle solo. And true to his altar-boy roots, several of Pegue’s productions had eerie choral backgrounds.
Richard Steele and Richard Pegue.
Longtime Chicago DJ Richard Pegue Dies Produced by
City Room on Wednesday, March 04, 2009
A music legend on Chicago's South Side has died. Richard Pegue sang in doo-wop groups, wrote commercial jingles and spun soul and R&B tracks as a radio DJ. In recent years, Pegue co-hosted a Friday night dance party alongside WBEZ's Richard Steele.
STEELE: His knowledge of old records was better than just about anybody I know. I mean, you name the artist, he knew that person, when they recorded, who they recorded with, who played drums on that recording, that kind of stuff. He was very, very intense about oldies—dusties—and knew the ins-and-outs, A-to-Z.
Steele and Pegue were friends for more than 50 years, starting in high school. Pegue died Tuesday in Jackson Park Hospital after a heart attack. He was 64.
Here are some "Way Back" memories - how many do you remember and how many can you add to them?
DANCES WE USE TO DO IN CHICAGO
Bossa Nova Bird
Funky 4 Corners
The Cold Duck
The Feel It
Bank Head Bounce
Shingaling Da Butt
Tom & Jerry
Push & Pull
The Tighten Up
Richard Pegue, 1944-2009: Disc jockey who spun Dusties on Chicago radio.
By Trevor Jensen | Tribune reporter
March 5, 2009
Richard Pegue, best known as an on-air spinner of "dusties" on Chicago radio, was also a savvy promoter and station manager who contributed to WGCI's rise to a ratings power.
Mr. Pegue (pronounced like McGee), 64, died of heart failure Tuesday, March 3, according to WVON, one of his former stations. He was a resident of South Holland.
Mr. Pegue most recently worked the midnight-to-6-a.m. Sunday shift at WKKC-FM 89.3, playing his familiar mix of rhythm-and-blues hits from the 1950s through the 1970s, backed by knowledgeable patter about the artists and arrangements, program director Al Greer said.
He called his show "The Best Music of Your Life," as he had since his days as one of the disc jockeys known as the "Good Guys" at WVON, where he became music director in 1968.
Over the years, he worked at a number of stations. But most notably, he had a lengthy stretch at WGCI, where he worked as program director and operations manager in addition to filling in on-air through the 1980s and 1990s.
"He's the guy I really credit with the success of WGCI today," said former WGCI president and general manager Marv Dyson, now director of operations at WKKC. "He's the guy who created the magic."
Mr. Pegue helped organize citywide treasure hunts for miniature WGCI buses, which when found through on-air clues led to cash rewards. The promotion was so popular, people were digging up yards and turning over cars, Dyson said.
"We had to start hiding them in plain sight," he said.
Another promotion offered gas at 50 cents a gallon, now a common stunt but not so at the time, Dyson said.
Mr. Pegue also helped assemble a roster of on-air talent that included Tom Joyner and Doug Banks and brought back radio legend Herb Kent during a lull in Kent's career, Dyson said.
Somewhat cantankerous, Mr. Pegue was never afraid to tell people what was on his mind, colleagues said.
"We called him a crotchety old man," Dyson said. "He was 64 years old. Richard acted like he was 90."
But at the annual Dusty Record Convention he organized each year, Mr. Pegue was the life of the party, spinning old favorites at a sellout BYOB buffet and dance.
Growing up on the South Side, Mr. Pegue started playing music at high school dances after getting a reel-to-reel player from his grandmother. His father, also named Richard, was a Chicago Park District police officer who was shot to death in 1946 by a suspected rapist.
At Hirsch High School, Mr. Hegue started a doo-wop group and wrote music. He later wrote "I'm Not Ready to Settle Down," which was recorded by the Cheers.
His best-known composition is likely the long-running jingle for Moo & Oink markets: "Wave for catfish—Moo & Oink! Scream for ribs—Moo & Oink!"
The jingle was replaced in 2006 by a rap number to appeal to younger people.
"They talk a different language," Mr. Pegue said philosophically in a Tribune story. "I'm more into the classics."
Mr. Pegue is survived by his wife, Sevina; four children; 14 grandchildren; and a great-granddaughter.
Brasília (AFP) - Venezuela's fugitive former top prosecutor resurfaced in Brazil on Wednesday claiming to possess "a lot" of proof of President Nicolas Maduro's corruption and warning that her life remains in danger. Days after a dramatic escape from chaotic Venezuela, Luisa Ortega, 59, turned up the heat on Maduro, who has asked Interpol to issue a "red notice" warrant for the arrest of his critic. Ortega -- speaking at a crime-fighting conference in the Brazilian capital with representatives from the Latin American regional trading alliance Mercosur -- said Maduro enriched himself in a massive corruption scheme uncovered at Brazilian construction conglomerate Odebrecht.
The mystery of how the crew of one of the world’s first submarines died has finally been solved - they accidentally killed themselves. The HL Hunley sank on February 17 1864 after torpedoing the USS Housatonic outside Charleston Harbour, South Carolina, during American Civil War. She was one of the first submarines ever to be used in conflict, and the first to sink a battleship. It was assumed the blast had ruptured the sub, drowning its occupants, but when the Hunley was raised in 2000, salvage experts were amazed to find the eight-man crew poised as if they had been caught completely unawares by the tragedy. All were still sitting in their posts and there was no evidence that they had attempted to flee the foundering vessel. The submarine being raised in 2000 Credit: US Navy Now researchers at Duke University believe they have the answer. Three years of experiments on a mini-test sub have shown that the torpedo blast would have created a shockwave great enough to instantly rupture the blood vessels in the lungs and brains of the submariners. "This is the characteristic trauma of blast victims, they call it 'blast lung,'" Dr Rachel Lance. “You have an instant fatality that leaves no marks on the skeletal remains. Unfortunately, the soft tissues that would show us what happened have decomposed in the past hundred years.” The Hunley's torpedo was not a self-propelled bomb, but a copper keg of 135 pounds of gunpowder held ahead and slightly below the Hunley's bow on a 16-foot pole called a spar The sub rammed this spar into the enemy ship's hull and the bomb exploded. The furthest any of the crew was from the blast was about 42 feet. The shockwave of the blast travelled about 1500 meters per second in water, and 340 m/sec in air, the researchers calculate. The bodies of the crew were found sitting in their positions around the central crankshaft which made the submarine move Credit: Reuters While a normal blast shockwave travelling in air should last less than 10 milliseconds, Lance calculated that the Hunley crew's lungs were subjected to 60 milliseconds or more of trauma. "That creates kind of a worst case scenario for the lungs," added Dr Lance. “Shear forces would tear apart the delicate structures where the blood supply meets the air supply, filling the lungs with blood and killing the crew instantly. “It's likely they also suffered traumatic brain injuries from being so close to such a large blast. "All the physical evidence points to the crew taking absolutely no action in response to a flood or loss of air. If anyone had survived, they may have tried to release the keel ballast weights, set the bilge pumps to pump water, or tried to get out the hatches, but none of these actions were taken.” A painting of the HL Hunley Credit: Conrad Wise Chapman The fate of the crew of the 40-foot Hunley remained a mystery until 1995, when the submarine was discovered about 300 meters away from the Housatonic's resting place. Raised in 2000, the submarine is currently undergoing study and conservation in Charleston by a team of Clemson University scientists. Initially, the discovery of the submarine only seemed to deepen the mystery. The crewmen's skeletons were found still at their stations along a hand-crank that drove the cigar-shaped craft. They suffered no broken bones, the bilge pumps had not been used and the air hatches were closed. Except for a hole in one conning tower and a small window that may have been broken, the sub was remarkably intact. Speculation about their deaths has included suffocation and drowning. The new study involved repeatedly setting blasts near a scale model, shooting authentic weapons at historically accurate iron plate and calculating human respiration and the transmission of blast energy. The research was published in PLOS ONE.