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Julius 'Juke' Van Oss: By John Hogan In a small studio adorned with awards and Tulip Time posters, "Talk of the Town" host Juke Van Oss slaps on a set of headphones as a commercial break ends and opens the phone lines for another caller discussing dead fish washing up along the He listens quietly as the man rants about what he suggests might be a government "cover-up." Another caller rails against "hot-shot politicians" turning a blind eye to immigration reform. Van Oss, the dean of talk radio in He is, in a real sense, the face of WHTC-AM 1450, " His hair still is thick and dark, his voice still deep and resonant, helped by 25-ounce bottles of Nestle Pure Life Raspberry Splash. Van Oss has a conversational way of talking: clear, concise, but never rushed. Van Oss went from engineer to broadcaster in 1952, when the morning announcer missed his WHTC today has the latest in technology and is on the air around the clock, even though Van Oss is on only from "You're listening to 'Talk of the Town,' with your host, Juke Van Oss," he says into the microphone. "The phone lines are open." Van Oss believes talk radio serves an important function in an industry taken over by foul-mouthed radio personalities and impersonal digital formats. "'Talk of the Town' is sort of like ... people speaking over the back fence," he said. Van Oss doles out humorous anecdotes, friendly advice and community news ranging from the lunch menu at Evergreen Commons -- chicken Florentine and country vegetable soup -- to bulletins about a lost dog in He provides answers to folks' questions, oftentimes on the spot. Or, when he doesn't have the answer, usually a listener does -- be it ticket prices at Cedar Point or where to buy cork. "There were people who thought this type of programming wasn't going to last, and that was 25 years ago," said co-worker Kevin Oswald, the station sales manager. "He's proved it does work. "People know he's a fountain of knowledge, and if he doesn't know it, he knows where to get the answer, maybe from the card files he keeps with hundreds of pieces of information," Oswald added. "People know he is a radio version of Google, I guess." On this rainy weekday, Van Oss follows the weather forecast with sage advice: "It's a dark day out there. It wouldn't hurt to turn your headlights on if you're out and about." It is what you'd expect from a radio station in the fictional town of Van Oss, who launched his radio career when Harry S. Truman was in the White House, often draws on his own experiences to relate to listeners. He's a veteran of World War II, he's been married three times and knows the pain of watching a loved one suffer. His second wife died in 1997 after a long struggle with Parkinson's disease. They had been married 47 years. Van Oss has conducted an estimated 13,000 on-air interviews. The guest list includes Tiny Tim, the sad-clown Emmett Kelly Jr., Art Linkletter and "any state politician from this area." He's been on the air during seven gubernatorial administrations, starting with G. Mennen Williams, but none has appeared in his studio. "Jennifer Granholm has an invitation anytime she wants," Van Oss said. "I will have Mr. (Dick) DeVos on one of these days," he says, referring to Gov. Granholm's GOP challenger. Just about every other politician from And he's been recognized with just about every civic award available, including Tulip Time Volksparade grand marshal. When dining at favorite spots, be it a Russ' Restaurant or Steak N Shake, he seldom goes unnoticed. "People are constantly approaching him and saying how much they like his show and how much they enjoy it," said his son, Blair Van Oss, who lives outside Juke, a radio name that's easier to say than Julius, is part of "The Greatest Generation," his life shaped by the hardships of war and the Great Depression -- hardships that eventually landed him behind the microphone of WHTC. Humble beginnings Van Oss was born "Mom was a housewife and, to my knowledge, never voted in her life," Van Oss said. "My dad, on the other hand, listened to the news and followed world events. He was a subscriber to 'U.S. News and World Report' until he died." The Van Oss household fell silent each evening when James Van Oss turned on the radio to hear Hans von (H.V.) Kaltenborn, a newspaperman who in 1927 joined the new Columbia Broadcasting Station as a regular weekly news commentator. "Back then, we didn't have local stations," Van Oss said. "The first was WOOD, which was just a little chicken coop out on M-21." Van Oss attended At 17, it was tough to find work, so Van Oss "floundered around" until he went with a friend to "I took sheet metal out of a truck and laid it on the floor," he said. "I quit after a week." His father, meanwhile, returned to Van Oss got his draft notice in April 1943. Before he was called to the infantry in December 1944, he completed 13 weeks of the 18-week radio course. He headed to the Pacific Theater in June 1945, and got an up-close look at the horrors of war. "It gave me a chance to see the destruction on the Philippine Islands; the people were very badly treated by the Japanese soldiers and, of course, there was the Bataan Death March, which killed 60,000 Americans and Filipinos." His final mission involved a seven-mile hike through rice paddies toward a village with a school house. "It started raining, and we were flooded out of the rice paddy. A C-47 flew over, dropping food boxes to the rice paddies, and on the box it said "War is Over." That is how we learned the war was over. Our next mission was occupation duty in Van Oss returned stateside in March 1946 and married a young woman he met on furlough. "She was ready to get married, and I wasn't," he recalls. The marriage lasted three years and produced a son, Bryan. After the 1949 divorce, his ex-wife got custody. Van Oss would not see him until 45 years later. "I wasn't ready to get married, and I wasn't sure what I wanted to do," he said. "They talk today about finding yourself; I had to find myself." A lucky break Van Oss found himself back in "I listened to a talk show host in That end of the business would have to wait. Van Oss remarried and landed a job as engineer at WHTC in 1951. The station back then was in the present parking lot and looked more like "a chicken coop in a swamp," Van Oss said. One co-worker remarked the station was "on the banks of Oblivion Gulch." He was forced behind the microphone when the "It started by accident ... and it has fascinated me ever since," Van Oss said. "That is what I liked to do, talking to people. And when people listen to you, it makes it all that much more enjoyable." He and his second wife, Janet, had two sons and a daughter, all of whom live in the area. Her slow death from Parkinson's disease "is one of the most dreadful things I've ever gone through," Van Oss said. "To watch someone die, and there is nothing you could do about it ... that was quite a frightening experience. You feel like half your heart is torn out." His wife patiently endured the hectic schedule of a radio announcer, which occasionally meant long hours and overnight stays at the station. His children, meanwhile, knew Dad was on the radio, but the impact did not register until years later. "I now listen to his show whenever I can," said Blair Van Oss, 53. "And not from me being his son. I really enjoy it myself." He, his brother and sister learned from their parents the importance of honesty and hard work, Blair said. "Having a strong work ethic, he instilled that in all of us kids. I will always be thankful for that." It also helped the station prosper. WHTC today is on the air around the clock. For many years, it operated from "Sometimes, the home life is secondary to the job," he said. "You don't give up your job because it is Christmas time. This is a 24/7 job, and it had a bearing on my home life." There have been a few laughs, certainly. One time, a lady who caught the tail end of a caller's inquiry on having a poodle bred dialed in with an on-air request. "Will you give me the recipe for that poodle bread?" Another woman had a question about an ingredient for a recipe given over the air. "It called for tepid water, and she wanted to know where she could buy it." A slower pace Van Oss, 82, has slowed some. Today, he is on the air from They celebrated their seventh wedding anniversary in April. His He starts his day at He have will already checked favorite Internet sites and wire services for a joke of the day and animal stories to share with listeners if no one's lighting up the phone lines of his call-in show. "Every day is a challenge, I guess that's why I like it," he said. "Except when the phone lines don't work. "That's a killer." Five things to know about Julius "Juke" Van Oss · His first day at grade school was inauspicious. "At recess time, the little kids go outside and one of the older kids yelled 'School's out, school's out. Teacher let the monkeys out.' So, I went home." Van Oss graduated sooner than his original classmates, though, completing second and third grades in one school year. · Van Oss is an avid reader, preferring biographies and autobiographies. His favorite TV shows are comedies, notably "M*A*S*H." · A young intern by the name of Guy VanderJagt was hired to work weekends with Van Oss at WHCT. Van Oss showed him the ropes. The young announcer later was elected to Congress, and made several appearances on Van Oss' show. · Van Oss used his first computer to search for his son born in 1948. Van Oss' first wife remarried, and · He is a model car buff, and especially enjoys building models of cars from before World War II. "It's meticulous work, and it takes a lot of time, but hey, that's what a hobby does." His 50-car collection occupies two shelves in his basement.
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