Let’s not let the Solstice pass without acknowledging that today would have been Tom Parker’s birthday.
What a wonderful human being we lost when he passed away just about a decade ago—a devoted Christian in the original, loving sense, kind and open-hearted toward everyone, and! A legendary-status, major market radio pro. A kid from the Valley whose talent and work ethic powered him to achieve while in his 20s his young man’s ambition: KFRC in San Francisco, where he was the midday personality during the golden age of that famous station. He served also as KFRC morning man Dr. Don Rose’s fill-in for years—and later, he was recruited by K103 as Craig Walker’s permanent sub during Craig’s long morning dominance in Portland.
Tom spent many weeks in the main chair, and we developed an easy rapport that served us well in March of ’93, when we had to handle—without warning—the simultaneous experiences of Craig’s liver transplant and the Spring Break Quake. That was a hell of a week, and I could not have wished for a better partner than Tom Parker.
Tom was an extremely funny man. We emceed events, and I’d just stand back and roar at his wisecracks. He was influenced by Robin Williams (who I think he knew in SF), and by smart TV comedies like Cheers, Frasier, and The Office. Friends develop codes, and we used Ghostbusters and Naked Gun references in conversation all the time. “That’s a big Twinkie!”
Tom was one of the great pros I loved sharing the morning show with—from the newsroom across the glass from the jock—because he was totally up for repartee, a friendship playing out over the air. It was radio ping-pong. Tom could both serve and return spins and smashes, sharing the joy in the improvisational chemistry that always characterized the KGW/K103 morning show during our watch. He also had the most lopsided talent-to-ego ratio I have ever seen.
After corporate radio did what corporate radio does, Tom began a second career as the face and voice of Lines for Life—the literal lifeline for people in the hardest moments of their lives: veterans, teens, and others across the nation. He told me it was the worst-paying but best job of his career.
I loved Tom as a brother. He would have been 74 today.