Democratic political consultant Bill Fletcher, a friend of radio hosts Karlen Evins and Teddy Bart, is trying to keep Teddy Bart's Round Table on the air, even though its nonprofit board of directors voted 5-0 to discontinue the broadcast effective Friday.
"Back in the old days, when someone's barn burned down, everybody showed up to help," Fletcher says of his efforts. In case you're missing the metaphor, Evins and Bart's barn is now a pile of smoldering ashes.
"I don't know that there's a real clear plan," Fletcher tells Desperately, but possible options for keeping the show afloat in some form include putting a new board of directors in place—the five board members who voted to end the show have resigned effective Aug. 15—or perhaps taking the show to a commercial station.
Evins, for her part, is still reeling, characterizing the July 14 meeting in which board members decided to throw in the towel as an utter shock.
"A hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars over five months is not an insurmountable problem with the folks we had there to help," she tells the Scene of the estimated, worst-case shortfall for this fiscal year and the powerful nonprofit board that, in addition to her and Bart, includes businessmen Ted Welch, Orrin Ingram and Jim Ayers, former Gov. Ned McWherter and lawyer Mark Tipps. "It's bad enough to lose a company you're trying to jumpstart," Evins says. "The slap in the face to me was five friends and board members...saying you'll have our letters of resignation by Aug. 15. It's hard not to take that personally."
According to Evins, board chairman Ted Welch sent all board members, save Evins and Bart, a July 11 memo outlining three cost-saving budgets that Evins had developed, along with a fourth and final choice—"Option D"—which was a shutdown of the radio show and its public-access TV simulcast.
"I was never told Option D was an option," Evins says, confirming that she and Bart didn't see the agenda that included the draconian measure until they arrived at the meeting. Then, they were asked to leave the room for about 10 minutes while the rest of the board considered the future of the public affairs show that has been in existence in some form for 20 years. Afterward, she says she didn't ask any questions of the board. "Quite frankly, I just wanted to get the heck out of the room and cry."
Since that meeting, McWherter has sent a note with his well wishes and Tipps personally delivered flowers to Evins, but she hasn't been in contact with other board members.
Orrin Ingram, the largest personal contributor to the program among those on the board, is said to believe that the show, which airs on AM-1160, simply doesn't have a significant enough audience to justify dealing with the chronic financial roadblocks. Under the umbrella of nonprofit The Public Forum, the show was able to sell sponsorships but not ads in the traditional sense. Complicating matters, because the TV form of the show was broadcast on public-access television, those ads couldn't run there.
It's always been a mystery just how many listeners Teddy Bart's Round Table really has. Though it has broadened its reach to public-access TV and radio in many other Tennessee counties and counts among its guests powerful public officials and influential businessmen in town (not to mention media folks like this writer and reporters and editors at other newspapers), it's probably fair to say that the show has narrow appeal—and, hence, is challenged to find and keep deep-pocketed sponsors.
It's worth noting that four of the five board members who voted to kill the program are Republicans, a group not noted for patience with money-losing propositions. When asked whether he would try to cobble together a Democratic-leaning board should the show somehow be resurrected, Fletcher, the Democratic consultant, says probably not. "We'll just get a different set of Republicans," because they have all the money. "I like Republicans. They keep me in business."
It wasn't Evan's fault
Poor kid. Tennessean intern Evan Mayor probably turned ashen when he read his Friday story in the paper about candidates for the Tennessee Supreme Court, to which a rogue copy editor added a gross inaccuracy.
"Among those not picked by the commission was Robert 'Mack' Cooper, the governor's top former lobbyist. Cooper was demoted by Bredesen in May because of an unspecified harassment issue."
They got the wrong Robert Cooper: Mack was never a candidate. The paper was deluged with complaints from readers and friends of Supreme Court hopeful Bob Cooper, Gov. Bredesen's legal counsel. He is completely unconnected with Mack Cooper and has a stellar record of legal service. The Tennessean printed a correction the next day, though it failed to grovel commiserate with the error.
Making the dark side brighter
Former Tennessean reporter and editor Jim East, who has also contributed to the Scene, has filed qualifying petitions for the Ward 1 seat in the Oct. 25 election of the Franklin Board of Mayor and Aldermen. Should he be elected, it's fair to say East will be a colorful politician, in the best sense of the word.
Funny, sharp and honest as the day is long, East, 62, has lived in Williamson County for the past 27 years. "For 44 years as a newspaper reporter and editor, I have covered hundreds—if not thousands—of local government meetings all over the United States and, on occasion, I knew I could do better than some members," East says in a press release.
We second that. Good luck, Jim.
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