Rochester Encounter No. 1: Far as I can recall, I've only had two specific encounters with Rochester, New York in years past. One occurred in 1980, when I discovered an evening radio talk show on the somewhat distant (from my base in Central New York) WHAM-AM Radio. Having learned that WHAM's "Jack Kinnicutt Show" was promoting a UFO-themed
Close Encounters Week featuring live in-person and telephone interviews with an assortment of the best known UFO researchers, investigators and scientists in the USA and abroad, I put local radio aside and searched the dial for WHAM. Like many stations, during the day WHAM had to restrain its broadcast power output per FCC regulations, but when evening arrived its boosted signal could reach far and strong -- at least intermittently.
Therefore, it wasn't a stretch to locate WHAM in the evening, and as the fateful week of April 14-19, 1980 approached, I was ready, having stocked up on audiocassettes in hope of recording the entire series. This was not unusual, because beginning in the 1960s I had attempted to record as many UFO-themed TV and radio shows as I could, realizing even as a kid that doing this was historically important -- and indeed, decades later this is how it became my pleasure to donate a considerable amount of audio to UFO researcher Wendy Connors for her gigantic "Faded Discs" project, which saved and subjected UFO audio and video going back at least to the forties (some of it gleaned from old wire recordings, and some time-worn recorded media literally needed to be washed and cleaned - carefully, of course) to high-tech digitalization and preservation for future generations.
April 14 arrived at last and popular WHAM talk show host Jack Kinnicutt and a co-host (a nationally known psychic -- whatever you think about psychics, she was a great co-host and interviewer, very rational and appropriate for the occasion) commenced a six-evening series (Monday through Saturday) comprising several hours each night of UFO talk. Yes, I got everything on tape, but atmospheric conditions did not always cooperate and there were garbled or suppressed portions which could not faithfully right themselves for radio reception at my end.
Nevertheless, the cassette collection proved worthwhile and Wendy Connors also included these in her collection, an historical archive not only of radio and TV programs, but of actual officially reported UFO reports recorded throughout the years (some of her work can be located and heard on the Internet). At some point in the weeks that followed Kinnicutt's well-received series, I also recorded a great interview he conducted with famous author John G. Fuller, but my cassette is all screwed up on side B, and despite my efforts (last one was years ago) I don't really want to organize anything until and unless the tape cooperates so a full session can result. On the bright side, it wasn't recorded on an 8-track cartridge, one of the worst and most instantaneously self-destructive media ever invented.
Many years later, long after Kinnicutt departed WHAM, I e-mailed him and via a brief correspondence exchange thanked him for the UFO series, which actually turned out to be something of a minor radio cult classic among loyal listeners both near and far. Jack Kinnicutt instinctively knew, as
Close Encounters Week had unfolded, that this particular six-day broadcast assemblage of shows was destined to be special.
Maybe the production staff had a premonition regarding the series' success when initially involved in inviting guests and assigning time slots: Why else would a Saturday evening span of several hours be added to a program characteristically broadcast only Monday through Friday? (Picture: John -- Jack -- Kinnicutt)
Rochester Encounter No. 2: Prior to the WHAM radio UFO special, I was working for a public relations firm, and in 1979 assigned to travel to Rochester to assist in researching the history of Eastman Kodak for what would be its 100th anniversary and printing of the centennial edition of the corporation's popular photography publication,
Studio Light (see photo of the eventual cover). At that time Rochester literally was Kodak and Kodak was Rochester, enjoying a fine mutual relationship. During my time in the city, I was allowed almost carte blanche permission (see letter, sorry about my heavy redactions) to explore historical Kodak files, completing the task with time spent at the famous George Eastman House. Incorporated within all of this was a museum of photography, including beautiful old cameras, and the Eastman House itself hosted sections left pretty much as they were when Eastman died at his own hand decades ago -- right down to book shelves stocked with the same volumes the inventor had owned during his extraordinary life.
Since my visit there in the seventies, Rochester has evolved, and as is the case for a number of Northeastern cities, not always for the better. Kodak, to be honest, slipped and fell in the eighties as the digital age advanced faster than the Taliban in Afghanistan and corporate officials appeared blind-sided, stubbornly committed to the production of better films and videotapes instead of digital versatility. It didn't take long for Kodak to play catch-up, but precious time lost in such matters can be monumentally problematic for a company's future. Anyway, I'm not writing today to claim insight into or second-guessing at Kodak. Instead. . .
What's up, Kodak? Did you, too, fall in with corporations dedicated to licking China's boots? Sadly, the answer appears affirmative.
Back in July, the
New York Times reported that Eastman Kodak deleted an Instagram post showing photos of Xinjiang in western China, allegedly a location of brutality and extreme human rights violations. The Instagram posting had been an attempt to promote the work of French photographer Patrick Wack, who assembled his images into a book. Initially, Kodak had given Wack a tremendous boost by uploading 10 of his images, all accomplished on Kodak film, to its own account featuring a little less than one million Instagram followers.
Apparently, however, China erupted into full-blown offended mode when, on Kodak's same Instagram account, Patrick Wack introduced his photos as a visual chronicle of Xinjiang's "abrupt descent into an Orwellian dystopia" over recent years.
Unfortunately, Kodak, once the take-no-prisoners photographic gem of the USA (remember early NASA photos which helped us understand the universe in superb color and detail?) seems to have melted in reaction to the growl of the Chinese dog. Kodak immediately deleted the post and then, perhaps taking a tip from President Obama's consistent apology tour, apologized for "any misunderstanding or offense" the whole affair may have caused.
The
NY Times article continues in some depth, but from a personal standpoint I can only admit how sorry I am, not for Chinese communist monsters, but for the social media spoilage of a once-major Rochester corporation which can't even bother to stand up for human rights in the year 2021. Obviously, Kodak has plenty of corporate company as the current president mixes critical race theory into the mix of treating China and its hideous excesses with kid gloves. Of some solace is the fact that Kodak received considerable blow-back from customers and fans who don't cater to deleting posts based upon offending China - or any other entity. How long will Kodak and other companies continue to be politically correct at the peril of our own society? As somebody who once briefly basked within the corporate and historical structure of Eastman Kodak to assist in getting a magnificent story right, I fear for the integrity of research documented in the future.
One wonders how old George Eastman himself would take to this situation, were he alive today.
(Insider's information: Before visiting Kodak in 1979, I was firmly instructed NOT to inquire whether George Eastman had actually been a homosexual, because I might offend staffers and, in any event, would receive no helpful response. The gay rumors had swirled about for years and, at least at that time, the subject was apparently taboo within the context of a very sensitive corporate image. In the current day, had Eastman been outed as gay, his story would likely be announced with glee on the cover of every tabloid in America. I don't know if anybody ever determined the truth about these rumors, but it is true that as an old man Eastman killed himself with a gun in his bedroom, leaving behind a brief note stating words to the effect that his work was finished, so "Why wait?")
Rochester Encounter No. 3: There is no such encounter, but I was reminded of comedian Jack Benny's black sidekick Eddie Anderson, whose stage name of "Rochester" probably kept the city in the public eye for quite some time. And he was always funny as Benny's seldom-accommodating "employee," too.