Public-Access Radio Station May Lose Access to Its Public : Cable: KDSK offered amateurs a unique opportunity. But it may be replaced by Spanish-language programming.

Vinyl records still spin and an “On the Air” sign still glows red, but the operators of Ventura County’s lone public-access radio station fear they’ll soon have to cut power on their round-the-clock transmission.

Known as KDSK, the station offers amateur disc jockeys from across Southern California a chance to serve up their favorite music and test their radio patter, for free.

“It’s a small-town radio station and it has a small-town feeling,” on-air announcer Derek Underhill said. “It would be a shame to let it die.”

The threat to KDSK stems from the station’s unique transmission format. Not a genuine broadcast, the station cannot reach car stereos or portable radios. Instead, listeners tune into KDSK solely through their cable television wires.

A generic $3 splitter, available at any electronics store, attaches to the cable and divides it into two wires. If one loose end is plugged into a stereo receiver, presto--KDSK comes in loud and clear.

Although residents throughout the Conejo Valley, Ojai, Camarillo, Santa Paula and Fillmore can receive KDSK, no one knows how many people actually listen.

When the station played mainly modern rock on live broadcasts in the mid-1980s, disc jockeys would tally up to 100 calls an hour. Now, most of the oldies programs are pre-taped, and the KDSK hot line connects to an answering machine, which records just a handful of calls a day.

But the potential audience is huge--at least 66,000 homes. Most Ventura County Cablevision subscribers can pick up the broadcast at 106.3 FM. And Thousand Oaks residents who belong to the Falcon Cable network can catch the station at 89.1 FM.

For now.

The president of Ventura County Cablevision, David LaRue, announced earlier this month that he plans to bump KDSK in favor of a popular Spanish-language station beamed in from Los Angeles.

LaRue said he wants to add the lively KLAX to serve Latino families, especially those living in remote or mountainous areas.

Cable-carried radio stations come through crisply, even in communities where regular radio transmissions disintegrate into scratchy static. Thus, many Ventura County residents depend on cable wires for their music. To offer more variety to those subscribers, LaRue decided to pick up KLAX.

But to make room for a new station, he had to shut down an existing broadcast--and he chose KDSK, the all-volunteer, nonprofit station that has no known ratings and few known fans.

“Hispanics are generally underserved by us, and here we were again not carrying the most popular Los Angeles (Spanish-language) station,” LaRue said. “We thought we’d pick it up and take off the weakest ones.”

The cable company would not make money either way, LaRue said, because radio stations do not pay fees to have their shows transmitted through cable wires. So if KDSK boosters can persuade him that their station serves an important niche, LaRue promised to consider preserving the broadcast.

“We can be flexible,” LaRue said. “We don’t have an ax to grind.”

Already, KDSK fans are plotting how to save their station.

They gained the support of Mayor Alex Fiore and several council members with a plaintive presentation at City Hall last week.

And station director Steve Ricketts has put together a tape of congratulatory calls from listeners who love the oldies format. In message after message, callers praise KDSK for playing rarely heard songs.

“Anyone who comes by to visit, I make them sit down and listen for at least an hour,” one caller said. Another commented simply, “Thanks for the memories.” And a third gushed appreciatively when KDSK disc jockeys dug up the 1959 Everly Brothers tune “Take a Message to Mary,” which he wanted to dedicate to his girlfriend.

Echoing many callers, the grateful Everly Brothers fan concluded with a question: “How can we get you on the regular radio?”

In fact, several of KDSK’s eight regular disc jockeys have appeared on the “regular radio.” Gary (The Bomber) Bombalicki, who has taped dozens of oldies programs, worked as an on-air announcer for both KROQ and KNJO.

Dissatisfied with the pay, he quit to become a regional manager for Century Cable in Los Angeles. But he still loves the radio, and can’t resist driving from his Chatsworth home to record shows in the KDSK studio.

“All of us, we have it in our blood,” Bombalicki said.

Anyone with broadcast ambition can pop into KDSK’s Thousand Oaks studio and tape a program for the station’s “Sound Souvenirs” oldies show. If they need material, they can draw on station director Ricketts’ personal library of at least 12,000 singles and albums, dating back four decades.

The 24-hour broadcast focuses on oldies music. But Ricketts welcomes some variety.

Those with a taste for more modern beats can put together new-wave or reggae shows. In past years, amateur announcers have aired talk shows, astrology predictions and even political commentary.

Just about anything goes--as long as it’s in good taste.

“It would be wonderful for discussing issues,” Councilwoman Jaime Zukowski said. “It certainly is a community resource. The fact is, though, that a large number of people have never heard of it.”

KDSK’s relative obscurity doesn’t bother the disc jockeys.

“We’re not here to gain ratings,” said Ricketts, who has poured about $400,000 into his home studio over the years.

A limousine driver and former car mechanic, Ricketts has always felt passionately about radio. He set up his first amateur broadcast at age 12 with a homemade transmitter, and soon invited neighborhood kids to help. He owns more sophisticated equipment now, but he’s just as eager to share.

“Our function is to provide a service for people who want to play radio,” Ricketts said. “No other station will just say, ‘Hey, come in and use our studio whenever you want.’ ”

Testifying to the unique quality of KDSK, amateur broadcaster Bert Donaldson drives all the way from San Diego to tape shows in the Thousand Oaks studio. “It’s a really fun thing to do,” he explained.

When Donaldson records a three-hour program--under the pseudonym Don McDonald--KDSK plays it over and over, slipping it into a regular rotation that includes hundreds of pre-taped shows.

Of the regular KDSK disc jockeys, only Underhill regularly does live shows.

In real life, Underhill works as a broadcast engineer at the Santa Anita racetrack. But when he steps into the studio, he shuffles off his workaday personality and becomes Derek Lloyd, a dramatic, deep-voiced announcer with a decidedly wacky streak.

Promoting himself as “Derek Lloyd, filling your rock ‘n’ roll void,” he mimics radio personalities of the 1950s. He even dredges up old phrases, promising “Stacks of wax to help you relax” and touting “The big boss beat of KD Radio.” And he readily responds to requests, with the motto: “You say it, we play it.”

He plays it, that is, as long as it’s the original. No remixed CD-slick tunes will air on his show. True to KDSK’s oldies format, Underhill sticks religiously to music that “sounds the way you remember hearing it as a kid.”