'Being on air was the North Star for him': Frank Cameron retires at 85 - Action News
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Nova Scotia

'Being on air was the North Star for him': Frank Cameron retires at 85

An icon of the Atlantic Canadian airwaves has hung up his mic, bringing an end to a career that spanned more than 60 years in private radio and with CBC.

Iconic broadcaster for CBC and private radio hangs up the mic

Frank Cameron gazes at the camera over his glasses rim while standing beside a photo for a sock hop at Frank's Bandstand in a black and white photo.
Frank Cameron stands beside an old poster advertising his show, Frank's Bandstand. (Photo courtesy of Pottersfield Press)

An icon of the Atlantic Canadian airwaves has hung up his mic, bringing an end to a career that spanned more than 60 years in private radio and the CBC.

In his book,I Owe It All to Rock andRoll (and the CBC), Frank Cameron says it started in Grade 5 when he wrote a "scandal sheet" about his fellow students and teachers.

In 1955, he got his first job in radio, straight out of high school,working at CKECin New Glasgow, N.S. "I had the radio bug and there was nothing my mom or dad could do about it," he writes.

He moved to Halifax in 1959 and built his name in private radio before hosting Frank's Bandstand for CBC television in the 1960s. He worked at CBCuntil 1995.

What a party! Frank Cameron attends N.S. Mardi Gras in 1993

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In 1993, then-CBC reporter Frank Cameron went to Cheticamp, N.S., to find out about one of the best kept secrets in Nova Scotia.

Don Connolly worked alongside Cameron for decades, at one point hosting the morning CBC radio show while Cameron hosted the afternoon program.

"Frank Cameron was an archetype," he says, noting he started his career by hanging around radio stations, taking odd jobsand working his way to the mic.

Connolly says it's hard for "anyone under the age of 50" to understand the mysterious thrill of tuning into live radio in the 1950s and 1960s. He recalls the excitement of catching a radio signalfrom New York, and the buzz that came when your town got its own live radio station.

"It was a little bigger than small-town life," he says.

a black and white photo shows a young man holding a record over another man's head in a radio studio in the 1950s.
Frank Cameron, left, hamming it up, holding the vinyl over Don Campbell at CKCL Truro in 1958. (Photo courtesy of Pottersfield Press)

Cameron was a rare crossover talent who could host a live TV rock show like Frank's Bandstand, anchor the nightly news, deliver the weather, or host an afternoon or late-night radio show full of laughs, stories and songs.

Connolly contrasts Cameron with his own career. Connolly expected to go to university and run the family construction business. Journalism, and radio specifically, was a side trip that became the main path for him. He says he always could have walked away. "Which is the polar opposite of Frank. Being on air was like the North Star for him," he says.

"His deep passion for communicating was clearly understood by his audience. Listening to Frank, you knew that Frank loved what he was doing and cared very deeply to be able to make that connection with people who were listening to him, or watching him on television."

Connolly says whatever Cameron was hosting, his enthusiasm for the medium shone through. "He loved it before he actually worked in it, he loved it the entire time he did it, and he probably loves it now."

A new wave at Seaside FM

After retiring from CBC, Cameron returned to private radio at CHNSin Halifax for another decade before retiring again. But Wayne Harrett, then the general manager of the community station Seaside FM, came calling. Cameron found his fans waiting for him when he started broadcasting there in 2005.

Riley Murphy was an intern at Seaside FM when he first met Cameron. Today, he's the community station's general manager.

"I clung to every bit of knowledge I could from him because I know he's done it all. He has the career every radio person, or everybody in media, wants. He's done it all and inspired so many people. Any conversation with Frank, you could learn something," Murphy says.

Sometimes it was the ability to laugh at your mistakes. Cameron once told him his keen ear for rock music allowed him to predict early on that the Beatles "would never make it," before seeing the error of his ways.

Murphy says Cameron is a living history of radio and rock n' roll, and his old-school style of being the DJ who played the songs people loved served him well in his tenure at Seaside FM.

Two men stand back to back giving the thumbs up.
Cameron poses with his friend and one of his favourite musicians, Bobby Curtola. (Photo courtesy of Pottersfield Press)

"He had such a loyal following that if he missed a day, our phones would ring off the hook," Murphy says. "People miss the old days of radio and they miss having a companion they can listen to."

Seaside FM paid tribute to the legend in November, when his colleague Gail Rice hosted a live four-hour retirement show for him.

"Her phone was ringing off the hook, the office phone was ringing off the hook. We even had people showing up with signs. It was an incredible day. A lot of teary eyes. Just an incredible day in radio," Murphy says.