Dale Midnight

Half country preacher, half desert prophet, spinning his own records for an hour every weeknight at midnight. He drove out to find the tower once. There was no road. There was a song instead.

Dale Midnight keeps the midnight hour on weeknights, an hour he insists is the only honest one. He came up somewhere between a tent revival and a truck-stop AM dial, the shortest road anybody has found to explain the voice. Paul Harvey by way of Art Bell, gravel all the way down. He spins his own records, no playlist, no producer telling him to move it along. He drove out once to find the tower. He says there was no road where the road should have been, just a song coming up out of the dirt that knew his name, and he turned the truck around and has not gone back. Callers are welcome. Callers rarely make it through. The station only runs him weeknights now because Dale on a weekend costs more than the signal brings in.

Filed under invented. Everyone on this floor is.