Here’s a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal.

This green plot shall be our stage,

This hawthorn-brake

Our tiring house.

– Shakespeare, A Midsummer’s Night’s Dream, III,1

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was a time of laughter, a time of tears, but most of all, it was a time of hope. And no, this may not be a tale of two cities, but rather a tale of an organisation that had an incredible impact on the media landscape of Jamaica. I’m referring to the Even though I was not actually ‘on staff’ at the During those early years, while I was still in primary school, I would accompany my dad on many outside broadcasts, among them,When television first came to Jamaica, early 60s, it was an exciting time. We watched everything, from sign on to sign off, and even ogled the test pattern. We could not close our doors at night as people congregated at our gate for a glimpse of this new wonder box.Little did I know that my calling in life was to be a television producer/director. Up to that point, I was immersed in early radio, but now along came television, and I was to become a part of it.That’s why we were called Even so, I didn’t seek employment there, but instead, found my way to the At that time That show was just like I was the first director of I was commissioned to direct many major broadcasts, among them outside state broadcasts and national stuff from Parliament, and remember working closely with General Manager Mrs Gloria Lannaman on many of these. Another general manager, Wycliffe Bennett, also saw merit in my work, and utilised my services a lot. In fact, he dedicated two full pages of my professional history in his book,A stint in the newsroom under the guidance of ace newsman Consie Walters was memorable. But I had a slight problem there…I couldn’t edit video. The The talent pool was amazing, with people like Roy Lawrence, Dwight Whylie, Ken Maxwell, Uriel Aldridge, Lindy Delaphena, Charles Lewin, Elaine Wint, Gladstone Wilson, Beverly Anderson Manley, now Duncan, Erica Allen, Fae Ellington and others. Their voices were household names and adored. They were true professionals, and I must state that Elaine Wint is the only presenter who I ever worked with who didn’t need a script to introduce, link, or close a programme. Fae Ellington was the most exciting and versatile who could do elegant productions of pomp and circumstance, to dancing kumina in the streets. It was an amazing time for the country, and for our personal and professional development. Even now I can still remember names like Dennis Djick, hope I spelt that correctly, Laurie Stewart, Rupert Linton who was there step by step beside MG Robinson; Mervin Carby and Don Blades in master control; Oval Lue, Mel Blake and Leslie Campbell in engineering.I remember the turmoil of the time, the firing of the entire newsroom, the strikes and the layoffs. I will never forget one fateful Friday evening when many staffers got their pink slips and were told to leave the compound, never to return. The tears and plaintive wails of one staffer still haunt me as he showed me his dismissal letter. “Thirteen years, Teerob, thirteen years of my life and it comes to this.” It was a terrible time for these people with whom I worked closely with. One day my dad asked me to accompany him to a General managers came and went, but one person who outlasted many of them was Deputy General Manager Tino Barovier. No matter what GM came and left, Tino was always there. People would gather at the I virtually grew up in those studios of the Sometimes we called for a film clip to run and the film broke, leaving the on-air presenter with a blank stare and wondering what to do. Decades later, I still see that happening now, with the same lame apology, “So sorry for the absence of that clip, we’ll get back to that story later.”What an adventure working with the Call it what you will, a rose is a rose is a rose, and the spirit of the More time.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was a time of laughter, a time of tears, but most of all, it was a time of hope. And no, this may not be a tale of two cities, but rather a tale of an organisation that had an incredible impact on the media landscape of Jamaica.

I’m referring to the Jamaica Broadcasting Corporation (JBC) that was more than a workplace, but proved to be a training ground, a teaching tool, a lifestyle and a place of hope for many.

Even though I was not actually ‘on staff’ at the JBC, I shared the hopes and dreams of that organisation, and spent over half of my professional life working there due mainly to my father, MG Robinson, a pioneer in broadcasting and the first employee of the JBC.

During those early years, while I was still in primary school, I would accompany my dad on many outside broadcasts, among them,

The Lou and Ranny Show, with Louise Bennet and Ranny Williams, Bim and Bam comedy shows and others. These radio programmes were recorded live before an audience, complete with sound effects such as two coconut shells knocking together, a flat board being slapped in the palm of the hand and other low-tech stuff. But the shows were great, and I was there, with my headset on, acting as if I was a part of the production.

When television first came to Jamaica, early 60s, it was an exciting time. We watched everything, from sign on to sign off, and even ogled the test pattern. We could not close our doors at night as people congregated at our gate for a glimpse of this new wonder box.

Little did I know that my calling in life was to be a television producer/director. Up to that point, I was immersed in early radio, but now along came television, and I was to become a part of it.

That’s why we were called JBC babies, a term coined by broadcaster Tony Patel, who also graced those halls from a very early age. In fact, Tony Patel and I were neighbours on Maxfield Avenue, and grew up as young boys through the years, until now. We wereJBC babies.

Even so, I didn’t seek employment there, but instead, found my way to the Jamaica Information Service TV (JIS TV) headed by Carey Robinson, no relation, but my first boss and mentor. Carey went on to be general manager of theJBC. He was among a number of Robinsons to be involved at that organisation, among them, Joyce Robinson, Claude Robinson, Adrian Robinson… no relation to me.

At that time JIS TV was located at South Odeon Avenue on the same compound as the JBC and we used their studios and crew to do our programmes. As a young television director I learned so much from those who were pioneers in TV directing at the time. After my internship as a production assistant, I made sure to hone my skills of television directing from people like Freddie Burrough and Jean Barnes of the JIS, and JBC TV directors Don Bucknor, Julius McCalla, Desmond Elliot, and Alphonso Walker, who produced the hit TV teenage dance show, Where It’s At.

That show was just like Soul Train in the USA and exposed so much talent of the time. Between honing my directing skills at the JBC studios and getting further training at BBC London, I must have been okay at my profession, for theJBC started to utilise my services as a freelancer. I use the term loosely, for I virtually lived in those studios.

I was the first director of Morning Time, along with Lukkee Chung, on alternate days. I was also heavily involved in theEvening Time productions, producing and directing numerous features. It was always a pleasure to ask Dennis Hall to voice features. No matter how busy Dennis was, he always made time to come and lend his voice to those productions.

I was commissioned to direct many major broadcasts, among them outside state broadcasts and national stuff from Parliament, and remember working closely with General Manager Mrs Gloria Lannaman on many of these. Another general manager, Wycliffe Bennett, also saw merit in my work, and utilised my services a lot. In fact, he dedicated two full pages of my professional history in his book,

The Jamaican Theatre.

A stint in the newsroom under the guidance of ace newsman Consie Walters was memorable. But I had a slight problem there…I couldn’t edit video. The JIS used film, which was what I learned, and video was fairly new to me. Not to worry, Leo Oreggio gave me a crash course in video editing, for which I am eternally grateful. I spent many hours sneaking in and out of those editing suites, editing old footage and cartoons, honing my skills at this new craft.

The talent pool was amazing, with people like Roy Lawrence, Dwight Whylie, Ken Maxwell, Uriel Aldridge, Lindy Delaphena, Charles Lewin, Elaine Wint, Gladstone Wilson, Beverly Anderson Manley, now Duncan, Erica Allen, Fae Ellington and others. Their voices were household names and adored.

They were true professionals, and I must state that Elaine Wint is the only presenter who I ever worked with who didn’t need a script to introduce, link, or close a programme. Fae Ellington was the most exciting and versatile who could do elegant productions of pomp and circumstance, to dancing kumina in the streets. It was an amazing time for the country, and for our personal and professional development.

Even now I can still remember names like Dennis Djick, hope I spelt that correctly, Laurie Stewart, Rupert Linton who was there step by step beside MG Robinson; Mervin Carby and Don Blades in master control; Oval Lue, Mel Blake and Leslie Campbell in engineering.

I remember the turmoil of the time, the firing of the entire newsroom, the strikes and the layoffs. I will never forget one fateful Friday evening when many staffers got their pink slips and were told to leave the compound, never to return. The tears and plaintive wails of one staffer still haunt me as he showed me his dismissal letter. “Thirteen years, Teerob, thirteen years of my life and it comes to this.” It was a terrible time for these people with whom I worked closely with.

One day my dad asked me to accompany him to a JBC general manager’s house to pick up the company car. That GM left work that evening and his services were terminated even while he was at home. Cautiously, I drove my dad’s car while he drove the company car.

General managers came and went, but one person who outlasted many of them was Deputy General Manager Tino Barovier. No matter what GM came and left, Tino was always there.

People would gather at the JBC gates to air their grouses on a regular basis. Among them were people of unsound mind. I remember meeting one such raggedy man who told me that American singer Brooke Benton had stolen all his songs. When I asked him to prove it he proceeded to sing a slew of Brook Benton’s hit songs. He was good too.

I virtually grew up in those studios of the JBC, even using the music library to select music for the daily live JIS programmes. On those live shows, background music was played from a turntable, tapes from reel to reel decks, and cardboard title and name captions flipped live on the air. Sometimes they fell, causing much amusement to all. But live TV really honed your skills as a director, as you always had to think quickly on your feet.

Sometimes we called for a film clip to run and the film broke, leaving the on-air presenter with a blank stare and wondering what to do. Decades later, I still see that happening now, with the same lame apology, “So sorry for the absence of that clip, we’ll get back to that story later.”

What an adventure working with the JBC was. It really made its impact on the media landscape, churning out extremely talented people who still make their mark today. Voices like Merrick Needham’s, (former GM) come along once in a lifetime. People like Louis Burke and Clevans Wilson who started as cameramen and then became directors, are still involved even though the name is nowTVJ.

Call it what you will, a rose is a rose is a rose, and the spirit of the JBC lives on. I am indeed fortunate to have been a JBC baby. There’s so much more, but another time.

More time.

seido1@hotmail.com

Footnote: So many wonderful people passed through that institution, the JBC, including my late father, MG Robinson, affectionately called MG. He got no awards, no big accolades, but left behind a legacy that many people benefitted from, including me. Many doors were opened for me because of how he treated people. “You are MG’s son? Come man, I have to treat you good, same way he treated me.” I hope that I can pass that legacy on to my children.