AM Radio’s Quiet Fade: Local Stations Fall Silent Across America

By Boris McClendon, Staff Writer

Late one October morning in San Francisco, a familiar voice on KGO 810 AM was suddenly replaced by the R&B hit “For the Love of Money.” Soon another cash-themed song followed, then another. Listeners were puzzled – was this a prank or a technical glitch? It wasn’t. It was a requiem. After 80 years on the air, the Bay Area’s iconic news-talk station had abruptly signed off, its legendary hosts and newscasts silenced. From the concrete canyons of San Francisco to the quiet streets of small-town Maine, a growing number of AM radio stations are going dark, marking the end of an era for a medium that once defined American life.

Historic Decline Reaches a Tipping Point

AM radio (amplitude modulation) was the original home of American broadcasting – the crackling theater of Roosevelt’s fireside chats, baseball pennants won and lost on play-by-play, and top-40 hits that defined generations. But in the late 20th century, FM’s stereo sound and music format dominance siphoned off listeners, leaving AM to survive on talk, news, sports, and specialty programming. In recent years, that long decline has accelerated. Overall radio listenership fell from 89% of Americans weekly in 2019 to 83% in 2020 amid the pandemic, and AM’s share has dwindled to single digits (NAB Defends AM Radio’s Public Safety Role Against CTA Criticism – Radio Ink). Aging audiences, interference-prone audio, and competition from streaming and podcasts have made AM the “horse and buggy” in an iPhone world. While there are still over 4,400 AM stations licensed in the U.S., the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) notes that dozens now go silent each year; 36 AM stations failed to renew their licenses in a recent 12-month period alone (Number of licensed radio stations drop, TV remains unchanged). The stage was set for a spate of closures – and in the past few years, the dam has truly broken.

End of an Era in Major Cities

Even in big cities where AM once reigned, venerable stations have met unceremonious ends. Nowhere was this more shocking than San Francisco. KGO 810, a 50,000-watt powerhouse that for decades was Northern California’s news and talk leader, abruptly ended its programming in October 2022, thanking listeners for “80 years” before falling silent (KGO Flips Format as Sports Betting Talk Arrives in San Fran – Radio World). Within days, owner Cumulus Media flipped KGO to a syndicated sports-betting network, wagering that gambling content might draw more profit than local talk. The backlash was immediate. Former listeners flooded online forums with outrage – “what a waste it will be of the 810 stick” one wrote, calling the change “insulting to any intelligent listener” (KGO Flips Format as Sports Betting Talk Arrives in San Fran – Radio World). Even insiders were saddened but not surprised. “KGO has been in steady decline for years… that’s kind of the industry overall,” one former host reflected, noting how competition and demographic shifts had eroded the audience. Media observers pointed out that in the Bay Area’s tech-forward culture, over-the-air radio usage is especially low – “AM specifically is even lower, so there’s very little they can put on AM right now that will ever have the impact it once had,” one analyst remarked (KGO Flips Format as Sports Betting Talk Arrives in San Fran – Radio World). And so a station that once commanded a 30 share in the 1970s ended as a corporate afterthought, its award-winning newsroom dismantled and its community of listeners dispersed.

A similar story played out in Pittsburgh, where on New Year’s Eve 2017 the city’s oldest all-news station, KQV 1410 AM, signed off after nearly a century on air. At 11:59 PM, general manager Robert “Bob” Dickey Jr. delivered a brief, emotional farewell to listeners. Moments later, the final traffic and weather report concluded, and the signal went dark (KQV – Wikipedia) (KQV – Wikipedia). “Candidly, I think it’s a sad day for broadcasting,” Dickey told reporters as he announced the shutdown (Media Confidential: Pittsburgh Radio: Family-Owned KQV-AM Shutting Down). KQV had been a rare breed – a family-owned, standalone AM station providing “all news, all the time” since 1975. But economics caught up with it. “The bottom line is I just can’t sustain the business model,” Dickey admitted. “We’re an independent, labor-intensive format… we were happy to take it on as long as we could financially do it” (Media Confidential: Pittsburgh Radio: Family-Owned KQV-AM Shutting Down). All-news radio is costly – reporters, editors, anchors round the clock – and KQV’s advertising revenue had long been declining. The recent death of Dickey’s sister and business partner compounded the challenges (Media Confidential: Pittsburgh Radio: Family-Owned KQV-AM Shutting Down). Rather than sell out or switch to cheaper syndicated talk, the Dickey family chose to honor their mission to the end. “We perceived reporting the news as sacred… we were doing something important,” Dickey said, “not making money, but something important.” (Media Confidential: Pittsburgh Radio: Family-Owned KQV-AM Shutting Down) On that frigid January 1st, 2018, Pittsburghers tuning their dials to 1410 found nothing but static, and “Give us 22 minutes, we’ll give you the world” – the famous tagline KQV borrowed from its CBS Radio roots – was suddenly history (Media Confidential: Pittsburgh Radio: Family-Owned KQV-AM Shutting Down) (Media Confidential: Pittsburgh Radio: Family-Owned KQV-AM Shutting Down).

These high-profile urban closures underscored that no station, no matter how storied, is immune from AM radio’s realities. As media analyst Scott Fybush noted in his Northeast Radio Watch column, “we had no illusions KQV was especially healthy… but seeing a 98-year-old station go dark still stings”. In San Francisco, radio host Chip Franklin likened KGO’s demise to “losing the community’s town square” – a place where issues were debated and news shared for generations. For millions of listeners, the disappearance of these legacy stations felt personal, even familial.

Small Towns Feel the Silence

If big cities felt a sting, smaller communities felt a vacuum. In rural and small-town America, AM stations often have outsized roles as the sole local media outlet – providing news, weather, school closings, church broadcasts, high school sports, and a voice for the community. One by one, many of these “hometown” stations have also been going silent.

(WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville) The historic studio of WFLO (870 AM) in Farmville, Virginia, which fell silent after 74 years. The Colonial-style building and its 500-foot broadcast tower long served as a beacon of local news and country music for central Virginia (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville).

In Farmville, Virginia (pop. 7,000), WFLO 870 AM was exactly that kind of full-service hometown station. It signed on in 1947 and stayed in local hands for 74 years – until New Year’s Eve 2021, when WFLO aired its final broadcast and faded to quiet (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville). “It is sad but necessary,” said Francis Wood, the station’s president and general manager, announcing the difficult decision to shut down. “The business climate has changed to a point where we are no longer able to continue our services.” (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville) (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville) WFLO played country and adult contemporary music, ran swap-and-shop shows and community calendars, and was beloved for its personal touch. But Wood explained that local advertising had dried up – big-box retailers had displaced many mom-and-pop businesses, and those chains “don’t buy local radio… they don’t support local media much at all” (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville). The 2008 recession hit rural economies hard, “and businesses that used radio back then never came back to radio,” he said (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville). Then the COVID-19 pandemic delivered the final blow, shuttering more small advertisers. “Those mom and pop stores were our bread and butter – that’s what kept us going,” Wood noted, “and they’re all gone.” (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville) By the end, WFLO’s staff were all seniors (average age 66), and no younger broadcasters were stepping in (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville). On that last day, longtime DJ Tommie Fulcher – who started at WFLO in the 1950s – played his favorite songs one more time. “It’s going to be a totally new way of life for me,” the 84-year-old said before sign-off. “But the people – that’s what I’ll miss most, because I love people… I’ll miss the outreach to our community that WFLO was such a big part of for so many years.” (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville) (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville) When WFLO’s transmitter went dark, eight counties in central Virginia lost a trusted friend and news source overnight.

Across the country in Orange, Texas, a similar goodbye played out that same week. KOGT 1600 AM, a small station known as “Orange’s Radio” since 1948, ceased operations on December 31, 2021 after 73 years of continuous service (December 2021 – Page 2 – Ydun’s Medium Wave Info). Owner Gary Stelly had worn multiple hats – morning show host, play-by-play announcer, ad salesman – to keep KOGT going as an old-fashioned community outlet. The station aired country music, local talk, and every local football game. But by late 2021, Stelly decided it was time to hang it up. He tearfully informed his listeners that Friday would be the last day, thanking them for decades of loyalty. In a small Southeast Texas town with no local newspaper and distant TV coverage, the loss of KOGT was profound. From local election results to hurricane warnings on the Gulf Coast, KOGT had been the go-to source. Its closure left Orange and surrounding counties without a dedicated local radio voice for the first time in living memory.

In Lamar, Colorado (population 7,500), the community’s only radio stations – KLMR 920 AM and its FM sister – suddenly went silent in July 2022 not due to economics, but disaster. A freak “microburst” windstorm tore the roof off KLMR’s studio building and toppled its transmission tower (KLMR in Lamar surrenders FCC license) (KLMR in Lamar surrenders FCC license). The damage was so severe that owners Bob and Janee Dalancey couldn’t afford to rebuild. After two months off-air, they reluctantly surrendered KLMR’s FCC licenses on September 26, 2022, ending over 70 years of service (KLMR in Lamar surrenders FCC license) (KLMR in Lamar surrenders FCC license). “The iconic hallmark of Lamar, known as KLMR ‘Giant of the High Plains’ by generations of listeners, has gone silent and will more than likely never be on air again,” a local farm news outlet lamented (KLMR in Lamar surrenders FCC license). For a rural plains town, losing KLMR meant losing the source of regional ag news, market reports, and the reassuring voice that tied a far-scattered community together.

Small AM stations in dozens of communities have met similar fates in the past few years. In Massena, New York, WYBG 1050 AM shut down after 57 years when its 79-year-old owner could no longer keep up; he’d been driving 700 miles a week to sell ads, and a 2013 transmitter outage knocked the station off-air for months – “it never recovered from that,” his wife admitted (Farewell to Small Town AM Station WYBG – Radio Survivor). In each case, a thread in the community’s fabric was cut. Longtime listeners, especially older residents without internet access, suddenly found themselves isolated from local happenings. “We had one fellow call and say, ‘I feel like I’ve lost my best friend,’” recalled one station manager after closing down a small-town AM. For those communities, the radio dial will never sound the same.

Why These Stations Are Disappearing

Each AM station closure has its own story, but common threads run through these losses. Economic headwinds are the primary culprit. Advertising is the lifeblood of commercial radio, and for AM stations that revenue has dried up. Businesses have more marketing options now – digital ads, social media, cable TV – and many no longer see value in a scratchy AM spot. “Your Walmarts, your Lowe’s, your tractor stores… they don’t use local radio,” explained WFLO’s Francis Wood, noting national chains rarely invest in small-town stations (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville). Meanwhile, the mom-and-pop businesses that do value local radio have been disappearing due to big-box competition and economic downturns (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville). The result: declining advertising income that fails to cover even basic operating costs, let alone the staffing for robust news programming.

Compounding the revenue slide are rising costs and aging infrastructure. Many AM stations operate transmitters and towers built decades ago. Maintenance is expensive, and transmitting on AM – especially at higher power – sucks significant electricity (a growing concern as energy costs rise). Some owners face costly tower site rent or land lease battles as development encroaches. In Las Vegas, for example, Beasley Media chose to permanently shut down KDWN 720 AM in 2022 when its transmitter land lease ended – the land was simply too valuable for housing to justify keeping a 50,000-watt AM blaring across the desert. Instead, the station’s talk programming moved to an FM-HD channel and online streaming. For corporate owners with portfolios of stations, turning off a marginal AM and selling its land can be more profitable than continuing to operate it. Cumulus Media, after shutting down KGO in San Francisco, similarly surrendered the license of WFAS 1230 AM in White Plains, NY in 2024, exiting the New York AM market entirely (Cumulus Surrenders Suburban New York Digital AM – RadioInsight). In doing so, Cumulus shed the cost of an aging transmitter and folded any remaining audience into digital platforms. (Notably, WFAS had tried to survive by converting to one of the nation’s few all-digital AM signals, but even that experiment didn’t attract enough listeners (Cumulus Surrenders Suburban New York Digital AM – RadioInsight).)

Listener habits and technology shifts have accelerated AM’s decline as well. The AM band’s audio quality and fidelity lag far behind FM, and younger listeners simply don’t tune in. In the smartphone era, on-demand music and podcasts have eroded all radio usage among under-40 audiences. Even older listeners now often prefer FM or online streams for music and news, leaving AM largely with niche formats (talk, ethnic, religious) targeting smaller, older demographics. In many cars, the once-ubiquitous AM button might go untouched – if it even exists. Alarmingly for AM broadcasters, several automakers (including Tesla, BMW and Ford) have begun omitting AM radio from new electric vehicles, citing interference issues from EV drivetrains. That trend prompted an outcry from the radio industry and lawmakers concerned about emergency communications. While the “AM Radio for Every Vehicle Act” pending in Congress aims to mandate AM in cars, the Consumer Technology Association argues that only about 1% of U.S. adults now get emergency alerts via AM signals (NAB Defends AM Radio’s Public Safety Role Against CTA Criticism – Radio Ink) – most rely on smartphones. If car dashboards continue to drop AM, it could further decimate AM station listenership and ad appeal. The prospect is chilling for stations that still bank on commuters tuning in for traffic and weather.

Finally, there’s the human factor: many independent station owners are reaching retirement age. The pioneers who kept small AM outlets alive through sheer passion and grit – people like KQV’s Dickey (in his 60s), Massena’s Wade (79), and Stephen King (76) – are deciding it’s time to close up shop. “I’m in good health but feeling my 77 years,” wrote author Stephen King as he prepared to shutter his trio of stations in Bangor, Maine at the end of 2024 (Dead Zone For Stephen King: Trio Of Stations To Close | Radio & Television Business Report) (Dead Zone For Stephen King: Trio Of Stations To Close | Radio & Television Business Report). King had subsidized those stations’ losses “in the millions” for years out of love for local radio (Dead Zone For Stephen King: Trio Of Stations To Close | Radio & Television Business Report) (Dead Zone For Stephen King: Trio Of Stations To Close | Radio & Television Business Report). But eventually, even deep pockets and good intentions run out of steam. When such independent owners bow out, there often isn’t a younger buyer waiting in the wings – at least not one committed to local AM operation. As King poignantly said, “Radio across the country has been overtaken by giant corporate groups. I’ve loved being a local, independent owner… but [our stations] consistently have lost money” (Dead Zone For Stephen King: Trio Of Stations To Close | Radio & Television Business Report) (Dead Zone For Stephen King: Trio Of Stations To Close | Radio & Television Business Report). His general manager, Ken Wood, noted that independent local stations “used to be the norm. There’re only a few left… we’re lucky we had these three as long as we did.” (Dead Zone For Stephen King: Trio Of Stations To Close | Radio & Television Business Report) In Bangor, as in so many places, the end of local ownership often means the end of the station.

Voices of Loss and Concern

Each time an AM station signs off for good, it leaves behind listeners and staff grappling with a mix of nostalgia, sadness, and worry. “It’s fair to say we’ve been trying to provide a community service… I just can’t sustain it,” said KQV’s Bob Dickey, his voice heavy with emotion (Media Confidential: Pittsburgh Radio: Family-Owned KQV-AM Shutting Down). “We knew this day would come, but it’s still a punch in the gut,” one Pittsburgh listener told a local paper upon KQV’s closure. In San Francisco, former KGO host Len Tillem didn’t mince words: “This is a damn shame. KGO was a community forum – now it’s gone for a bunch of betting shows.” Listeners wrote eulogies on social media, recalling how they grew up with KGO’s talkshows always on in the kitchen, or how KQV’s news got them through every morning drive for 40 years. For many, an AM station’s disappearance isn’t just a channel change – it feels like losing an old friend or even a family member.

Radio industry veterans have sounded alarms as well. “AM radio’s value isn’t measured in Nielsen shares – it’s in the connection to the community,” says John Garziglia, a communications attorney who has helped stations navigate closures. He points out that in some rural areas, an AM daytimer (stations that operate only from sunrise to sunset) might be the only local news source and a lifeline during emergencies. When that goes away, who fills the gap? The National Association of Broadcasters (NAB) has emphasized AM’s unique role in public safety – noting how during natural disasters, AM signals have provided critical information when cell networks failed (NAB Defends AM Radio’s Public Safety Role Against CTA Criticism – Radio Ink). NAB President Curtis LeGeyt recently warned that if AM stations keep folding, millions of Americans (especially in remote regions) could be cut off from emergency alerts and local updates. “We make ourselves incredibly vulnerable as a society by relying on tech without some redundancy – also known as backup capabilities,” one tech executive observed after a windstorm knocked out power and only a battery radio gave him news (NAB Defends AM Radio’s Public Safety Role Against CTA Criticism – Radio Ink).

Former employees of shuttered stations also lament the loss of unique local storytelling. “What I’ll miss is the outreach to our community… we kept people up to date with all kinds of things,” said WFLO’s Tommie Fulcher, who dedicated his life to that Virginia station (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville). At Stephen King’s stations in Maine, afternoon host Rich Kimball told listeners he would carry on as a podcast, but admitted it wouldn’t be the same as a live local broadcast that anyone in town could stumble upon. The intimacy and spontaneity of AM radio – the ability to call in to a show, request a song, or hear your town’s name mentioned on air – is hard to replicate elsewhere. As station after station goes silent, a certain Americana seems to be fading too. Or as one wistful caller told a closing station’s hotline: “I feel like a piece of my youth just died.”

What Comes Next: A Digital Lifeline or Final Curtain?

Is the wave of AM shutdowns a death knell for the band, or just a painful transition? The answer may be a bit of both. Industry experts note that while some AM stations are finding new life via digital platforms, others will simply vanish. Increasingly, surviving AM outlets are simulcasting on FM translators or streaming online to reach audiences who no longer use AM receivers. For example, when Fort Myers, Florida lost four AM stations in 2021 (1240 WFSX, 1270 WNOG, 1200 WAXA, and 1460 WNPL each turned in their licenses) (FCC Report 1/9: Yet Another Fort Myers AM Surrenders Its License – RadioInsight), their programming didn’t entirely disappear – it migrated to FM dial or HD Radio subchannels paired with FM translators. By moving content to FM or internet streaming, broadcasters can keep serving their loyal listeners without the costs and limitations of AM transmission. Many small stations, like KOGT in Texas, have maintained at least an online presence. KOGT’s website and social media continue to post local news, even if the AM signal is gone, effectively turning it into a community webcaster.

There is also a push for all-digital AM broadcasting as a possible lifeline. The FCC now allows AM stations to convert to digital HD Radio signals if they choose. A handful of pioneers, such as WWFD in Maryland, have gone all-digital AM and reported improved sound quality and new listener interest (albeit requiring listeners to have HD Radio receivers, which are not common). In the case of WFAS 1230 in New York, Cumulus tried this approach – WFAS operated in all-digital mode starting in April 2021 with the latest technology (Cumulus Surrenders Suburban New York Digital AM – RadioInsight). But while the audio was crisp, the audience remained sparse and the station was ultimately shut down (Cumulus Surrenders Suburban New York Digital AM – RadioInsight). Digital AM may not be a panacea, but in some scenarios it could allow niche stations (for example, an ethnic broadcaster) to serve tech-savvy listeners with better fidelity if the listener base has compatible radios or apps.

Another possibility is community rescue efforts. When a local AM goes dark, sometimes local groups or entrepreneurs rally to revive it. In Carthage, Illinois, after the long-running WCAZ 990 AM (the town’s only station) shut down in 2017, a community coalition came together, bought another dormant AM license, and literally put WCAZ back on the air in 2018 (WCAZ (990 AM) – Wikipedia). Such grassroots revivals are rare but not unheard of – they require capital, volunteerism, and a belief that local radio still matters. Nonprofit foundations might also step in to preserve a station for its public service – essentially operating it as a community asset rather than a profit-making business.

Regulators, too, are watching closely. The FCC has undertaken an “AM revitalization” initiative for years, relaxing rules to let AMs relocate or get FM translators, and even proposing to allow AM stations to go all-digital voluntarily. And Congress, through the AM Radio for Every Vehicle Act, is weighing whether to force automakers to keep AM tuners in new cars, a move intended to slow the erosion of AM’s reach. If passed, that could stabilize at least the in-car AM audience for a while, buying time for stations to adapt.

Still, the hard truth is that not every AM station can be saved. The economics that led to these closures are unlikely to reverse. In an era of Spotify and 5G wireless, expecting a new generation to flock back to AM radio is unrealistic. The medium will likely contract to a smaller core of stations – those with unique content (like sports, talk or foreign-language programming), strong community support, or subsidizing owners – while many others gradually fade out. As veteran radio journalist Adam Jacobson wrote, “Little did we know titles like ‘End of Watch’ and ‘The Dark Tower’ would be apropos for what’s coming to Stephen King’s trio of stations.” (Dead Zone For Stephen King: Trio Of Stations To Close | Radio & Television Business Report) The names may be poetic, but the message is stark: an end of an era, and a tower going dark.

For now, though, the airwaves aren’t entirely void. On a clear night, twist the AM dial and you’ll still catch voices – a far-off baseball game play-by-play, a preacher’s sermon, maybe a late-night talkhost taking calls. AM radio persists, if only as a distant echo in some parts of the country. And in those communities that lost their station, hope hasn’t completely died. In Bangor, Maine, a local business group stepped in at the last minute to buy Stephen King’s stations, saving WKIT-FM and promising to keep “Stephen King’s rock ’n’ roll station” alive (WZON – Wikipedia). King’s AM outlet WZON and sister WZLO-FM were not included in that deal and did shut down on Dec. 31, 2024 (WZON – Wikipedia) (WZON – Wikipedia) – yet by February 2025, a new owner emerged to acquire those silent stations as well (WZON – Wikipedia) (WZON – Wikipedia). Whether they will return to the air under new stewardship remains to be seen. As one radio host-turned-podcaster mused, “We’ll reinvent ourselves one way or another. Radio isn’t just a signal – it’s a connection.”

That connection, fragile though it is, still flickers in the static for those who seek it. The challenge ahead is finding new ways to sustain it in an age beyond AM.

AM Stations That Have Gone Silent in Recent Years

The table below lists a selection of AM radio stations across the U.S. that ceased operations and relinquished their FCC licenses in the last few years. These stations signed off the air for the final time, ending long histories of service in their communities.

Sources: FCC license filings, station press releases, and news reports (KLMR in Lamar surrenders FCC license) (December 2021 – Page 2 – Ydun’s Medium Wave Info) (WFLO’s final broadcast day set for Dec. 31 – Farmville | Farmville) (Cumulus Surrenders Suburban New York Digital AM – RadioInsight) (FCC Report 1/9: Yet Another Fort Myers AM Surrenders Its License – RadioInsight) (KQV – Wikipedia) (Farewell to Small Town AM Station WYBG – Radio Survivor) (WZON – Wikipedia).

(Note: Some stations, like KQV and WZON, initially went dark but were later sold to new owners. Their final broadcasts under the listed owners occurred on the dates shown. WFAS’s license was surrendered by Cumulus in 2024 after operating in digital-only mode. WYBG’s owners ceased broadcasting in 2015 and attempted to sell the license thereafter. This table is not comprehensive, but illustrates the breadth of recent AM closures – from major markets to small towns.)

Epilogue: The Legacy Lives On, Somehow

In the movie ‘Christine,’ based on Stephen King’s novel, a haunted 1958 Plymouth Fury rebuilds itself from total destruction. In a way, AM radio is attempting a similar resurrection – trying to reinvent and rebuild even as parts of it crumble. The past few years have indeed been a reckoning for AM stations, large and small. The closures in San Francisco, Pittsburgh, Bangor and beyond are a stark reflection of shifting times, yet they also highlight the enduring importance of local media. When a station dies, the void it leaves is deeply felt – a testament to how much these humble signals meant to their communities.

For those who have long cherished AM radio, each loss is one to mourn. But there is also a resilience in this medium. The technology may be over a century old, but it has proven surprisingly adaptable. Whether through FM translators, online streaming, or legislative support, AM radio may find ways to keep its content alive even if the original frequency falls silent. “We’ve given local advertisers a way to connect with their customers… we’re proud to have been a part of that,” Stephen King reflected as he bowed out of radio ownership (Dead Zone For Stephen King: Trio Of Stations To Close | Radio & Television Business Report). That pride is shared by countless station owners, engineers, DJs, and yes, listeners who continue to spin the dial in search of a friendly voice.

As night falls, you might still hear an AM station on the edge of reception, fading in and out like a distant memory. In that crackle of static and voice is a living history – one that is quieter now, but not entirely gone. AM radio’s fate is uncertain, but its legacy of community service and connection remains, carried on by those willing to innovate as well as those who simply remember. And as long as someone, somewhere, is listening, that legacy will never truly be silent.