First U.S. Spanish Language TV Station, Demolished

By Victor Landa, NewsTaco

I earned my chops in that building.

The structure had been around for two decades before I settled in, towards the back, in the newsroom just a few steps from the studio. I perfected my three-finger manual typewriter pounding in that building. I learned to tie a necktie staring down a 15 second countdown there; I became familiar with hurried deadlines and incessant newsroom banter there as well. Those were the days when we smoked in the newsroom – there was an ever-present cloud of tobacco smoke, and a constant stream of strong coffee; the pressure was great, the mission was important and the jokes were crude. Now there’s little else but rubble and empty space.

KWEX, channel 41 in San Antonio, was the first Spanish language television station in the United States.

I worked there for nine years throughout the 1980’s; started as a news videographer, carrying a huge camera on one shoulder, tethered to a heavy recorder strapped to the other. I pestered my news director, a brilliant and affable man named Jesus Javier, to try me out as a reporter. He doubted my Spanish fluency, so I enrolled at UTSA and finished a degree in Latin American Literature. With my diploma in hand, he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

There’s been an outcry in San Antonio over the demolition of the old KWEX building.

And deservedly so. That building is a national Latino cultural landmark and should be treated with more respect than it has been. There was a time, before Univision became cool, when KWEX was the flagship of a string of small Spanish broadcasters across the country. It was a time when the Nielsen ratings company hardly knew we existed. I remember hearing how the sales team would count VHS antennae in the San Antonio barrios and use that number as their viewer data – at the time channel 41 was the only station on the VHS dial, so the only reason a family had to buy the special antennae was to watch Spanish TV.

To be honest, I’m glad the folks at KWEX have new digs. That old building was outdated and probably not very healthy. I imagine some of the stale decades-old cigarette smoke still hovered in the corners; I’m sure some of the air was still laced with the frustration of those years when we were considered second-class journalists.

In those days Spanish language journalism had to wait, like a PR afterthought.

The English language TV and radio stations always went first at press events. When they were done, Spanish TV and radio had to hurry, set up equipment, and do what our English language counterparts had just done, only in one-fourth of the time and with the annoyance of the English guys striking their equipment around us, talking loudly as if we weren’t there.

I remember the shock when a new Police Chief, Albert Ortiz, decided he’d begin his press conferences in Spanish, making the English journalists wait their turn. Their resentment was palpable; but the order remained in place until Ortiz retired.

The building was raised in spurts. The first floor halls connected rooms, but not in the most efficient way. The editing bays doubled as sound booths and storage spaces. It worked the same with the news team, we doubled as each other’s stand-in’s: reported, shot video, edited, ran teleprompter, whatever it took to get the work done. It was a great place to learn a trade.

The wrecking crew was only able to finish half the job.

A group of concerned citizens obtained a court order and called the cops to stop the demolition. But by the time that happened a big chunk of the old building had been reduced to rubble.

The place has had many owners. When I was there we belonged to the Spanish International Network – we joked about working for SIN. There was no such thing as Univision. That monster was created later. At some point the station was owned by Hallmark, the greeting card company, and later by an investment group partially owned by an Inuit tribe.

I remember one occasion, when the station went from one owner to another, a thorough inventory of every asset had been done, we weren’t allowed to add a paper clip to it. It was a Friday and the property was to change hands the next morning. In the newsroom we were down to one last typewriter cartridge. We produced that evening’s show with that one ribbon, passing it from writer to writer, story to story, until the show was finished minutes before airtime.

I hear that the antennae will be saved, regardless of what happens to the main building.

That old piece of metal hasn’t spat a signal in decades, but it’s a downtown San Antonio landmark. As was the building.

And the programming is still there. You can’t take a wrecking ball to a cable signal. Univision is taking care of that itself, slowly preparing for a shrinking Spanish speaking market, locking arms with ABC on a new Latino targeted, English language network. The data suggests that Spanish will go the way of all other immigrant languages of origin. That’s precisely why this building is so important.

Yeah, it’s just a pile of brick, wood and mortar. But what happened there, what dared to happen there, is typically American in two ways. One: it was a testament to vision, grit, and can-do spirit. We had huge odds stacked against our success. And two: the history of ethnic media in the U.S. has been too easily demolished, and forgotten.

Ethnic media, Latino media specifically, goes back to the founding of the country. But you wouldn’t know that, because it’s been forgotten, erased form the history books as if it never happened. That’s the danger with what’s going on in downtown San Antonio.

I chose to work in Spanish television.

At the time I felt it was where real community story telling was happening. And I was right.

Back in the SIN days all of the network programming originated in that building. KWEX and SIN were pioneers in satellite broadcasting. We’d spool huge 2 inch video reels onto large tape machines, load 30 second commercials and PSA’s, and back-time programming to make sure the spots ran on time across the country. We produced terrific variety programs like The Johnny Canales Show, and El Show de Oscar Zamora y Don Chema. We did it all literally flying by the seat of our pants.

What you see today as Univision was built on those decades of struggle. And it shouldn’t be forgotten.

Fact: fewer than 3 percent of all national landmarks recognize minority contributions.

There’s a court hearing set for Friday to determine the fate of the building.

[Image courtesy of KSAT-TV]

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