Wolfman Jack: White R&B Radio DJ Beloved by Black People

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In the pantheon of legendary, Black and white radio disc jockeys who played original Black rhythm and blues nationwide, to me the best was the late “Wolfman Jack,” a white DJ beloved by Black people in Milwaukee, and elsewhere.

Wolfman looked, and acted, like his name with a wild black beard and wolf howls. Black Milwaukeeans who saw and heard him in 1973’s American Graffiti—and revere original Black R&B—overwhelmingly agree.

While the Wolfman was my fave, many Black and white DJs held forth in America. Happily, we were able to hear most of the rest on radio here in town—including eight Milwaukeeans—and the others. To wit: 

Hoss Allen, Al Benson, Jack “Junior” Black, Homer Blow, Vivian Carter, Ed Castleberry, Dick Clark, Don Cornelius, Lucky Cordell, Ron Cuzner, Daddy-O-Daley, Gregg Drust, Chuck Dunaway, Jim Frazier, Allen Freed, Hal Jackson, Douglas “Jocko” Henderson, Felix Hernandez, Bobby Jay, Dr. Jive, Jay Johnson, Herb Kent, “Chattie Hattie” Leeper, Dan Ingram, Hoyt “Dr. Bop” Locke, Mary Louise, Mannie Mauldin Jr., Sid McCoy, Daddy-Yo “Hot Rod” McDowell, Nathaniel “Magnificent” Montague, Eddie O’Jay, Evelyn Robinson, Tommy “Mr. Jive” Smalls, O.C. White and Randy Wood.

An impressive array, to be sure. Yet, to me—as a lifelong devotee of the unique doo-wop/R&B sound they loved and played on radio—the Wolfman (real name Robert Smith) ruled the roost from the 1950s-‘80s. And he was, by far, the most unique and most popular with Black listeners. And what a character! A true original.

American Graffiti

I first heard Wolfman Jack on the air in New York from 1970-‘74. And I also recall, with gusto, when I interviewed him for one of my early R&B newspaper columns.

But perhaps my best recollection of the Brooklyn-born dynamo was his disc jockey role in American Graffiti. During this funny, melancholy film about car-cruising teenagers, the Wolfman’s throaty voice was heard playing many monster record hits, turning the soundtrack into a trove of Black R&B and early rock ‘n’ roll.

Just prior to its conclusion, actor Richard Dreyfuss was in a phone booth talking to a girlfriend as the Platters crooned “Only You” in the background. The Wolfman made a smooching sound and intoned: “A little kiss on your ear. Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll see you later. Ohhhh, the Spaniels!”

As the film’s final credits rolled, Gerald Gregory’s famous bass intro to 1954’s “Goodnight Sweetheart, Goodnight” boomed on the soundtrack, followed by James “Pookie” Hudson’s smooth lead voice. And all the upcoming young actors were shown and named.

Throughout this tour de force, in which he played many great sounds, the Wolfman only identified the Spaniels, who are Black. High praise, indeed. So when I interviewed him in 1983, the “why” of this was one of my first questions.

Wolfman Howls

“Because those Black cats were the greatest,” he howled in his recognizable Wolfman fashion. “And they made ‘Goodnight Sweetheart’ an American anthem. I felt I owed them the recognition. The Spaniels were doin’ it up right before most white folks ever heard of R&B or rock ‘n’ roll.”

Following American Graffiti, the Wolfman burst upon the American musical scene like Fourth of July fireworks. He hosted “The Midnight Special” for eight years, “Rock ‘n’ Roll Palace” on Nashville Network, and even got his own syndicated national gig, “The Wolfman Jack Show.”

 He was less visible during the next few years, except for a three-week tour to publicize his book, Have Mercy: The Confession of the Original Party Animal. But countless Black fans never forgot him.

And just what would an R&B-loving Black man from the old school like myself, find so appealing about the white Wolfman Jack? Well, here’s what happened.

When I first arrived in New York from Milwaukee via Cleveland, I was eager to shed my Midwest ways and get into the Manhattan groove. And how better than turn on the radio for the sounds of the city. Which I did.

My favorite voices quickly became old pals Pete Franklin and Art Rust Jr., Hal Jackson, Bobby Jay, Dan Ingram, Jocko Henderson, Don Imus, Dr. Jive and, of course, Wolfman Jack.

It developed that several of my Black co-workers shared my enthusiasm for each—but especially the Wolfman. We’d regularly review some of what they said and the music they played. We enjoyed the zingers and catch-phrases, including Wolfman’s exhortation to “Get yo-self naked” along with his trademark wolf howls.

The Wolfman and I were cut from the same cloth from a musical standpoint. Not satisfied to play only the latest rock ‘n’ roll hits—many by white wannabes and imitators of the original Black sound—he delighted in airing the real deal. And he always told his audience they are Black.

Listeners would often hear the likes of the Cadillacs, Clovers, Dells, Gladiolas, Five Keys, Moonglows, Turbans, Del Vikings, El Dorados, Harptones, Cleftones, Flamingos and, of course, the Spaniels.

When I asked him about that during our memorable interview, he said something that still comes to mind in the ongoing debate over the quality of yesterday’s musicians and today’s: “Got to be true to myself. Black artists are the best, right?” 

Then, issuing forth a raspy laugh, he added: “We’re livin’ in the age of shit, my man. Am I right or am I right?” I replied, “You won’t get an argument from me.”

He was, indeed, right then. And if he were around today, he’d still be right. But sadly, the great Wolfman Jack passed away, at just 57, in 1995. And along with his countless Black fans, I’ll never forget him