When the grid collapses, your $1,000 iPhone is just a paperweight: Long live local radio

My 98-year-old movie pal, Jack, and I have long spent Saturday afternoons enjoying classic films. A recent Saturday was no different. Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn starred in the first movie, followed by the laugh-out-loud comedy, Some Like It Hot. As the afternoon progressed, I heard a loud crack of thunder. I pulled back the curtain and saw the darkness — the rain pouring down, and the wind was howling. Here in the mid-South, it’s amazing how quickly the weather can change. Glancing at my security camera app, I discovered my home was without power. As wind and rain battered the neighborhood, I realized that Ava, my loyal mixed-breed canine companion, was home alone in the dark. I needed to head home immediately. I wished Jack well, grabbed my sack of uneaten popcorn, and headed home. That was no easy task. The winds were topping 70 miles per hour, branches were flying off trees and striking cars and roads. Several minutes into the trek home, a large tree had been uprooted and fallen onto the road, blocking traffic. Cars had pulled to the roadside, their flashers warning other drivers. I still had about 10 minutes until I got home. I gripped the wheel and pressed toward home. Once there, I ran inside, only to find Ava quite relaxed in her bed, probably wondering why I made such a commotion upon arrival. Recommended Stories There is a dreadful feeling about entering your home with no electricity, a raging thunderstorm, and extreme humidity and heat over 90 degrees day after day. Out of habit, I turned on light switches and even grabbed the TV remote to watch our local meteorologists. Oh yes, I forgot, I have no power. I also realized my smartphone isn’t so smart after all. It doesn’t self-charge. It was dark, getting warmer in the house, and the 70-mile-per-hour winds were attacking all that stood in Mother Nature’s path. What is one to do when the electricity, computers, and cable TV are gone, a landline canceled years ago, and a battery drained cellphone is the only remaining connection to the outside world? But then I remembered, this really isn’t the case. My 1970s RadioShack portable radio still sits on my kitchen sill. I use it often and always have backup batteries available. I switched it on and heard weather alerts and local updates. While my television and internet were useless, that little radio continued doing its job. At the peak, as many as 140,000 Memphis Light, Gas and Water customers were without electricity. For many residents, local radio remained the most dependable source of information while the storms battered us.FIFTY MILLION AMERICANS LIVE IN A NEWS BLACKOUT. YOUR TOWN COULD BE NEXTI recently wrote about the “news deserts” — communities that have lost reliable local journalism. The consequences extend beyond the loss of city council coverage. During emergencies, news deserts can become information blackouts and a genuine threat to public safety. The problem extends well beyond severe weather. Tornadoes, hurricanes, wildfires, cyberattacks, and disruptions to the electrical grid can disable digital communications when people need information most. When radio stations do their jobs well, communities are less likely to be left without vital information. Broadcasters must remember that the privilege of using the public airwaves carries a responsibility to serve the public interest. Maintaining backup power, personnel, and emergency capabilities may not produce immediate ratings or revenue, but when disaster strikes, those investments can protect lives. When everything else went dark in Memphis, an old battery-powered radio reminded me of something our increasingly digital world sometimes forgets: terrestrial radio is not obsolete. In an emergency, it is essential infrastructure. William Pollack has spent more than four decades owning and operating local radio stations, television stations, and movie theaters.