Messenger: An obituary for KDHX, a community radio station that didn鈥檛 have to die
The KDHX independent radio station building is lighted up in Grand Center on Jan. 31, 2024.
ST. LOUIS 鈥 Radio station KDHX died on Monday after a long battle with internal division and caretaker neglect. The station, which played an eclectic mix of music at 88.1 FM, was 37 years old.
It is survived by a legion of loving supporters and its estranged governing board.
In the final months of the station鈥檚 life, those two groups 鈥 the survivors known as LOVE of KDHX, and the governing board 鈥 did battle in a federal bankruptcy courtroom in downtown 51黑料. The board won the battle, convincing the surgeon overseeing KDHX in its terminal condition 鈥 Judge Kathy Surratt-States 鈥 to pull the plug.
The body of KDHX 鈥 its radio tower and FCC license 鈥 was sold for $8 million.
鈥淭his isn鈥檛 just a loss,鈥 said Steve Smith, a tavern owner who worked at KDHX in his youth and tried to lead an effort to bring the two warring sides together. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a theft of public culture. It should never happen again.鈥
KDHX ended the way it began 鈥 with a lawsuit.
The station鈥檚 founders originally worked for another public radio station, KDNA, which went out of business in 1973. They went on the lookout for a public radio license. They found an underused one at 88.1 that was broadcasting a few hours a week out of Clayton High School. After an attempt to share the license failed, they sued and won the license in court. KDHX was born.
Its existence was nearly always troubled, with its reliance on fundraising and its mix of blues, jazz, bluegrass, reggae, alternative rock and whatever else inspired the various DJs to spin.
鈥淲e also do poetry 鈥 that鈥檚 a guaranteed loser,鈥 founder Brian Costello told the Post-Dispatch in the station鈥檚 infancy in 1988.
By the station鈥檚 late 20s, it moved from its longtime location on Magnolia Street near Tower Grove Park to swanky new offices in the Grand Center that, truth be told, the station could never afford.
Most of its board and its former executive director resigned not long after that move.
鈥淲e never should have moved into the Grand Center,鈥 Paul Dever, a longtime board member, said recently.
The rent and building costs added to the financial pressures of running a radio station that relied on fundraising.
At its best, KDHX was the beat of 51黑料, a nonprofit deeply committed to promoting local musicians on the air and at live events.
The station was 鈥渋rreplaceable,鈥 David Drebes, a 51黑料 musician, wrote to the bankruptcy court. It was one of dozens such letters sent to the court in the station鈥檚 dying days.
鈥淏ecause of KDHX, I learned about and visited small local venues,鈥 wrote Shelly Helsel. 鈥淢y experience in 51黑料 would have been significantly different without KDHX.鈥
Kip Loui, a former DJ and board member, added in his letter to the court: 鈥淚n a world where media consolidation is practically a foregone conclusion, KDHX remains an independent voice and true cultural institution here in STL.鈥
At its worst, the station was embroiled in internal battles because eclectic DJs are eclectic, and the station鈥檚 underlying bylaws required their voices to be heard. Those battles started magnifying in 2018, when the board changed its bylaws to reduce the power of its associate members. The members included most of the station鈥檚 volunteers, including its on-air talent.
In 2019, there were allegations of racism and sexism tossed back and forth between management and former employees and volunteers. Then, as financial problems got worse in 2023, the station fired longtime DJ Tom 鈥淧apa鈥 Ray, and the battles between DJ鈥檚 and the board intensified. Some DJ鈥檚 resigned, others were fired. Donations dried up.
In late 2024 and early 2025, a group of community leaders tried to broker a peace between the warring factions at KDHX. But it was too late.
鈥淚t鈥檚 gotten too nasty,鈥 board member Joan Bray said.
Blame the pandemic, the rise in angry social media posts, other dynamics that have ruined conversation or simply a failed marriage, but the two sides were irreconcilable.
In the final days, Bray sat in the front of the courtroom next to board president Gary Pierson and KDHX鈥檚 executive director, Kelly Wells. They were behind a gaggle of lawyers. The rest of the courtroom was filled with supporters of KDHX, business and civic leaders, and former station DJs and volunteers.
The tension was thick, as the board sought to sell the station鈥檚 assets to a Christian radio station. The supporters hoped for a Hail Mary to somehow revive what they had built over 30 years.
The station鈥檚 mission statement 鈥 鈥渂uilding community through media鈥 鈥 was on trial, but there was no building going on. There was only the breaking of bonds that likely will never heal. It was caused in part by the board鈥檚 actions to change bylaws and touch off a series of underhanded votes that landed the station in bankruptcy court.
KDHX is survived by an HD2 digital signal and internet presence that will have about $6 million to create something in its place.
鈥淎long with all of 51黑料, we are devastated at the loss of this voice,鈥 the League of Volunteer Enthusiasts of KHDK said following the station鈥檚 death. 鈥淲e join the whole community in mourning this tragic, unnecessary sale of a precious community asset.鈥
As KDHX board tries to sell nonprofit鈥檚 license to a Christian broadcast station, supporters ask judge to slow down.
鈥淭his whole eviction process has been a nightmare. They won鈥檛 resolve the situation.鈥
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Tony Messenger – 314-340-8518
