by Ted Turner
As a result, we were able to get good pricing, and we bought just about every movie we could get our hands on, striking long-term deals whenever possible. I did business with nearly all the major studios, including Paramount, Warner Brothers, and MCA. (There was one studio that refused to sell to me. MGM decided they would forgo revenue from Atlanta rather than sell to me at the bargain-basement prices I was paying everyone else. It would take me many more years to gain access to the MGM library but I would get there eventually.) Working on these deals I became acquainted with the executives at the movie companies, from salesmen in the field all the way to the top executives like Barry Diller and Lew Wasserman. I’d always loved movies and now I was having fun with these guys while I learned the business and grew our library.
In addition to counterprogramming with movies and old series I figured out another chink in the armor of our competitors. The Big Three networks made their money by selling national ads that ran across their affiliated stations. They wanted this programming to air on as many affiliates as possible to deliver nationwide coverage and a large audience. Because of conflicting programming commitments, especially with locally produced shows like pro sports, affiliated stations would sometimes preempt national programming, costing the network coverage in that market. Once I learned this, I got an idea. I decided to call the network people in New York and offer to air their shows on Channel 17 whenever they were preempted by their Atlanta affiliate. It took me a while to track down the right people but when I did they said yes. They preferred to have their affiliate clear their shows, but we were better than nothing. When we reached the point of having four preempted NBC shows running in our daytime lineup I had our people put up some billboards saying “THE NBC NETWORK MOVES TO CHANNEL 17” in really big letters (smaller letters mentioned what these four shows were). The owners of the NBC station—Cox Broadcasting—threatened a lawsuit and our attorney, Tench Coxe, advised me to have them taken down. Meanwhile, the controversy was mentioned in Cox’s own Atlanta Journal-Constitution newspaper and we got some free publicity out of it.
The Atlanta ABC station carried the Hawks basketball games, so during the NBA season they had a bunch of preemptions in prime time. This gave me the same opportunity I had with NBC, and ABC’s executives were more than happy to have us clear Atlanta for them. We even got to air the 1971 premiere of Brian’s Song. Starring James Caan and Billy Dee Williams, it was one of the biggest made-for-TV movies of its time. We got a 17.0 rating—our biggest audience ever. That same night the Hawks game on the ABC affiliate did something like a 4.0 or a 5.0.
The next time period I focused on was the morning. The ABC station’s big hit was a local kids program called Tubby and Lester. It cost them a lot to produce but the other stations ran news in that time slot so the show got big ratings with kids. We decided to put on licensed cartoons and pull some of the kid audience away. The plan worked—we split the non-news audience and they eventually canceled their children’s programming. We did so well shaking things up and growing our ratings that I started telling people that WTCG now stood for “Watch This Channel Grow!”
I knew we needed sports to really jump to the next level. I’d already taken professional wrestling from the ABC station (and we produced the events in our own little studio—it was cramped in there but somehow we made it work), and while these shows did well, getting big league rights would really put us on the map. The Atlanta Braves were relatively new in town, having moved from Milwaukee in 1966, but they were already popular. If we could somehow get the Braves on WTCG it would be a huge coup. Not only would our ratings go up, but also we figured that many Atlantans who didn’t have UHF antennas (about 50 percent of the market) would buy one just so they could see the Braves games. With more of these antennas in place, the potential audience for all of our shows would grow automatically.
It was widely known that the Braves had lost money since moving to Atlanta—some said as much as $1 million a year—and as a result I was confident that an offer of more money for their TV rights would at least get their attention. WSB was paying the Braves $200,000 per year for the right to show twenty away games. Back then many teams hesitated to put too many games on TV—particularly home games—fearing that this exposure would hurt ticket sales. WTCG was turning the corner to profitability and I was willing to pay for an asset as valuable as rights to a major sport. I called Bill Bartholomay, who led the group that purchased the Milwaukee Braves and moved them to Atlanta. He lived in Chicago and was also a sailor so we knew some of the same people and had a lot in common. From our mutual friends I also learned that he was a trustworthy, stand-up guy.
I met with Bill and said we would offer the Braves $600,000 per year—three times WSB’s fee—but in return we wanted sixty games instead of twenty. While WSB would have the wherewithal to increase their payments to the Braves, I figured they would not be willing to commit to airing that many more games—especially since they knew Channel 17 would be happy to air the NBC programming they’d have to preempt.
My hunch was right. The Braves needed the money and after some negotiating Bill agreed to take my offer. Given the team’s broad relationship with WSB’s parent, Cox Communications (they owned the Braves’ flagship radio station in addition to the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, the paper the Braves counted on for extensive and hopefully positive coverage of the team), Bill felt the right thing to do was to give them a courtesy call before they heard about this deal secondhand. I was worried but I had no choice but to agree.
The Cox people were furious. They told him I was a nut and that WTCG was a “Mickey Mouse UHF station.” Since all Bartholomay had with me was a handshake, they said he should walk away from our deal and that if he did, they would match my terms. They even went so far as to suggest to Bill that if his deal with WTCG went through, the team should expect to see their newspaper coverage buried in the Journal-Constitution’s classifieds, not on the cover of the sports section. That subtle threat was a bad idea because then, as now, the government had a lot of concerns about media concentration in local markets and how that power might get abused. If Cox stole our deal with the Braves, this comment would give me leverage in a complaint to the government.
After his unpleasant meeting with the Cox people, Bill met with me again and asked if I’d reconsider releasing him from our deal. I said, “Bill, I’ve been told that a handshake from you is as good as a signed contract and that’s why I agreed to let you talk to Cox before our announcement.” He just slumped over his desk and said, “You’re right, but it would really be best if we just forgot about our deal. WSB is willing to give me the same deal you are.”
I said, “Look, a deal’s a deal,” and that was that.
As hard as it was for him, Bill was a man of his word. He stuck by his guns and we got the Braves.
With this big new jewel in our crown, we set our sights on other teams’ TV rights. Tired of us stealing their network shows during their prime-time basketball telecasts, the ABC affiliate passed on renewing their Hawks deal and we picked it up. We also carried Atlanta Flames hockey (before that NHL franchise moved to Canada) as well as professional soccer from the now defunct NASL. Those other sports couldn’t touch the Braves in terms of ratings or interest but every little piece added to our popularity and helped us get noticed.
WTCG was on the map and our financial performance started to improve dramatically. We cut our losses from $900,000 in 1970 to about $600,000 in 1971. We doubled our revenues and broke even in 1972, and for the full year of 1973, Channel 17 generated more than $1 million in profits. We were on a roll.
Putting so much of my energy into work and sailing didn’t leave as much time for a family life and things were chaotic on the home front. Janie did her best to manage a household with five young kids but it was a struggle. She never embraced the idea of caring for Teddy and Laura and their unequal treatment continued. As the stepchildren, they would often spend mealtimes down in the basement with Jimmy Brown, eating d
ifferent food than their half siblings enjoyed upstairs. Thank goodness for Jimmy. He worked very hard and took great care of the children. He drove them to school, cooked many of their meals, and did lots of fun outdoor activities with the kids like catching butterflies and sledding in the winter. He was also great about teaching them manners and respect.
But Jimmy had his challenges, too, and in addition to battling with his weight he also struggled with alcoholism. There were times when Jimmy and Janie would argue, and these arguments would sometimes trigger Jimmy to go on a drinking binge. For weeks at a time, he would remain completely sober, but then he would go on a bender and behave like a completely different person. He’d become paranoid and stay in the basement for days at a time before he’d eventually come out of it.
A TED STORY
“Those Weren’t the Best of Circumstances”
—Rhett Turner
When Jimmy was up and running he’d take us to school, and everywhere we needed to go. We walked to the store to return bottles and to buy marbles. He always had deep pockets full of change that we would use to buy candy. He was the best guy in the world for that. The few times when it snowed in Atlanta he’d take us to the golf course to go sledding all day. He could go three months being a great person doing everything he needed to do but then for a week and a half or two weeks he’d stay down in the basement, drunk, until he ran out of alcohol and food. You wouldn’t want to walk into the room because it smelled terrible. And with my dad not around, my mom would have two weeks of crises waiting for Jimmy to wake up and Dad’s not there. Somehow we all got done what we needed to get done but those weren’t the best of circumstances.
This wasn’t the healthiest environment for our children and I tried to step in when needed most, but in truth my presence at home was not consistent. The obvious question is why and it’s not an easy one for me to answer. I’m a product of my environment and I grew up with an intense desire to achieve and to be successful. My father was a driven man who instilled in me an intense work ethic and the schools I attended also stressed discipline and achievement. From an early age I always had a lot of energy and when I became an adult, my drive and that energy were channeled toward trying to be the best in sailing and business.
Growing up, my own family life was far from the traditional ideal. My father wasn’t around much for the few years I was home as a child, so while he was a strong role model and taught me a lot about business, he didn’t set an example in terms of being home for dinner every night. Life at home wasn’t always the happiest for me, either. My dad was unpredictable and tough and when my sister got sick, being around the house could be difficult. This, combined with the fact that I spent so many of my formative years at boarding schools, created in me an orientation that was not centered on a family life at home. But regardless of the reasons, I simply wasn’t around as much as I probably should have been. When I was able to be there, I tried to be a good disciplinarian, with a big emphasis on manners and respect. I always thought my father’s treatment of me was harsher than it needed to be, so while I did spank my children on the rare occasions when they were particularly out of line, I was never as harsh on them as Dad was with me.
A TED STORY
“A Drill Sergeant”
—Jennie Turner Garlington
Whenever my dad was home there was tons of excitement around the house. He always made everything fun. It would be pitch black dark outside and every morning before school Dad would rattle off all our names like a drill sergeant. He’d yell, “Beau!” and he’d answer, “Yes sir!” “Rhett!” “Yes sir! “Teddy!” and so on. We knew we’d better get our butts out of bed fast and once we did, Dad would start singing “Hi-ho, Hi-ho, it’s off to school we go.” We’d eat breakfast and then everyone crammed in the tiniest Toyota you’ve ever laid eyes on. Then he would get out of the car in the middle of our neighborhood, he would flag down our neighbors in their Cadillac and make them roll down their car window and say “Hey, why don’t we all carpool to school?”
When Dad wasn’t around, Jimmy was our Rock of Gibraltar; a pillar of strength in the kindest and gentlest of ways. Even with five wild banshee children running amuck he never once raised his voice or his hand to us. He always kept us busy selling lemonade at the corner of the street, doing homework projects in the very unfinished basement. That basement was our haven, with Jimmy sitting in his chair, answering every single one of our millions of questions.
By the time Laura was approaching the sixth grade we reached the decision that it would be best for her to go to Cincinnati to live with my mother. There she would be surrounded by relatives on my mother’s side of my family. This wound up being a good solution for everyone. Laura needed a break from what was an increasingly turbulent household and her moving away took some of the pressure off Janie. It also turned out to be a great thing for my mother. After all that she had gone through with my little sister, having a healthy granddaughter around was a blessing. She told Laura that God must have sent her there as a replacement for my sister and she even mistakenly referred to her as “Mary Jean” on occasion. It was a happy time for the two of them and they developed a very special relationship.
A few years later, Teddy also left home to attend McCallie. My alma mater was no longer a military school but it still accepted boarders and maintained much of their philosophies about discipline and citizenship. As in the case of Laura’s departure, getting away was a good thing for Teddy and home life in Atlanta settled down for Janie and the other three children.
10
The Braves
The Braves were a huge shot in the arm for us. Ratings for the games were strong and our ad sales team had solid success selling them. We also estimated that moving these telecasts over to our station prompted about 100,000 people in Atlanta to buy UHF receivers, so not only were our ratings high for the Braves games, but viewership increased across our entire schedule since more people could see the station. Being associated with the team was also a lot of fun. I hadn’t been a baseball fan but now that we were carrying games I went to the ballpark often and watched a lot of the other games on TV.
As helpful as the Braves were, we’d have been much better off if the team had won more games. Advertisers like being associated with a major league franchise, but they prefer that team to be a winner. The Braves of the early 1970s were pretty bad, but after posting consecutive losing records our first two seasons carrying games—1972 and 1973—they started turning things around in 1974. In April, Hank Aaron broke Babe Ruth’s all-time home run record and the team went on to win eighty-eight games for the season. Atlanta was really excited about baseball—nearly a million fans went to the ballpark and our ratings improved. But the team did a total 180 degree reversal in 1975. They traded Hank Aaron to Milwaukee the very season he broke Babe Ruth’s record, lost ninety-four games, and saw their attendance drop almost in half (530,000 fans for eighty one games—fewer than seven thousand people a game). I went to Fulton County Stadium for one of the last games of that difficult season and there were barely six hundred people in the stands. The Braves were losing and it was obvious that the fans weren’t the only ones who had packed it in; the players had, too. The whole experience was depressing. I got restless. I walked up to the club level to see Dan Donahue, the team’s president, and I said, “Dan, I consider us to be partners, and we need to add some more excitement next year. What are we going to do to get the team on track?”
Donahue looked at me and said, “Well I don’t know what you’re going to do next year but I know what we’re going to do. We’re selling the team.”
“What!” I was shocked. The Braves meant a lot to my business and there were constant rumors that someday they might move out of Atlanta.
“Who’re you going to sell it to?” I asked.
“To you,” Donahue answered.
“Me?” I was stunned.
My dad taught me early on that long-term relationships with your customers and partners are i
mportant because you never know; the guy who you’re friendly with today might be able to help you out tomorrow. He was right. For the past few years I’d demonstrated to Braves management that the team was important to me and now they were offering me a first-look chance to buy the franchise.
I caught my breath and I said, “Okay, but if I’m going to consider this, I need to know a little more about your business. How much money will you lose this year?”
“About a million dollars,” he replied.
“Okay, how much do you want for the team?”
“Ten million.”
Ten million dollars! For a business that was losing a million dollars a year? We’d paid $2.5 million for Channel 17 and $1 million for Charlotte. Our company’s biggest acquisition ever—my father’s purchase of General Outdoor—was $4 million. And that company was profitable and in our own industry. My first reaction was that this was completely out of the question, but before I said no I asked him for a couple of days to think about it.
After the initial shock wore off I spent the next couple of days taking long walks in the woods. I’ve often used long walks to clear my head and in this case it cleared quickly. The Braves were a key asset and I had to go for it. Major League Baseball was high-quality programming for Channel 17 and by owning the team I would control its long-term TV rights. Plus, buying this franchise would really put our company on the map. There was just this one little problem—I couldn’t afford it. Our other businesses were performing pretty well but we still had a lot of debt and even if I could scrape together $10 million it would be hard to justify paying that for a business that was losing a million a year.