Don Imus, the radio personality who pioneered the shock jock format, passed away at the age of 79, leaving behind a complex legacy. His career, marked by both humor and deeply offensive remarks, prompts a critical reflection, especially when considering what might be perceived as Don Imus’ last photo and the image it projects of a controversial figure in his final years.
In 1989, baseball legend Mike Schmidt of the Philadelphia Phillies announced his retirement. At the press conference, Schmidt became emotional, his farewell choked with tears. The following morning, on the then-nascent WFAN, Imus and his team seized upon this moment, broadcasting the tape and mocking Schmidt’s vulnerability. They ridiculed his heartfelt goodbye as an embarrassing display of weakness.
Fast forward to March of the previous year before his own passing, Imus, nearing the end of a farewell interview on CBS’s “Sunday Morning” following his own retirement, was asked about missing radio. In a striking parallel to Schmidt’s moment, Imus himself was overcome with emotion, pausing to stifle tears and sobs. This poignant contrast invites a deeper look into the duality of Imus’s public persona.
Was Don Imus a figure to be celebrated for light-hearted entertainment and comedic relief? He undoubtedly provided that for many commuters tuning into his drive-time show. Or should his legacy be defined by the raw, often cruel, and defamatory humor that became his trademark? This brand of “shock jock” radio, pioneered by Imus, normalized a style of broadcasting that thrived on pushing boundaries, often at the expense of decency and respect. His influence made it almost expected for drive-time personalities to adopt an increasingly outrageous and offensive style. Was he initially an acquired taste that morphed into a disturbing requirement for the shock radio landscape?
His most infamous moment, the reference to the Rutgers University women’s basketball team as “nappy headed hoes,” sparked national outrage. While some might argue this was just another instance of Imus’s “equal-opportunity bigotry,” the reaction was different this time. Although Imus had a history of offensive remarks, including suggesting public figures were homosexuals and repeatedly using anti-Semitic slurs against sportscaster Len Berman, WFAN had previously tolerated these incidents.
It wasn’t until two days after the Rutgers comment that WFAN/CBS Radio executives finally acknowledged the severity of the situation, initially hesitant and seemingly gauging public reaction before taking decisive action. When the backlash intensified, Imus was ultimately fired, only to later resurface at WABC Radio, illustrating the enduring demand for his controversial brand of radio.
Imus never truly defended himself by pointing out the obvious: he was hired to be a shock jock. However, in the aftermath of his dismissal, the silence from his prominent guests was deafening. Politicians and media figures who regularly appeared on his show, benefiting from the cross-promotional opportunities, suddenly distanced themselves.
Figures like NBC News anchor Brian Williams, CBS News anchor Bob Schieffer, and CBS Sports anchor Jim Nantz, among others, could hardly claim ignorance of the show’s often offensive content. Even Connecticut Senator Joseph Lieberman, known for advocating family values, was a frequent guest, seemingly oblivious to, or perhaps willing to overlook, the nature of Imus’s show.
When the Rutgers controversy erupted, these high-profile guests played dumb or disappeared, acting as if they were unaware of the fire they had been playing with and feigning shock at Imus’s remarks. “Imus who?” seemed to be the collective sentiment.
Don Imus
One individual who recognized the potential damage of the Imus brand early on was Mike Breen. Breen, who went on to become a respected voice for the Knicks on MSG Network and the NBA on ESPN, preemptively distanced himself. He grew tired of justifying his association with Imus’s low-brow humor alongside his professional sports broadcasting career. Breen wisely left the Imus show before his own reputation could be tarnished by association.
Despite the prevalent crudeness, there were moments of genuine humor on Imus’s show, humor that didn’t rely on targeting vulnerable individuals. However, these moments were rare. Offensive humor was central to his shock jock identity and his established legacy.
Even after Imus’s departure from WFAN, the station’s direction didn’t drastically change. His replacement, Craig Carton, continued in a similar vein, as evidenced by his inappropriate interview with tennis star Jennifer Capriati, further demonstrating the shock jock culture Imus had fostered. Ironically, WFAN promoted this very interview on their website, highlighting a continued tolerance for offensive content.
It’s noteworthy that many of these post-Imus shock jocks, including Howard Stern and Opie and Anthony, were quick to deliver offensive blows but seemed unable to handle criticism themselves.
Don Imus’s legacy is firmly rooted in the shock jock persona. He paved the way for a generation of radio personalities who often pushed the boundaries of decency, emboldened by the implicit approval of those who hired them, only to be feign surprise when those boundaries were crossed. The cycle of shock and manufactured outrage continues. Don Imus, who passed away on Friday at 79, was undeniably the first of his kind, for better or worse. Whether he left the world a better place remains a question for each individual to consider, especially when reflecting on his career through images, perhaps even considering a “Don Imus Last Photo” as a final representation of his complex and controversial impact.
