Marilyn Altenbach (1947-2014): The Home of Happy Feet’s “Secret” Edge
“Give Me the Roses While I Live” Marilyn Altenbach – Lead, Judy Brown – Alto, Zoe Economou -Soprano
Working diligently behind the scenes, Marilyn Altenbach became what could be considered the “secret” edge of the Home of Happy Feet (HHF), the “third foot” that kept the show happily hopping along. For a long time the internationally-oriented folk music program filled the 9 pm to 1 am Tuesday slot before eventually moving up to its current time from 7 to 10 pm.
“Though certified as a board operator and show host, Marilyn eventually spent more time assisting with playlist entry, programming and other aspects of Home of Happy Feet,” said Rachel Kaub, former KUNM operations director. “A biologist for years, Marilyn was inquisitive, progressive and welcoming of friends into her home.”
“She didn’t talk much on the air but she talked during the fundraisers, though, and her voice wasn’t pleading but just why people should contribute,” weighed in Barry Lauesen, Marilyn’s husband and HHF fellow co-host, in an interview conducted before his own death in 2018.
Besides the fundraisers, Marilyn’s voice penetrated the airwaves on occasional all-night freeform shows and KUNM International Women’s Day specials, according to Lauesen and Karl Stalnaker, the third member of the HHF crew.
Born Marilyn Belding in Scotts Bluff, Nebraska, KUNM’s future master musical chef later moved to Colorado, where she received her bachelor’s degree in zoology from Colorado State University in Fort Collins.
As fate had it, Marilyn found her way to the Duke City in 1972 with her husband at the time, retired UNM biology professor Scott Altenbach, and their son, Chris.
A staunch environmentalist, Marilyn paid her dues at UNM’s biology department. “She preferred to call it ‘mouse janitor,’” Lauesen recalled. “(She) cleaned the cages and fed the snakes and other animals they had.”
As time progressed, Marilyn conducted important field work on the endangered Jemez Mountains Salamander. “They’re lung less and don’t have gills. They subsist underground and come out occasionally to forage for insects,” said Laeusen, who learned about the elusive creatures from his wife’s work.
Marilyn’s other projects included Jemez Mountains spotted owls, Sacramento Mountains salamanders and internationally, the invasive brown tree snake that hitchhikes on airplanes and then proceeds to devour land birds wherever it gets off, according to Lauesen. Once, Marilyn traveled to Guam on a UNM research project and brought back a “very large” specimen of the snake for her lab, Lauesen said.
Marilyn’s widower ventured that his wife’s attraction to wildlife could have dated back to her Nebraska childhood when the feed store her dad ran put her in contact with animals.
Though possessing an Olympian-like talent for swimming at a young age, Marilyn grappled with physical problems over the years that included a broken neck suffered at age four when she fell out of a tree. Later on in life she underwent knee surgeries, including a botched job by one of football star Joe Namath’s presumed surgeons, according to Lauesen.
“Her knee swelled up the size of a cantaloupe and she was just in agony, so we took her to a knee surgeon which was much better and got her walking again,” he recalled.
Despite physical adversities, Marilyn went the literal extra mile for New Mexico’s spotted owls and other wildlife, plunging into the mountains on a mission. “She and her team would go out at night and spend several hours trying to find a nest,” Lauesen remarked. “She had a strong will- things she was passionate about.”
KUNM was at the top of Marilyn’s passions. In the mid 1970s she joined her future husband Barry and his friend Karl, who had launched the HHF in 1974 when the station was broadcasting from the UNM Student Union Building; she would stick with them the rest of her life.
Friend Claude Stephenson, currently co-host of KUNM’s Saturday morning Folk Routes show, placed Marilyn at the center of Happy Feet’s sound.
“She was always the ramrod. She had her preferences and stuff she wouldn’t play,” he said.
“She loved ‘real freeform’,” added Zoe Economou, longtime KUNM listener, former KUNM Radio Board member and another great friend of Marilyn’s.
“Karl and I did most of the music but she was the one who kept it together and did the playlists,” Lauesen said.
Stalnaker offered his assessment of a close friend and collaborator:
“She never tried to interfere with things artistically, unless she thought we were really too far out there artistically or didn’t like something. She didn’t mince words… she was total support. She had a big value to KUNM because she believed in public radio. She set an example for so many people.”
Also first acquainted with KUNM during its SUB Basement Days, when he helped a DJ file records, Stephenson attributed Marilyn Altenbach’s encyclopedic knowledge of music in part to her fortuitous exposure as a Rocky Mountain university student to the vibrant musical scene “spawning” some of the “hot” Colorado bands of the era, names like The Monroe Doctrine and the Ophelia Swing Band.
“She had a real big taste that would surprise you. You know she liked the show Raw Guts (a predecessor to today’s Music to Soothe the Savage Beast) and punk rock,” Stalnaker chimed in. “She and I went to see the Ramones together. It was in the basement of the SUB, and it was probably the loudest thing we ever heard…”
Marilyn not only shared others’ songs with her listeners but performed many herself. Together with Zoe Economou, Judy Brown, Jean Duke and Lauesen, she sang and played accordion and concertina with a group called the Fabulous Stucco Sisters. In addition to the regular Wednesday night rehearsals at the couple’s home, the band occasionally performed in public, such as at a popular Central Avenue watering hole/ live music venue which ultimately made headlines as an arson story.
“We played at Ned’s before they burned it down and Claude played with his band.” Lauesen said. Another memorable show was a St. Patrick’s Day celebration at El Rey. “It was pretty good. We got a pretty good crowd. We played Irish music,” he added.
As HHF pranced high into the airwaves, Stephenson recalled the regular Tuesday night get-togethers at his and Economou’s UNM student ghetto apartment, where Marilyn and her two KUNM co-producers would go to unwind after the show.
“It just became a way of life,” Stephenson said, fueled by “copious amounts of beer and wine, chips and salsa, talk about music and always KUNM politics.” Accordingly, “We called ourselves ‘The Home of Happy Feet Neighborhood Association,’” he chuckled.
The nocturnal Tuesday summits later moved to Stephenson’s and Economou’s new South Valley home, only winding down years later when all concerned decided “we were too old to have late night meetings,” Stephenson said. “(Marilyn) was a very good friend of mine. I adored Marilyn. I really miss her.”
“Marilyn was fiercely protective of the Home of Happy Feet slot. In my days as Production Director, we always dreaded having to let her and the crew know that election coverage or a debate or some such NPR special report would have to take over the Tuesday night slot. She thought, perhaps rightly so, that listening to great music was always a better use of time than listening to politicians,” recalled Paul Ingles, former KUNM staffer and Peace Talks Radio producer.
“Marilyn knew the music so well. Though not often heard on the air, I suspected she was often the one who had more to do with what was playing on Happy Feet than we may have realized. I admired her commitment to the audience and the show’s mission.”
Part of the HHF’s mission was connecting the listening audience with grassroots events and local gigs announced on a weekly calendar Marilyn compiled, Stalnaker said.
The Home of Happy Feet-and KUNM- had one big break in its long history, the so-called KUNM Radio Wars, when listeners and programmers passionately protested a 1987 management-ordered program format change. The crisis escalated into lawsuits, the deployment of the riot squad, an 18-month volunteer strike, and even a two-week shutdown of KUNM by the university administration.
“(Karl), Barry and Marilyn invited live local musicians in to the studio for their last broadcast, before announcing that they were totally opposed to the new station policies and could not support the new management,” listener Bonny Celine wrote in the Santa Fe Reporter in early 1988.
“One of the performers cried on the air, thinking of the 14 years of music contributions that the three announcers had contributed to New Mexico. The next week, music director Peggy Hessing was playing songs in the Happy Feet slot. She explained that she was assigned to cover all of the “specialty slots” or lose her job. She too cried during that broadcast…
Sustained community pressure eventually yielded the partial restoration of the daytime freeform format, the departure of managers and the return of striking volunteers including the HHF threesome.
Stalnaker doesn’t view his collective’s 1980s’ on-air hiatus as lost time.
“It might have not been broadcast but there was a lot of resistance going on,” the artist/musician said.
Forty five years after its inception the HHF excelled as one of the longest-running shows on KUNM, with Karl and Harry Norton at the helm and Derek and others occasionally filling in when the veterans need a break. As always the program delighted and surprised its listeners with an indelibly delicious menu of music.
A survey of playlists gives the intrigued listener an enticing taste: Chiemi Eri and the Toyko Cuban Boys, Django Reinhardt, New Orleans Klezmer All Stars, the Carter Family, Count Baise, the Unknown Albanian Singers, Bessie Smith, Pedro Infante, Merle Haggard, Manezinho Araujo, Joe Keawe With the Lei Moki Sweethearts…
In the landlocked Land of Enchantment, the HHF is one the few places listeners can hear genuine Hawaiian music, a genre onetime surfer boy Lauesen said tweaked his ears after his mom returned to their California home from a Hawaii trip with records of the islands’ native music.
“I’m in touch with a woman who grew up in Hawaii,” Stalnaker added. “She said it would bring tears to her eyes to hear all the songs, so she would call each week and request all the old Hawaiian music.”
The Home of Happy Feet’s epic run has showcased far more than thousands upon thousands of hours of pre-recorded sounds. Of great importance too has been the show’s platform for local and visiting musicians and bands.
On countless Tuesday nights the third floor of Onate Hall (KUNM’s home since 1976) was transformed into a carnival-like scene bursting with huffing and puffing musicians and “roadies” hauling drum sets and instruments of all invention onto the elevator or up the stairs and into the control room or studios, where music of all imagination was broadcast live into KUNM listener land.
Happy Feet’s live music traditions date back in the SUB basement days when musicians like Bonnie Bluhm and brother Terry Bluhm strummed it up over the air, according to Lauesen.
In the Onate Hall era, he remembered the time when a large group of mbira (African thumb piano) players crowded the control room. “It was just an amazing sound,” Lauesen said. “They were African refugees, I think, because we couldn’t tell their names on the air.”
In today’s radio world, Happy Feet is different than the early show because of recording industry trends, mandatory playlist reporting, the DJs’ own tastes, and fewer live broadcasts, Lauesen and Stalnaker said.
“If you compare the show we do now to the show in the early days it’s very different,” Lauesen mulled. “I mean, I don’t think we played jazz like we do, not necessarily old jazz, but more international stuff as well.”
Stalnaker said the show’s tight parameters leave less time for live performances than in previous years. “We have to get our sets in advance, and for me I work harder on it,” he said.
Whether emanating from scratchy vinyl albums generations old or slick, 21st century digitally mixed productions, the soundscape of Home of Happy Feet is the work of audio artists who transport listeners into the past, bedazzle them in the present and educate their ears for the future.
Lauesen once admitted, though, a preference for the old analog sound. “There’s something about the (digital) reproduction, like taking out too many high ends,” he opined. In a salute to quality, Home of Happy Feet’s co-creator fondly remembered the time when Scott Altenbach’s son hauled an old, one-speed Victrola record player built to play 78s up to KUNM,
“Once they get digitized they don’t sound as good as original source material…I’d rather play records from the 1920s and 1930s,” Stalnaker added. As if to underscore his point, the veteran deejay recalled recently playing a 1908 recording of the Welsh Men’s Chorus on KUNM.
“It’s like you were playing an old record on a wind-up from a ranch in old New Mexico. It got some soul to it,” he said.
Audience reach is another big change the folks at the HHF have witnessed over the years, thanks to transformations in broadcast technology leaping from terrestrial radio to live stream Internet. In addition to a public strung across the continental U.S., Happy Feet has been heard by listeners in Denmark and Hawaii, among other places. “Russia was another one that was pretty amazing,” Stalnaker recalled, qualifying, however, that he could not communicate with the new fans. “I don’t speak Russian too good,” he joked.
What kept Barry and Karl going after the great loss of Marilyn?
“Just the music…finding old stuff and new music,” Lauesen pondered. “It keeps it evolving.” Stalnaker concurred: “It’s incredibly satisfying to me to play this music. That’s one of the things I’m really grateful about KUNM. They don’t step on our toes,” he said.
Other reasons, too, kept the HHF hot on its toes after nearly half a century. “The main reason it’s lasted so long is friendship, pure and simple, because there’s no way things would maintain if we weren’t considerate of each other and just very good friends,” Stalnaker added. Regardless of the occasional rude or nasty caller to the show, the HHF’s audience inspired the musical masters.
“I can go out in public and all of a sudden there’s someone talking volumes about the show,” he said.
Then there is the spirit of Marilyn. “I think she totally added to the longevity of the program,” Stalnaker continued, explaining that whenever he or Barry were contemplating ending their Tuesday night audio forays Marilyn would not tolerate such nonsense. “If Barry or I was ever inclined to quit, she would have kicked our butts,” he laughed. “I think she has had that effect on us, because I wouldn’t want to incur her wrath right now.”
For many years Marilyn boosted KUNM’s spirit and sound, bringing holiday cheer and nourishment to KUNM’s volunteers.
“She’d have all these cookie baking parties at her house and she’d bring all these cookies to the station..,” Stalnaker said. “She’d always leave cookies for the next deejays on the shift, you know, Savage Beast and Overnight Freeform. She just had a real big heart that way.” On Thanksgiving, Marilyn prepared large dinners for as many as 25 people, even taking in stranded KUNMers and insisting they don’t bother cooking anything.
“At times I would think she was like the den mother of Home of Happy Feet,” Stalnaker said.
In 2013, the year before an ailing Marilyn passed away, the Albuquerque home of Marilyn and Barry hosted a gala 40th anniversary celebration of the Home of Happy Feet. Local musical legends including the Sons of Rodan, Bonnie Bluhm, Mannie Rettinger’s old Animal Opera and “all the people who played on Happy Feet for the last 40 years and could make it” performed for the bash, according to Stephenson.
Stalnaker and Lauesen firmly credited Marilyn for the well-attended anniversary celebration. “She knew that she was gonna be dying soon but she kept on plugging on and pulling this thing together,” Stalnaker said. “She was on her feet for 12 hours getting all the food organized. It was like ‘Profiles in Courage.’”
One June evening in 2014, Marilyn showed up as usual for another Tuesday evening broadcast but barely made it into the control room. She was taken from KUNM to the hospital and died the next day.
“It was her final unassisted effort on this earth,” Stalnaker reflected in a bittersweet voice. “And seeing that the set lists were written right!”
For Stalnaker, Marilyn’s final hours summed up the dedication of an extraordinary woman to a fledgling college basement radio station that eventually became a New Mexico cultural institution, Marilyn and her companions playing no small part in helping achieve that status.
“Nobody could love public radio more than Marilyn did,” Stalnaker said. “It’s something she felt so strongly that she was ready to support it any way she could.”
Marilyn Altenbach’s spirit lives on every Tuesday evening at 7 p.m. on 89.9 FM Albuquerque, which in the 21st century broadcasts throughout north-central New Mexico from Sandia Crest and streams on the Internet even in many of the countries from which the fine folks at Home of Happy Feet source their musical magic.
“She’s sorely missed. She sometimes visits me in my dreams,” Lauesen mulled one day not long before he too took that passage to the big FM channel in the sky. “She was loved by a lot of people.”
Information: Rachel Kaub, Claude Stephenson, Barry Lauesen, Karl Stalnaker Zoe Economou, Paul Ingles, Albuquerque Journal, June 8, 2014. Imd.com, Santa Fe Reporter, January 20, 1988.
edited by Kent Paterson
