A leading advocate for independent producers and openness in the governance of public broadcasting, Laurence S. Hall died Feb. 21 [2004] after a recurrence of cancer, according to one of his sons, Ole Hall. He was 74.
Hall was one of "the three Larrys" — the others being Lawrence Daressa and Lawrence Sapadin — who were among the leaders of the 1980s movement to secure a role for independent producers in public TV.
If there was one person responsible for that "modest miracle of legislation," Daressa said recently, it was Hall.
"He's the person who should have won a Ralph Lowell Award," said Jeff Chester, an activist who worked for the legislation.
Hall's day job was theoretical physics, working in nonmilitary research at the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory. But he became an activist supporting the United Farmworkers strike in the early 1970s.
His ex-wife, Nancy Hall-Manning, said Hall loved KQED-TV's groundbreaking, shirtsleeves Newsroom news program, which started during a newspaper strike in 1968. "It was wonderful because you could get real, honest information," she recalled. But foundation aid dwindled, the show declined and KQED became a disappointment to many activists.
Hall supported a staff strike at KQED in 1974 and founded the Committee to Save KQED and the California Public Broadcasting Forum, said fellow activist Henry Kroll. The groups watchdogged the station for the next decade. In 1980, the forum challenged KQED's license for its little-used second channel, KQEC, leading to the FCC's revocation of its license in 1988. The channel was snapped up by the independent PTV station KMTP.
After failing to get California to require open meetings and open records for public broadcasting stations, Kroll said, Hall took the issue to Washington, where he worked with Carter administration official Henry Geller to put the provisions into the Public Telecommunications Financing Act in 1978.
"To me, the most long-term and most important victory they had was to get the sunshine laws passed," says Dee Dee Halleck, a media activist and filmmaker who lobbied with Hall for the legislation.
Hall and other advocates for independent producers also won an amendment in the same 1978 law requiring CPB to devote "substantial" funding to indie productions. A decade later, the three Larrys, Halleck and other advocates won support from House Democrats, including John Dingell (Mich.), Henry Waxman (Calif.), Edward Markey (Mass.) and Al Gore (Tenn.) for a stronger provision in the Public Telecommunications Act of 1988, mandating CPB to fund an independent agency to support indie works. In 1991, CPB began funding the Independent Television Service created by producers. This eventually led to public TV's ongoing series P.O.V., Independent Lens and similar filmmaker showcases on local stations.
"What really motivated Larry was a profound belief that a vibrant democracy needs an independent form of media," said Kroll.
"He was persistent to the point of irrationality," Daressa said. Activism was Hall's social life, said Hall-Manning. He was an imposing presence and skillful advocate, friends said, but he was strong-willed and often alienated colleagues as well as opponents.
In recent years, activists lost track of Hall, though he was seen occasionally
attending the opera. He returned to physics, making notes on the back of grocery
lists and working on a paper to disprove leading theories of black holes,
said his ex-wife. His family hopes to get it published.
Hall is survived by four sons — Dana, David, Ole and Quincy. Friends
and family will attend a memorial service May 22 at David Hall's home in Livermore,
Calif.
Earlier story
Profile: Public TV gadfly
citizen Larry Hall
Larry Hall is a man public TV broadcasters love to hate. The 59-year-old retired government physicist has spent countless hours during the last 14 years pressuring public television to devote more resources to his favorite cause: independent producers. Two weeks ago, Hall and his cause won a major victory when the House Energy and Commerce Committee voted to require the Corporation for Public Broadcasting to create and fund a national independent program service.
“He's been an important leader of the effort, in particular with his experience and insight into the legislative process,'' said Larry Sapadin, co-chairman of the National Coalition of Independent Public Broadcasting Producers, for whom Hall served as chief Washington lobbyist.
But he doesn't only spend time on Capitol Hill. In his home state of California, the indefatigable Hall has been a leader of the Committee to Save KQED, a citizens' group that since 1974 has been waging battle with the management of the San Francisco public TV stations over a host of issues, demanding that the stations air more work by independent and minority producers, hire more minorities, change the process by which members are elected to the station's board, and provide public access to KQED's mailing list. A big man, a looming white-bearded presence that fills a doorway, Hall said last week that “KQED is not returning the community's money in terms of service. It's much more concerned about its magazine.'' The magazine is Focus, a slick city magazine KQED publishes.
These efforts have not won Hall many admirers among public broadcasting leaders. “I can't imagine why Current newspaper would waste time, energy and space profiling someone as insignificant as Laurence Hall. But if you are, I have no comment,'' KQED President Tony Tiano said last week through a spokesperson. Public Broadcasting Service President Bruce Christensen declined to talk with Current about Hall, while National Association for Public Television Stations President David Brugger said he didn't know what Hall did on Capitol Hill. Corporation for Public Broadcasting President Donald Ledwig was away on vacation and could not be reached for comment, but General Counsel Paul Symczak said he had nothing to say about Hall.
Even among those with less at stake, Hall is known as a fanatic. He's “frothing. He's rabid about things, not necessarily cool, calm, collected and persuasive,'' said one congressional staffer whose gotten the Hall treatment. But the aide, who asked not to be identified, added that “he's very devoted and very committed. He leaves no stone unturned.''
And Hall's efforts have won him the admiration of some in public broadcasting. “He's one of the beacons as well of one of the bastions of how public broadcasting should serve the viewing audiences,'' said James Yee, president of the National Asian American Telecommunications Association.
So what drives the independent producers' main lobbyist, a non-broadcaster, to spend his time fighting a long and slow battle? “He believes in citizen democracy,'' explains Gail Silva, managing director of Film Arts Foundation, a San Francisco Bay Area organization for independent film and video makers. She continues that Hall, who worked with plasma physics and nonlinear theory, believes that “people have to be responsible for things that affect them.''
“Electronic media is the main literature of our society today. It is the literature by which most people learn what's going on, most influential in the lives of the society,'' explains Hall. “Why public broadcasting? There were more opportunities to be effective.''
Hall also does his work for free. “He does everything on his own. He spends a lot of his own money'' said Yee. But Hall said that independent producers' organizations pay some of his expenses.
Hall became involved in the growing San Francisco media reform movement in the mid 1970s and joined the Committee to Save KQED as an organizer and its unofficial legal counsel. The committee is a citizens' group that continues to challenge KQED Inc.'s licenses at the Federal Communications Commission, although the FCC's review board in May revoked the license to KQED Inc.'s UHF TV station.
Since joining the Committee to Save KQED, Hall has also worked on public broadcasting policy with the Carter administration and lobbied the California state legislature, in addition to his other national work on behalf of independent producers.
The twice-divorced father of four sons takes care of the two that live at home. His persistence in lobbying may have contributed to his failed marriages: One friend described Hall as a man who's lost two wives over public TV.
Others describe Hall as a compassionate man. Yee said he is “a nice guy. He talks a lot, God! He can talk your ears off — but with great common sense.'' Mackaman said Hall is also a very considerate man. “Larry is the person who steps in and says thanks,'' Mackaman said. She remembers so liking a dish Hall once cooked for her that she asked him for the recipe. “He sent me a card from Washington,'' she said. “Inside was the recipe — he'd taken a break from his lobbying to write it down.''
Web page posted April 13, 2004
Current
The newspaper about public TV and radio
in the United States
Current Publishing Committee, Takoma Park, Md.
Copyright 2004
Larry Hall (Photo: Lawrence Sapadin)
EARLIER ARTICLES
Three leaders of the lobbying campaign for indies had different skills but shared a first name.
Hall raised questions about KQED operations that later led the FCC to revoke its license for second channel, 1988.
Hall and colleagues criticized KQED management before and during its fiscal crisis in the early 1990s. "Those people over the years have been the single most destructive force in the history of KQED," said former employee Jim Scalem.
OUTSIDE LINKS
History of KQED in 1970s on the station's website and gallery of photos.