O’Day graduated from Bremerton High School in 1953. When he enrolled in broadcasting school in Tacoma and began perfecting his delivery, he says, he realized the secret to his father’s success as a broadcaster was being “one-on-one” with his listeners. “Whenever I was on the air, I’d look at the microphone and envision one person and talk to her or him,” O’Day says.
KVAS in Astoria, Oregon, in the fall of 1956, was O’Day’s first stop on the back roads to a major market. “In between reading lost dog reports and funeral home ads, he developed his ‘Platter Party’ concept, which meant broadcasting rock hits from remote teenage sock hops on weekends, thus turning the previously sterile medium of radio into an ‘event,’ ” wrote Northwest music historian Peter Blecha.
Moving to KLOG in Kelso, the young deejay, still going by Paul Berg, perfected his snappy, “faintly ironic” patter and began staging teen dance parties at the National Guard Armory to supplement his $350-a-month salary. He arrived in Yakima in 1958, lured by the promise of the program director’s slot and a $100 raise.
When KJR announced it was switching to a Top 40 format, O’Day landed his dream job. On New Year’s Day 1960, he went on the air at KJR for the first time. Little did he know it would be his home for the next 15 years.
In 1964 and 1965, the national radio industry acknowledged his power, voting him top Program Director. In 1966, O'Day was voted "Radioman of the Year" and was also honored (along with a select few other iconic radio men) with his own volume of the popular Crusin' LP series that featured his powerhouse patter wedged between compiled period hits. As Seattle's highest-profile DJ of the 1960s and the region's dominant dance promoter, Pat O'Day ran Northwest rock 'n' roll for nearly a decade.
O'Day, KJR's star DJ, was eventually promoted to Program Director and, by 1968, to General Manager. He oversaw the production of each week's Fab-50 play-list -- inclusion on this list was virtually the only way a record could become a hit in this area.
Additionally, O'Day produced or engineered numerous recordings by many of the top bands on the KJR play-list including the Wailers, the Viceroys, the Dynamics, and the Casuals. And if that wasn't enough, he also ran an extensive teendance circuit across the region -- which was the most profitable part of his empire and perhaps the most visible.
By 1962, O'Day was making more than $50,000 a year just from throwing dances. By the mid-1960s O'Day and Associates were presenting over 58 separate teen-dances a week throughout the state. He was also producing concerts featuring Northwest bands, including The Fabulous Wailers, the Ventures and the Sonics.
By 1968, O’Day’s success as a concert promoter and high-key, wisecracking persona — not to mention KJR’s Top 40 format — had bred contempt among the cognoscenti in the city’s growing “underground.”
They branded him a greedy opportunist more interested in ratings and his piece of the action than “music that matters” — Buffalo Springfield, Dylan and The Byrds vs. “empty-headed crowd-pleasers” like the Beach Boys and Jan and Dean.
O’Day rose to station manager, all the while expanding his concert business and investing in real estate, cutting deals and hobnobbing with the stars. Notably, he recalls a pool party where he says Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey of The Who told their wild-man drummer, Keith Moon, to lighten up a bit because drum kits were more expensive to replace than guitars after the obligatory set-ending bashfest.
O’Day says he dabbled in cocaine and marijuana, but his drug of choice was alcohol: “A lot of times I went back on the air after a four-Jack Daniels lunch, and no one could tell.”
Worried friends staged an intervention in the spring of 1986. “I went to Schick Shadel Hospital vowing I would beat the system, thinking I’d go in for two weeks and get them off my back. Well, I walked out two weeks later and never had another drink. I felt like a new human. … Schick changed my life — maybe saved my life.”
If the old deejay sounds like an evangelist, it’s because he is. O’Day became the voice of Schick Shadel’s radio and TV commercials. He still gives the welcoming address to each incoming group of patients.
To recap, few broadcasters had greater impact on Pacific Northwest radio than Pat O’Day. His 15 years at KJR — from jock to program director to general manager, 1959-1974 — and the talent he put on the air, built KJR into an empire which at times captured more than 35 percent of the greater Seattle listening market. He was nationally recognized in 1964, ’65 and ’66. Often forgotten by many was his even greater financial success as an organizer/promoter (O’Day and Associates and later Concerts West) of teen dances and big name music concerts.
Pat O'Day passed away on August 4, 2020. He was 85 years old.