A small radio station helped fight racism in Northwoods. Now it's fighting for its life.

People still call them the “spearfishing wars.”   

In 1983, a federal court upheld an 1837 treaty that the Ojibwe Nation made with the United States that guaranteed Ojibwe tribal members the freedom to fish off the reservation the way they always had: by spearing at night during spawning. 

The backlash among some white Wisconsinites was intense. They feared the loss of fishing and related tourism industries and resented the rights retained by the Ojibwe. There were rallies in Madison where groups asked the government to intervene. Businesses from Minocqua to Hayward to Rhineland posted signs in their shop windows opposing treaty rights.

Police, state troopers and the Department of Natural Resources were called in to keep the peace. Protesters gathered at lake shores, 500 to 1,500 at a time, while native people speared walleye. The protesters often used explicitly racist comments and signs.  

Around the same time, one Ojibwe band started a radio station called WOJB.  

It’s a little station on the Lac Courte Oreilles Reservation, about 11 miles outside Hayward. WOJB, Woodland Community Radio at 88.9 FM, started broadcasting in April 1982.  

It’s an NPR affiliate that broadcasts news, interviews and music from its little red building on the reservation. The station has a small budget and three full-time staff members and a slew of volunteers who fill its airwaves with sound. 

As tensions surrounding spearfishing grew, WOJB broadcast on, sharing voices from both sides of the conflict. It also cut through the anger with something that brought Northwoods Wisconsin community together: music. 

The spearfishing wars have long since died down, but WOJB has forged a role in the community. It's become a kind of community hub, with a role in connecting members of the LCO tribe, communicating news to rural Northwoods residents and celebrating Native American traditions. The station has survived through decades, and has always, so far, found enough financial support to face challenges.

Today, though, persistent technical and financial struggles threaten its future. WOJB's transmitter is down, the result of technical failures. And as its leaders work to raise the money it will take to fix it, the station confronts the question: What does the future hold for this small, important community radio station?

Without money to fix its transmitter, WOJB's reach is severely restricted 

Hayward is in many ways the quintessential Northwoods Wisconsin town. It has a population just over 2,000 permanent residents, while about 3,000 people live on the nearby LCO reservation. But come summer, the area swells with visitors.  

They come for the lakes. And while they're there, they tune the radio dial to WOJB.  

People listen as they drive through the woods, while they’re cooking or as they gather around the campfire.

That may sound old-fashioned in the days of Spotify and Pandora. But in Wisconsin's Northwoods, internet reception is spotty at best, nonexistent at worst. You can hear WOJB from Rice Lake to Superior (almost 100 miles), so long as there aren't technical problems.

Unfortunately, WOJB has had a fair share of those. Right now, the station is running on a 500-watt amplifier instead of a 100,000-watt transmitter.  

The station's transmitter is down; it’s the victim of technical difficulties and failing equipment after decades of service. This isn't the first time the station has faced these problems, and fixing them is expensive, especially for a small-town station with an already stretched budget. 

In 2015, the transmitter went down. The station did a fundraising drive that raised enough for a new transmitter.  

"Instead of getting an upgrade, they bought the exact same one thinking we could use some of the parts from the old one," said Carissa Corbine, the station's general manager. That transmitter is from 1982.  

Just after Corbine came on in 2016, things started falling apart. The transmitter went out again. For months this time. 

Corbine described the station and facilities at that time as a bit of a mess: "It was a hoarding situation." 

Not even touching on the transmitter issues, she described the office: There were cords everywhere, music was in disarray, equipment strewn about. Previous staff members held onto broken equipment in case they needed a spare part, but it piled up.  

Today, it's neatly organized. The music collection is labeled and on shelves. 

"When you don’t have a lot of money, things can get 'Let’s fix it as fast as you can and do what you need to do to make it work,'" Corbine said. "Last year, 2016, when I had first started, we lost power, we couldn’t fix it. We brought someone in, the electrician said, 'Nothing is legal in here.'" 

Corbine set out to do it right. She hired a contractor, sound engineer Mark Lundeen, to help with the technical side and help the station convert to digital. She cleaned out the station. And she cleaned out the building that housed the transmitter. 

"It was a roof sitting on cinder blocks, that’s it. When we opened the electrical, there were dead mice fried in there," Corbine said.  

Through the help of volunteers who gave their time and money, the building is now in shape, but they need a transmitter. Corbine said a new one would cost about $80,000. She's hoping the tribe will help the station out, and if it doesn't, she'll have to ask the public for help.  

But asking for help is hard to do when your signal only goes out 20 or at best 50 miles. 

For the love of music 

People love WOJB.  

Visitors bring the station home with them (you can stream it on Tune In, Alexa and Google Home devices).  

Sirella Ford is an LCO tribal member, and she said, “I have relatives in London, and he is able to stream the powwow. It keeps us close.”  

The station gives a voice to the community.  

There are only two full-time staff members who go on air regularly. The rest of the airtime is filled by volunteers like Country Dave Keller, who hosts Saturday night honky tonk, or Joan Jacobowski, who hosts Electomania on Friday nights. 

Carissa Corbine said, “One of our most popular programs is honky tonk. He (Country Dave Keller) is a household name. People gather around the campfire to listen to him.”  

The station looks for diversity in its lineup. There's a reggae show, afropop, folk, blues, jazz, NPR's Morning Edition and Democracy Now.

Although WOJB is partnered with a tribe, there’s not that much overtly native programming. There’s Drum Song on Tuesday evenings. It's traditional powwow music and a favorite at the reservation. Native American Calling is from noon to 1 p.m. weekdays. Morning Fire Ojibwemowin is Saturday mornings, and Dead Dog Café is a native-produced comedy show from Canadian Public Radio.   

Journalist Paul DeMain, an LCO resident and Oneida tribal member, said, "When WOJB provided an opportunity to speak with each other, we found we have more in common in northern Wisconsin. WOJB allows us to explore that musical diversity and the cultural diversity as well. All the communities have a certain value and make up the fabric of northern Wisconsin, and WOJB is the epitome of that."

“At first the station was here to give a voice to the cause,” said Corbine. “In that way, we were able to find support. We were here to try to educate people and let them know what the treaties were about and just tribes in general."

The station became a community hub and helped cool tensions.  

And through its own hardships, the station has always carried on.

Music director Jeff Jones said, “I think with the changes we’re getting back on track on engaging with the community more again. When we weren’t broadcasting, it was hard to get any excitement in the community.”

“I've been asking people to write letters and share why they love the station, so I can present that to tribal council,” Corbine said. She’s an Ojibwe tribal member. “They listen to the powwow, they listen to Tuesday nights drum circle and honky tonk. We have a whole other audience that’s not just the tribe. We're a community station.”

DeMain said, "They're online; that allows people to tune in from anywhere in the world. That's getting into a whole new era. That may take them somewhere new as well. I think they can survive no matter what happens with the funding. I think they do have strong support."

Corbine hopes the tribe sees the value in the station. She’s made a point of getting out into the community.

This year, WOJB started a weekly live show at Koobie's Coffee in Hayward — you can watch on Facebook. The station returned to the Sawyer County Fair for the first time in years. And it broadcasts every year from the American Birkebeiner, an annual nordic ski race in Hayward, and at the LCO’s Honor the Earth Powwow.  

A community powwow and a big party, broadcast live on the air 

The powwow is every August; it’s a homecoming of sorts for tribal members. It’s also a community event, everyone is invited. And many do come. It’s mostly native people, but the crowd is diverse.

Ahead of this year's powwow, volunteers from WOJB set up speakers in the middle of the arena at LCO's powwow grounds. 

Country Dave Keller, the longtime Saturday night honky tonk DJ, was on a ladder in the middle of the arena, sorting through cords and attaching them to the correct speakers. Two people assisted, handing the cords up to him on the ladder and holding it steady while he worked. 

Corbine reminded herself out loud throughout the afternoon to go back to the station at the right time to flip the switch from the afternoon music programming to the powwow. 

And just before 7 p.m., Corbine, seized in a moment of panic, ran back to the station, just 100 yards away or so, to flip the switch. When she got there, she discovered Jones had already done it. 

She made it back to the powwow grounds and joined her family just as the music and dancing started.

People danced, sang and played drums well into the night. WOJB was there for it all, and its listeners, too.

The Honor the Earth Powwow is just an event, so is the Birkebeiner, so is the Sawyer County Fair. But each is a part of the fabric of northern Wisconsin. 

In the 25-plus years since the spearfishing wars, tensions have simmered. There are still occasional flareups, usually just on social media. Spearfishing carries on every year, and so does sport fishing. People visit Hayward, and they tune the dial to 88.9 FM. And if WOJB fixes its transmitter, people will still gather around the campfire listening to honky tonk.