Newsday (Nassau Edition) from Hempstead, New York • 108

CHi. 67 A WENT TV TE: AD LI's First Commercial TV Station Is Born 67 By Leo Seligsohn hadn't been easy. Lassie got lost; a small promotional balloon lolled into Long Island's skies scared up reports of en unidentified flying object and a large balloon carrying a reporter-cameraman crashlanded in Bay Shore. Back at the studio, a "gremlin hum" in Studio A's sound system brought technicians flying in from California after causing unscripted travail for Long Island's first soap-opera family, The Fairchilds. And for weeks, men installing air-conditioning ducts darted around directors, announcers and technicians who gamely tried to hold their posiMons in control rooms and studios.

But that's all over now. At 8:28 AM yesterday, with the American flag flying and strains of the "Star Spangled Banner" filling the air with the sound of a battle won, WSNL-TV (Ch. 67) began broadcasting. Finally, after more than a year's preparation, Long Island's first commercial television station, with its 447-foot-high antenna and 000,000 watts of output, was beaming its virgin programming across Nassau and Suffolk counties plus points in New York City, Connecticut, New Jersey and Westchester. At 8:30 AM, viewers who tuned in to catch this historic event saw the electronic curtain rise on a cartoon about an 11-year-old boy, Johnny Quest, who helps capture a laser beam being used to foil moon landings.

The station could have used the kid yesterday morning to help fight some of the gremlins and other electronic villains that tried to foil the big launch. After Albert Becker, production manager, said, "Roll it," and Lyn Snyder, morning engineer, pushed the starting button, it took only a half hour for the first crisis to occur: A balky reel caused a wight delay in the start of the next cartoon. Then audio problems forced announcer Art Welsh to cut in with: "We are experiencing sound difficulties. But the minor difficulties were quickly overcome and David Polinger, station president, seemed unperturbed. "I'm thrilled," he said.

Despite the day's demanding activities, events ended at midnight on a note of quiet jubilation. It was not generated simply by the fact that the initiation was now over. A sweet smell of success had been wafting through the hallways of Ch. 67 since its million-dollar, building in Hauppauge opened its doors about two months ago. It was clear that the executives, news personnel, technicians and on-the-air personalities recruited during the past year had begun to feel that they were part of something big and exciting.

There were dreams, of course, that, someday, many of Long Island's 750,000 homes would be tuning in; that many of the unknowns going through their repeated dry runs would someday be household names. But beyond that, there were the unexpected reasons for rejoicing. The first positive signs cccurred abortly after Oct. 15, when the FCC let Ch..