Things I’ve Learned: John L. Hanson, Jr

The KUT radio producer and DJ talks about his 40 years in Austin

Originally published in Austin Monthly July 2017; Photo by George Brainard

Since 1974, Detroit native John L. Hanson Jr. (aka John E. Dee) has been a DJ, show producer, host, and two-time interim general manager at KUT. His Friday evening KUTX show, Old School Dance Party, gives a whole new meaning to “traffic jam.” When he’s not playing the songs that got you in trouble, Hanson hosts and produces In Black America every Tuesday on KUT at 9:30 p.m. 

Has music always played a big role in your life? 

We had a radio in our kitchen, so music was the first thing I heard in the morning and the last thing I heard at night. Growing up in Detroit during the middle of the ’60s, you got Motown, Atlantic with Aretha Franklin. Regardless of what kind of music you liked, Detroit had it. 

Were you ever a musician? 

I was a musician in high school. My father played the trumpet, and, being the eldest son, I did too. Then I got interested in sports. First year of football, I used to go play with the band at halftime with my football uniform on. 

What brought you to Austin? 

I received an athletics scholarship in track and field to attend Huston-Tillotson. I was a reporter and a DJ in high school. My mom said, “This is fine, son, but you’re going to college.” I came to Texas in August with this wool letter sweater on. It was 100 degrees, and I’m sweating bullets. I said, “This was a bad idea.” Back then, 12th and Chicon was like the corner of my neighborhood where the brothers hung out all day and drank wine and talked smack. And I’m saying, I flew 1,500 miles to come to a place that looks exactly like the place I just left? That was shocking. 

You’ve been at KUT since 1974. What’s kept you there so long?

What I do. I’ve been able to play what I want, interview who I want, and tell whatever stories I want to tell. It’s been a blessing that people can hear what I do, particularly young African-Americans. That may inspire them to be a talk show host, a journalist, a DJ. There were so few African-Americans at UT when I first began in ’74—outside of the janitorial staff. 

How did you get the gig hosting In Black America?

1980, I was doing Soul on FM, and management thought it wasn’t necessary anymore because KAZI was coming. The former host of In Black America left, and they approached me about doing it. They said, “You’re doing Soul on FM, reaching the Austin audience. But if you do In Black America, you’ll reach a broader national audience.” That made a lot of sense. I’ve always been around music and news, so I knew the rudiments. On In Black America, you address the issues facing African-Americans while also celebrating the accomplishments. 

Can you speak to your mission for the show?

My mantra is to educate and be educated. I want to give not just African-Americans but the community at large a perspective on the African-American journey, where it’s come from and where it’s going. I think everyone should be able to appreciate and understand everyone else if we’re going to live here together. If you don’t understand your history, you have no clue what the future’s going to look like.

What’s your favorite thing about what you do?

At the end of the day, I hope I’ve brought a little sunshine into someone’s life with the Old School Dance Party. You play a song that’s endearing to you, but you don’t know if it’s endearing to somebody else. But every now and then, someone will say thanks. A couple weeks ago, a young lady sent me an email: “John E. Dee, thanks for playing ‘Car Wash.’ I got a chance to explain to my twin daughters what I roller-skated to when I was a teenager.” To actually make a difference to someone’s day? That’s good.

You have a distinctive voice. Are you ever recognized out in public?

People keep telling me that! But, yes. I try to keep my voice low, but people recognize me. I don’t mind that. What’s uncomfortable is people fussing over me. I’ve always looked at what I do as a job. I don’t trip on being on the radio. People have an opportunity to hear what I do, but what they do is just as significant.   

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