|
Gospel over On any Sunday night, radio host Ben Hill's attention is focused inside the tiny studio, working the sound board and computer, sorting through stacks of CDs and cueing the commercials.
the airwaves
Radio host Ben Hill's musical
ministry spreads hope, joy and
prayer across the islandBy Mary Adamski
madamski@starbulletin.comBut he also is focused outward as the calls come in to "The Gospel Connection" affirming what he knows about his following: Dozens of men and women in the state's prison system are tuned in. Nearly all the calls to "Brother Ben" during last Sunday's show were from the spouses, children and supporters of prisoners sending messages and dedicating songs to their incarcerated family and friends.
"We try to minister and to uplift," said Hill, who has hosted the KAIM-FM show for 10 years, four hours of traditionally black gospel music as his niche on the contemporary Christian music station. The program airs from 6 to 10 p.m.
|
"Music is a way to speak to people without talking," said Hill. "We're here to try to keep them up, to be a bit of encouragement. I consider this a ministry."Hill grew up in Cleveland and was ordained in the Church of God in Christ. He served at the City of Refuge in Waipahu for a few years and organized a community gospel choir that recently disbanded. He is sales and merchandise manager with the Army and Air Force Exchange.
"We started out to expose the islands to gospel music, and it just kind of boomed," he said. Although all of the music he plays is by black artists and the music is a part of African-American culture, "I deliberately don't use that description. Music is for everybody," and, he said, a large portion of his audience is local listeners.
"I try to have the show stay vibrant, to have a message but not be preachy." He engaged callers in conversation, recognized many by voice and assured them that he is praying for them as well as the person for whom they were dedicating a song.
In response to a caller's expressed fear about her loved one coming to harm inside the prison, he decided to substitute from his planned program, just one of several ad libs during the course of the night. The decision set his sidekick Charles James to searching for a specific lyric on a particular album. "It has a gold triangle," said Hill; it was found in seconds in a shuffle through dozens of CDs.
"Good music can be a message without being preachy," said James, an Air Force retiree who has been Hill's backup in the booth for about a year. "Music can be low key, nonjudgmental." James says he keeps praying for "Brother Ben" and the callers and listeners all night, and indeed, his lips move in soundless whisper throughout the show.
"My wife is having a major struggle," a Kaimuki caller told Hill, giving intimate details about her medication and problems. Hill's warm, assuring voice made their exchange seem like a private chat, leading a listener to wonder if the caller realized how many ears are tuned to his sharing.
Six-year-old Sadie Matilda is a veteran at this, and there's no doubt she knew she had a wider audience than Daddy. "I love you, Daddy. God bless," crooned the piping voice.
Her mother, Kainoa Pokipala, said there is a network of listeners who respond to each other, too. She sent out her prayers to other regulars after a message to her husband in Halawa Community Correctional Center.
"I really love that station. It really lifts up my husband and a lot of inmates," said Pokipala. Married for seven years and separated by his three years in prison, she said she's proud of his spiritual growth while confined. "He works in the chapel and he's taking computer classes. He is doing really positive things.
"I lift up my husband. I know God has a plan for him and I," said the Halawa resident. "I believe the Lord above changed my husband. I can see the signs he came a long way and changed a lot. My husband's favorite song is 'Wherever I Go' by Luther Barnes, but I request any soothing gospel song," she said.
Two ex-convicts were studio guests Sunday. Roy Yamamoto and Dino Williamson, now in the prison ministry of New Hope Christian Fellowship, talked about their fall into drugs and crime, and their conversion experiences. "I lost my life at that time," Yamamoto said of his crystal methamphetamine addiction, the end of a trail of drug use that started when he was a teenager. "The brothers in the cells, I know tears are coming to their eyes," he told Hill after listening to callers.
Yamamoto said a cellmate brought him to a Bible study. "I would feed on that all week."
Williamson said, "I lost my family, my house because of ice." He finally saw the light after 17 years of drug use and during his fourth prison term. "My roommate said we'll pray at night. It brought me back.
"To all the brothers ... give it all to God when you come outside," Williamson said. "I've been clean and sober for eight years. The Lord has blessed me so much."
Hill said the calls about prisoners carry a wider message to the community, "giving a different perspective on prison. It shows how families are serving a sentence, too.
"We try to be warm, loving, caring, encouraging to them. We want it to be motivating, healing and ultimately life-changing," said Hill, who has had state prison officials on as guests and once did a live broadcast from the Halawa prison.
"To have kid saying 'I'm praying for you' helps keep a person grounded. A lot have to battle before they can get grounded in God. A lot have been in and out of prison."
Hill said black gospel music is the fastest-growing segment in the music business today. Beyond the familiar quartet harmony, big shouting choir sounds, "gospel covers such a wide style. There's traditional, and now there's what they call urban gospel with artists like Gospel Gangsters and Kurt Franklin.
"People now, especially blacks, are much more musically educated, so you get more because they have more to give, they can express themselves better.
"A lot of young people like hip-hop or R&B ... now they can hear good music with words that are faith-filled, uplifting, moving, soul-stirring. Now we have the same pie, but it has a lot more slices, all seasoned a bit differently.
"In the past there was the same chord structure," Hill said of traditional black church music. "If you played more jazz chord structures, there wasn't a place for you in the church, it almost was viewed like devil music. Now it has opened up, and those musicians don't have to play in bars, they are actually accepted in the church world.
"People who have a proclivity to that kind of music can now hear it in church."
Click for online
calendars and events.
