Takoma Radio Celebrates 10 Years in Tune with Its Community 11%
By Joshua H. Shields10%
8/5/2026, 6:05:00 AM
BS Summary: This article contains 27 faulty reasoning types, including Anecdotal, Confirmation Bias, and Post Hoc (False Cause), with Hasty Generalization as the most egregious example at 8.3% saturation with 186 hits. Analysis detected 1,830 faulty-reasoning hits from 2,247 analyzed words, generating a BS Score of 20.3% and a BS Rank of 11% (27,004 of 30,190 articles). This article is better (less manipulative) than 89.40% of the article peer group.
Lady Myrrh with Bob Boilen at the headquarters of Takoma Radio WOWD-94.3 FM.
Photo credit: Darrow Montgomery
D.C. locals are forgiven for avoiding the National Mall this summer.
But among the warren of fences surrounding the Reflecting Pool and the Potemkin village that was the Great American State Fair, Takoma Radio WOWD —named Best Radio Station in July by City Paper readers for the second year in a row—occupied the Radio Corner at the 2026 Smithsonian Folklife Festival in late June.
There, the local station continued to do the same thing it has done for the past 10 years: send out good vibes.
Its DJs spent weeks preparing shows intended to honor the communities who make America.
In a twist of fate, on June 25, the same day the U.S.
Supreme Court ruled that the Trump administration could end Temporary Protected Status for hundreds of thousands of refugees, NPR expat Melissa Block played a set of music by immigrant artists for her weekly show The Ramble .
While Syrian American musician Bedouine ’s “ One of These Days ” emanated from the Smithsonian’s Arts & Industries Building, less than two miles from the Supreme Court, Takoma Radio’s remote broadcast booth was the first thing guests encountered inside the entrance of the Renaissance revival-style building.
Nearby, Takoma Radio founder Marika Partridge shared tips for interviewing with a smartphone to a group of young creatives.
An hour earlier, WOWD program director Bob Boilen , another NPR vet and founder of the Tiny Desk series, interviewed curator and senior archivist of Folkways Recordings Jeff Place about the Folklife Festival’s history.
Station manager Olivia Ellis Randolph , who was new to radio when she volunteered to help launch the station in 2016, coordinated the pop-up broadcast.
With up-and-coming musician Sophie Mae Wellington playing in front of a WOWD backdrop, the station broadcast days of programming from the Smithsonian’s second-oldest building.
The event, in stark contrast to the nation’s semiquincentennial, was a nice kickoff for Takoma Radio’s 10-year anniversary, which it celebrated on July 16.
Build It and They Will Come
Fifteen years ago, public radio vet Partridge had a vision.
She was working at NPR when she found out the FCC was removing technical restrictions that had largely prevented new low-power FM stations (a class of noncommercial, community-oriented stations) in crowded urban markets like the D.C. area.
Fed up with streaming, Partridge wanted to share an older technology, an analog antithesis to the avarice and algorithmic backroom cul-de-sac that traps so many of today’s music lovers.
For her, the antidote was community radio.
“I subscribe to the Field of Dreams build it and they will come philosophy,” she tells City Paper .
But creating a local radio station in the D.C. area wasn’t simple or straightforward.
It started with a handful of supporters meeting on her porch in Takoma Park to see if they could secure an exceedingly rare opportunity to broadcast in the country’s eighth largest radio market.
It was competitive.
At least five entities applied for the FCC Low Power service, which was created in 2000 to ensure local communities have access to the airwaves.
Because a full-power FM station can cost millions to acquire and operate, many communities—especially nonprofits, schools, churches, and neighborhoods—had no realistic way to own and operate a station.
The goals of the FCC’s policy are to increase local programming, lower the cost of entry to radio, promote diverse voices, and provide community support, like when a neighborhood may need highly targeted information during a storm or local emergency.
When the FCC officially opened the application process, lawyers and engineers donated their time to help apply for the license.
Partridge’s mission was to court an established 501c3 nonprofit, which was required as part of the FCC application.
“And guess what?
It’s really hard to find those organizations,” Partridge says.
Finally, “Historic Takoma agreed that our mission aligned with their mission … and they agreed to sponsor us and go on this radio adventure,” Randolph says.
“It was a minefield of rules,” Partridge recalls.
The applications were public and lawyers would examine each for the slightest error.
“We had to put our nose to the grindstone and keep it clean, clean, clean,” she says.
“It’s the weirdest process ever.”
Michael Richards , the attorney for Historic Takoma, the legal entity that applied for the FCC license, reviewed the competing applications and filed objections to edge out the competition.
On January 21, 2015, the FCC granted Historic Takoma’s construction permit.
Partridge’s cohort of volunteers, led by broadcast engineer Jonathan Charr and software engineer Stuart Moore (who died in 2021 from a brain tumor; the studio is now named for him), built a storefront studio in downtown Takoma Park.
Photo credit: Darrow Montgomery
Partridge spoke the first words from the station at 9:43 a.m. on July 16, 2016: “Good morning, world, this is Takoma Radio.”
But even once an FCC license is secured, a station can go silent if it doesn’t have proper stewards.
Arlington’s community radio station WERA-LP , established in 2015, went off the air in March 2024 after county officials uncovered financial mismanagement of public funds during an audit.
(The station currently plays a generic loop of lo-fi music, along with the required station identification, on repeat as new leadership, which is emulating Takoma Radio’s volunteer-forward approach, seeks to resurrect WERA-LP.)
Only 112 days elapsed before the station faced its first test: the election of Donald Trump .
When you’re broadcasting on government airwaves, you can’t threaten to overthrow the government, Partridge points out.
“People were calling in and saying they had a show planned but [couldn’t] do it because of the election,” she says.
“We told them, ‘No, no, no—you will do all of what you planned.’
There were other outlets to express rage.
Listeners are coming to the station to hear the music and get away from that reality.”
A Different Kind of Programming
Takoma Radio broadcasts at 20 watts, which means it reaches a potential audience of 250,000 people within five miles from its antenna in downtown Takoma Park.
It also streams worldwide.
Unlike other stations on the FM dial, which are almost all commercial entities, Takoma Radio’s programming decisions are not based on listener analytics.
Streaming numbers are accessible but inconsequential and the number of FM listeners isn’t known.
Shows continue as long as the DJ lives in the area and their passion for the music they want to play is undiminished.
Today, the station’s volunteer DJs—almost 100, ranging in age from high schoolers to octogenarians—fill up almost every hour between 8 a.m. and 11 p.m., seven days a week, playing a range of music that’s as diverse as Takoma’s community.
The genres span jazz and cumbia to ska and folk, but there are also talk shows that focus on local public affairs and one show, We Are Takoma/Somos Takoma , covers cultural topics in English and Spanish.
Earlier this year, the station added 15 new shows, including Amuse Bouche , focused on Francophone music, and Darlin’ Companion , a two-hour Americana and roots music show.
Bob Boilen.
Photo credit: Darrow Montgomery
Despite producing radio for decades (including creating NPR’s All Songs Considered ), My Tiny Morning Show , which airs Wednesdays at 8 a.m., is the first show Boilen considers his own.
After retiring from NPR in 2023, Boilen stepped into the role of program director at WOWD the following year.
Today, he is responsible for coordinating all on-air programming.
His role is one of two paid part-time positions at the station (the other is station manager Randolph, who handles finances, fundraising, promotions, partnerships, legal aspects, and everything off-the-air).
As program director, Boilen works with the station’s programming committee—made up of the station’s DJs—to select new shows.
There are a few requirements: For one, DJs must live close enough to the station, ideally within the listening area, to broadcast from the studio.
But a background in radio or technical prowess isn’t necessary.
“We want people who have a passion that will take the listener somewhere,” Bolien says.
If the programming committee finds a proposal interesting, and it’s something that the station doesn’t currently offer, Boilen will request a 15-minute demo.
New DJs receive technical training—learning things like FCC requirements—and practice in the radio station when a live show isn’t happening (a vast music library fills any unscheduled time).
The most important lessons are learned through mistakes, Boilen says.
Randolph, who hosts Rise Up , the Saturday morning show for children, remembers her early radio lessons: “One of the most fulfilling experiences of my life was learning what a creative space radio can be.
I learned that from Marika.
She creates a world for the listener.”
Partridge credits her radio mentor from Alaska, Rich McClear , with her knack for storytelling.
“He always told me to picture an audience of one.
It can be a friend down the block.
I am always thinking about catching that one person’s ears.”
That philosophy, which is part of the station’s training, creates a parasocial relationship between the DJ and listener, says Randolph, who is also a cultural anthropologist.
“There’s a special bond and trust over the air, kind of like a prayer,” she adds.
“DJs don’t know who they are connecting with; but they continue, week by week, to speak from the heart and play their music because they believe in it and are inspired to share what moves them.”
From Sitka to Takoma
Perhaps the only thing that Takoma Radio shares with a Big Tech company is a deep reverence for its founder.
Without Partridge’s vision, and her love of radio, the station wouldn’t exist.
Unsurprisingly, Takoma Radio isn’t the first community station she’s conjured into being.
In 1978, Partridge moved to Sitka, Alaska, on Baranof Island.
She arrived shortly after an organizer, who was trying to bring public radio to the community, died in a climbing accident.
Inspired by the departed organizer’s vision, Partridge decided to take up the mantle—all that was missing, after all, was someone to step into the shoes of leadership.
Partridge began working with a handful of supporters.
Four years later she got KCAW, also known as Raven Radio , live.
KCAW helped fill a void in the area, Partridge says.
It connected far-flung fishing villages to the rest of the world via news programming (oddly the opposite of what Takoma Radio offers, which is a respite from the news).
Partridge recruited Scott Simon , then an up-and-coming national reporter for NPR (and now the longtime host of NPR’s Weekend Edition ), to teach KCAW’s DJs during those early years.
Little did she know, he would encourage her to leave Alaska and seek out a job at NPR.
She did exactly that in 1988, when she flew to D.C., rented a small apartment in Takoma Park, and landed a temporary tech role at the station.
Later hired as director of All Things Considered , Partridge says working at NPR underscored her love of community radio.
“When my community radio instincts came out at NPR, I would sometimes be put back in my place,” she says.
But the part she loved most about working at the outlet was telling stories about people—something, she says, that community radio does best.
The Beginning of a “Groovy” Idea
Lady Myrrh.
Photo credit: Darrow Montgomery
Partridge was attending a documentary opening at AFI Silver Theatre and Cultural Center when she first learned that the FCC was going to open applications for new Low Power FM stations in the area in 2013.
Just like she did in Sitka, Partridge put out the call, this time in the Takoma Voice , and hoped community support would manifest.
Many of those early supporters thought she needed DJs.
“When someone shows up and says they want to be treasurer or secretary—it’s a gift,” she says.
That volunteer was Randolph.
Randolph, who had just moved to the area, knew that community radio attracted a certain type of person—creative, curious, playful, she says—and she wanted to meet those people.
Immediately upon meeting Partridge, she thought, “I’m sticking with her.”
At those early meetings, the attendees hashed out ideas for the scope of the station and practical matters, such as content, location, and format.
Partridge’s daughter went to Value Village for used cotton T-shirts and made screen prints of an early graphic design, created by then-local artist William L .
Brown .
Volunteers sold them at the Takoma Street Fair, telling inquiring customers about their plan to create a community radio station.
Today, the station operates as an independent nonprofit.
Partridge, Randolph, and Boilen make up its three board members.
Operating on less than $100,000 a year, funding comes mostly from listeners, many of whom are monthly donors.
The station is also sponsored by a handful of small local businesses.
I.M.P., the concert promoter behind local venues like the 9:30 Club, offers ticket giveaways to the station.
Overall, the first decade has been “groovy,” says Partridge, adding, “No one has ever stolen anything.
No one has ever done anything on purpose to hurt us.”
All three members of Takoma Radio’s board recognize the impact community radio has had—and continues to have—on their lives.
“Music is the key to everything,” Partridge says simply.
“It brings people together.”
Takoma Radio’s rescheduled 10-year anniversary party, featuring live music from Bongo District , starts at 3 p.m. on Oct. 3 at Desert Five Spot.
Speakers
7speakers28%attributed speech1,607writer words
Selected voice
100%flagged-word coverageBolien
15 attributed words2.3% of attributed speech49% writer coverage
Attribution is sentence-level. Pattern percentages are calculated only from words assigned to that voice.
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