Jill's Journal: WKRP is getting new life in Cincinnati

It was Nov. 13, 2024, when I wrote about the great turkey drop – the one that proved, once and for all, that gravity is undefeated and turkeys are not built for aviation.

And now, just when I thought we had safely grounded that conversation for another year, along comes news that has me clutching my drumstick a little tighter.

For those of us who back in the day tuned into a half-hour television sitcom, WKRP in Cincinnati, you’re probably already smiling – or at the very least, hearing the panicked voice of a certain bespectacled newsman echoing in your head.

“As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly.”

That line, delivered with absolute conviction by Les Nessman, is the stuff of television legend. It came from the 1978 episode “Turkeys Away,” which, if you’ve seen it, is forever etched into your Thanksgiving memory right alongside stuffing and pie.

And if you haven’t seen it, first you need to Google it. Second, it involves a radio promotion, a helicopter, and a deeply flawed understanding of poultry physics.

But here’s where things get even better – or worse – depending on your feelings about airborne livestock.

WKRP is coming back to Cincinnati.

For real.

After nearly five decades of living as a fictional radio station with very real comedic consequences, the call letters are being revived and headed to the Queen City. Somewhere, I imagine Les Nessman is nervously adjusting his tie and asking if anyone has double-checked the flight capabilities of farm animals.

Now, I don’t want to alarm anyone, but history – both fictional and, ahem, South Dakota-flavored – suggests we proceed with caution.

Because as I wrote back in November, that “infamous” sitcom episode may have been comedy, but it literally “hit” a little close to home.

Turns out, long before television writers ever dreamed up the phrase “bags of wet cement,” there was a little event in Gettysburg, S.D., in 1973 that put the “drop” in turkey drop.

Real turkeys. Real airplane. Real bad idea.

As one observer noted at the time, things seemed like “a great sport”… right up until the first turkey exited the aircraft and immediately demonstrated that it had absolutely no intention – or ability – to glide.

At roughly 75 miles per hour.

Straight down.

No flapping. No soaring. No inspirational Disney moment.

Just … thud.

Multiple thuds, actually.

Another account described the birds as “living battering rams,” which is not a phrase you want associated with your holiday centerpiece. And while, thankfully, no one was injured, there were close calls, messy outcomes, and at least one unsuspecting bystander who went home wearing more turkey than she had planned.

It was, in short, the kind of event that makes you understand exactly why someone like Les Nessman might dramatically compare it to a disaster broadcast.

And yet … we laughed.

We laughed then. We laughed in 1978. We laughed again in 2024. And here I am, still laughing in 2026.

Because now WKRP is back.

Which raises a very important question:

Have we learned nothing?

I mean, I trust modern radio professionals. I do. I’m sure there are meetings. Committees. Probably even a PowerPoint presentation titled “Things We Will Not Drop From Aircraft.”

But still, all it takes is one overly enthusiastic promotion director with a flair for nostalgia and a questionable grasp of aerodynamics.

And suddenly, we’re all looking up.

With Thanksgiving yet months away, let this serve as a gentle reminder to all with access to a helicopter:

Turkeys don’t fly.

Not in Cincinnati.

Not in Gettysburg.

Not anywhere.

Most times, they come from the freezer section of a grocery store.

And honestly, that’s probably where the “hunt” for our “prized” birds should stay.