WAGL

WAGL (1560 AM) was a radio station broadcasting an oldies format that was licensed to Lancaster, South Carolina, USA. The station was owned by B. L. "Len" Phillips Jr., under the name Palmetto Broadcasting System, Inc. B. L. Phillips Jr. died September 1st, 2014 at the age of 77. The station's license was turned in to the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) on November 2, 2014, and cancelled by the FCC on May 7, 2015. The station's website no longer works.

Because it shared the same frequency as "clear channel" station WFME in New York City (formally WQXR), WAGL only operated during the daytime hours.

Its transmitter site was located near the Catawba River, nearly 10 miles from its studio site at 101 S. Woodland Drive.

The call letters of WAGL stood for Weaving A Greater Lancaster.

References

External links

  • Query the FCC's AM station database for WAGL
  • Radio-Locator Information on WAGL
  • Query Nielsen Audio's AM station database for WAGL
  • Query the FCC's FM station database for W281BE
  • Radio-Locator information on W281BE
  • Podcasts:

    PLAYLIST TIME:

    Freedom Lasso

    by: Akala

    A rope tightens
    Breath constricted
    No hand pulls this is self-inflicted sickness
    Sickness
    Self diagnosed without witness
    Wish list grip fist
    The beggary of riches
    A belly full fights never willingly
    An empty stomach does not have the energy to finish it
    Layers in between
    Padded by a dream
    Stretching for the means
    Without thought of exhausting the seams
    No space for indiginity
    On the face of simplicity
    A taste of sufficiency's
    A bellyfull of lethargy
    A dash of apathy a pinch of extacy's a recipe
    Serving up a feast for the beast of our treachery
    Not sure if your getting celebrity's out effigy
    I hear just fine
    But I'm deaf to those next to me
    Conflict it perplexes me
    Cause out biggest battle
    Is now we're so free that we choose to be shackled
    I'm stuck freedom lasso
    This invisible strain of the human stain
    Colours every brain, vein
    Thus chained to another's pain
    We may not be the artist by we surely are the fram
    We may just be the smoke
    But we cannot blame the flame
    Strange is the fruit
    That nourishes not the vein
    Yet we are odder still
    For we seek it like the rain
    Nothing bounds out path
    Yet we march perfect in lane
    Whoever saw a tiger that desired to be tamed?
    Reality defies
    Nature does not know surprise
    Yet the lesion of our season blinds even the eagle's eyes
    Spies dread not headlock tight as threadknot
    Get lost why throw a bone to a dead dog?
    This is not charity
    That is just sarcasm
    That's why we bite so hard and never bark at em
    Spark at em's insane
    It's play gather and prey
    When even the mighty tiger
    He desires to be tamed
    I'm stuck freedome lasso
    They act as if it's positive
    Though it's so obviously derogative
    And even if you're bobby
    This is never your prerogative
    It's obvious we're warriors
    And crooked just like bobby is
    But colleges and mockeries
    Will never make a socrates
    Apologies and robberies
    They follow with atrocity
    Sorrow and hypocrisy
    Don't make very good crockery
    Watchin' this it's horror bliss
    And one day I will promise this
    The day the tiger wakes




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