Fifty years ago, Detroit made television history. On September 29, 1975, WGPR-TV 62 flickered onto the airwaves, introducing viewers to the first television station in the United States to be owned and operated by African Americans.
It was a statement of independence, innovation, and inclusion, made in a moment when most major stations in the country still showed little interest in hiring, promoting, or even training Black journalists and broadcasters.
Under the leadership of Dr. William V. Banks, a visionary minister, attorney, and entrepreneur, WGPR (“Where God’s Presence Radiates”) became far more than a television station. It was a training ground — a proving space where hundreds of Black anchors, producers, engineers, and camera operators learned the business of television from the inside out. For many, it was their first opportunity to work in front of or behind the camera. For Detroit, it was a point of deep pride.
Earlier this month, the WGPR-TV Historical Society celebrated that legacy with a 50th anniversary commemorative dinner, honoring the pioneers who built the station and the generations it inspired. The dinner featured Detroit Pistons Hall of Famer Isiah Thomas as keynote speaker, along with ESPN executive David Roberts, who began his broadcasting career at WGPR before rising to become one of the most influential figures in national sports media. Former NFL MVP Cam Newton and former NBA player and ESPN analyst Kendrick Perkins attended.
“WGPR wasn’t just a station, it was a movement,” said Joe Spencer, one of the station’s original producers and now president of the WGPR-TV Historical Society. “It created opportunity when there was none. It showed the nation what Black excellence in media looks like.”
When it first launched, WGPR-TV 62 stood out for more than its ownership. It was technologically ahead of its time. While most Detroit stations were still relying on film for field reporting, WGPR was the first in the city to use portable video cameras, allowing its reporters to cover breaking stories faster and more efficiently. It was also the city’s first 24-hour broadcaster, a remarkable feat for a station that had no network backing and operated independently in a competitive market.
Equally revolutionary was its programming. More than half of WGPR’s shows were produced locally — a rarity in the 1970s, when most stations filled their schedules with syndicated network content. Detroiters tuned in for “The Scene,” a music and dance show that showcased local talent and rivaled national programs like “Soul Train.” They watched “Big City News,” which covered stories other outlets ignored. They found church programs, talk shows, community spotlights, and cultural forums that reflected the city’s Black identity with authenticity and pride.
“WGPR gave us our image back,” Spencer said. “For the first time, we saw ourselves not as a news story or a stereotype, but as professionals, as creators, as a community.”
In the years that followed, WGPR became a hub for political and cultural leaders. Local officials, national civil rights figures, and visiting celebrities alike made appearances in its Jefferson Avenue studios. It was a station run by Detroiters for Detroiters — a place where the city’s stories were told on its own terms.
The station’s influence can still be felt across the media landscape today. Alumni of WGPR have gone on to anchor national news desks, lead broadcast divisions, and produce content for networks like CBS, CNN, and ESPN. Among them is David Roberts, who now serves as Head of Event & Studio Production for ESPN, overseeing coverage across sports including the NBA and NFL. “My time at WGPR was foundational,” Roberts has often said in interviews. “It was the place that taught me not just the craft, but the mission — that representation matters, and that our stories deserve to be told with integrity.”
But WGPR’s story is also one of resilience. In 1995, after two decades on the air, the station was sold to CBS, which converted it into a network affiliate and ended its era as a Black-owned broadcaster. For many in Detroit’s media community, the sale marked the end of a golden age. Yet even after the cameras stopped rolling, the alumni of WGPR refused to let its history fade.
In 2011, Spencer and a group of former staffers established the WGPR-TV Historical Society to preserve the legacy of Dr. Banks and the trailblazers who built the station. Their efforts culminated in the opening of the William V. Banks Broadcast Museum and Media Center in 2017, located in WGPR’s original Jefferson Avenue studio. The museum, which operates entirely through volunteers, chronicles the rise of Black media in Detroit and celebrates the individuals who helped shape it. In 2021, it earned designation as a National Historic Site — formal recognition of its role in reshaping American broadcasting.
At a time when many cultural institutions struggle to keep their doors open, the museum remains a labor of love. “We don’t have a large endowment or paid staff,” Spencer said. “We have passion. We have a story worth telling, and we’re not going to let that story die.”
For the station’s alumni, the 50th anniversary was a reminder of what’s possible when ownership meets purpose. WGPR emerged in an era when Detroit was both thriving culturally and struggling economically, a city defined by innovation but still shadowed by racial barriers. To start a Black-owned television station in 1975 — to hire, train, and produce at a professional level — required vision, courage, and the belief that Detroit’s Black community could build something the industry said was impossible.
Dr. Banks had that belief. His background as an attorney and founder of the International Free and Accepted Modern Masons gave him both the resources and the resolve to bring WGPR to life. He surrounded himself with local talent — young Detroiters hungry to learn television from the ground up — and gave them space to experiment.
“Dr. Banks believed in ownership,” Spencer said. “He believed that if you don’t own the message, someone else will tell your story for you. WGPR was our chance to tell it ourselves.”
That idea still resonates, especially at a time when Black ownership in media has declined nationally. Fewer than a dozen broadcast stations in the country today are Black-owned — a stark contrast to the progress WGPR symbolized half a century ago.
The celebration was as much about the future as it was about the past. The event honored the station’s pioneers, but it also challenged the next generation of storytellers to carry the torch forward and to think about what ownership and access means in the digital era, and how Detroit can remain a leader in creating spaces where Black media thrives.
“WGPR opened the door for us,” Spencer said. “Now it’s on us to keep it open.”
For those who were there in 1975 and for those who’ve followed in their footsteps, the celebration was a homecoming and a recognition that WGPR’s story isn’t over. The call letters may have changed, but its signal still carries through every Black-owned media outlet, every newsroom committed to representation, and every young Detroiter who picks up a camera to tell their own story.
