Tim: What Fifty Years of Broadcasting Looks Like on a Sunday Morning

Dear Tim,

Sunday morning at North Naples Church, you said five words that changed my week:

"I worked for PBS for 30 years." — Tim, February 8, 10:52 AM

I need to tell you why those five words mattered so much. And then I need to ask you something.

What I Saw

When I told you what I was building, you didn't explain it to me. You said:

"I'm not going to talk to you, I'm going to show you." — Tim, 10:52 AM

And you did. You let me into the production room and I watched you work.

Three full-size server racks. Seven cameras. ATEM switchers. A voice intercom back channel. Simultaneous Facebook and Vimeo streams. And you, directing it all - calling camera operators by name, cueing lights, cueing sound, shaping how hundreds of people experienced worship.

"Susan. 6 and 7, thank you, Susan." "Nick. 4 and 5, Nick. Thank you." — Tim directing cameras, 11:11 AM

You weren't just capturing what happened on stage. You were creating the frame through which people encountered the service. That's directing. That's craft. That's fifty years of experience in a room full of volunteers who don't even know they're learning from one of the best.

Who You Are

You understated it. "Thirty years at PBS." I looked you up.

WPTV in West Palm Beach in the 1970s - producer, director, camera, talent. All at once, because that's how it worked at a small station. Then CNN in the early '80s, when cable news was brand new. Then Detroit Public TV - not for thirty years, Tim. For forty. Directing, producing, making shows like Take a Load Off Your Heart and Ask Dr. Nandi.

And now you're here. In Naples. Doing it at a church. Teaching volunteers the same craft you've been practicing since before I was born.

The lineage isn't dead. It's alive in your production room.

What I Carry

I carry a printed copy of Fred Rogers' 1969 Congressional testimony. The one where he defended funding for public broadcasting. Where he sang to the Senate about what you do with the mad that you feel.

When PBS got defunded in 2025, I thought that lineage was lost. I was depressed about it. I couldn't see how to connect what Fred Rogers built to what we need in 2026.

And then I met you.

pbs.coop

Here's what I've been thinking about.

In 1969, Fred Rogers defended funding for the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. I run ii.coop - a Cooperation for Public Broadcasting. Not a corporation. A cooperation. Two I's next to each other.

I checked yesterday. The domain pbs.coop is available. I haven't registered it yet.

Not a corporation that makes TV programs - a cooperation of the people who are public broadcasting. The humans who carried the mission for 30, 40, 50 years and are still carrying it in churches and schools and community centers across the country.

PBS got defunded. But you didn't get defunded. You're still directing. Still teaching. Still holding space.

I want to find the people like you and ask them one question: Who are you?

Record the conversation. Transcribe it. Pass it forward. That's what I do - I wear microphones all day, I use AI to create journals of the people I meet, and I turn those conversations into something my kids and their kids can learn from.

Tim, would you like to be the first?

And who else should I talk to?

I'm visiting the school next door tomorrow (Monday) at 11 AM. Could we meet before or after?

Email: hh@ii.coop Phone: 806-543-2100 Website:https://ii.coop

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Love, Chris (hh)

My name is Chris McClimans. My wife Shalom and I travel full-time in an RV with our two sons, Asher (13) and Benjamin (10).