Down the Street: Ballad of a Long-Distance Daughter
THE FXBG ADVANCE SUNDAY 8/16/26 MIDDAY READ
By Claire Marshall Watkins, ADVANCE CONTRIBUTOR
When I attended the University of Mary Washington, I hosted a weekly radio show called Down the Street on the college station, WMWC. I had a prime slot—5-6 p.m. every Friday. I planned my broadcasts meticulously, so much so that I made sure the first song I ever played was the same as the last I ever played: “Truckin’” by the Grateful Dead.
Originally, I wanted to call my radio show Hot Donna after Donna Pinciotti’s radio persona in That 70’s Show, but I figured that may be copyrighted, and I didn’t want to test my luck. My best friend, Harper, showed me That 70’s Show for the first time when we were 14, and in the 10 years since, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched the series.
I was always intrigued by radio, so when the show introduced Donna’s radio plotline, I latched onto it with a sense of yearning. If a fictional teenager from Wisconsin could have a radio show, certainly I, a weird girl from Virginia, could have one, too.
I riffed on the idea for a week or so and decided to call my show Down the Street instead. It was still a nod to That 70’s Show, but a little less niche of a name. Copyright worries aside, That 70’s Show hadn’t been mainstream for over a decade when my show aired, and I doubted many people would understand the reference to Hot Donna. But Down the Street could make sense. Although I only lived 10 minutes from campus, I was still technically a commuter student. I lived down the street.
In the two weeks between learning I had been selected for a show on WMWC and my first broadcast, I filled pages in my journal trying to come up with the perfect lineup of songs. I wanted my first broadcast to be an introduction to me and my music taste. After that first Friday, I fell into a total groove.
Every week, I came up with a theme and built my show around it. I balanced each episode with music and commentary (ask me about my recurring theme of songs and their samples!). A few of my favorites were episodes I called “The Musical Evolution of Erykah Badu,” “The Essence of Nineteen,” and “Pub Classics.” For a college radio show at a university with fewer than 4,000 students, Down the Street had pretty good numbers. I got a couple hundred listeners on average each week, which included a few friends in other countries.
After my first semester on the radio, I made an Instagram account for the show to keep up with it during breaks when the station was closed. On those Fridays, I designed and posted a graphic with five songs for whatever theme I came up with that week. Of those posts, my favorite was songs to listen to on a long flight. Every song on that list was at least seven minutes long.
I loved broadcasting on WMWC. Every week, I had a designated time period to be one with the music I loved, and to share what I knew about it with anyone who listened.
I’ve been feeling homesick again lately, and I can’t just drive down the street to cure it. I live across an ocean from my family and many of my friends. I’m happy where I am, but as it heats up here in London, I can’t help but yearn for Virginia in the summertime. The Rappahannock River, my sister’s Memorial Day and Fourth of July cookouts, the Fredericksburg Farmers’ Market and College Heights Pool are all a world away now.
I’ve been making a lot of sun tea and tomato sandwiches and listening to the music my parents played for us as kids to try and cure my homesickness, but it lingers still like a white streak of sunscreen that I can’t quite rub in.
As it goes, I’ve compiled another list of five songs. The theme: Long-distance daughter.
***
Claire Marshall Watkins is an alumna of the University of Mary Washington, currently pursuing her master’s in journalism at Goldsmiths, University of London. You can read more of her writing on her substack, Virginia Magnolia.





Yes, radio is fun, Claire. I hosted a weekly evening jazz program on a college radio station in the early 1960’s. In those days we played the music on something called “records.” My shift also included reading the 9:00 news from rolls of yellow paper disgorged from something called a “teletype machine” that made so much noise—clickity-clack ding-ding—that it had to be shut up in the closet of an office down the hall, far from the broadcast studio.