Wisconsin farm boy at heart

RALEIGH, N.C. — For more than 20 years, Max Armstrong’s desk was within 10 feet of the desk of agriculture broadcaster Orion Samuelson. Samuelson, who hired Armstrong in 1977, quickly became his mentor, business partner and close friend over the course of 46 years spent bringing the agriculture community together.

“You learn a lot by osmosis,” Armstrong said. “It was always just the two of us; one of us was always in Chicago. So in the years when Orion was speaking at more than 100 engagements a year, I was usually back in Chicago. It was a tremendous opportunity to be on the radio, every hour of every day on one of the highest-rated stations in Chicago. We had a wonderful run, for sure.”

Samuelson passed away March 16 at the age of 91 at his home in Huntley, Illinois.

Hailing from a small family farm near Ontario, Wisconsin, Samuelson graduated from broadcast school in Minneapolis in 1952.

Samuelson launched his on-air career at WKLJ in Sparta, Wisconsin, before moving on to Appleton, where he served as farm director at WBAY in Green Bay. In 1960, Samuelson was hired to be the farm service director at WGN — where he would remain for 63 years, before he and Armstrong retired in 2023.

“We worked a lot,” Armstrong said. “Orion had a tremendous work ethic and he told me we’d be like farmers — we’d start early and work until the job was done. That’s how we operated.”

The pair did as many as 192 broadcasts per week.

Samuelson was passionate about the futures markets, covering them long before his colleagues considered them, Armstrong said.

“Many traders listened to us in those days,” Armstrong said. “There were lots of local traders who lived in the Chicago area. They would listen to us on the radio before they’d get on the trains or in their downtown offices.”

A pioneer of farm broadcasting, Armstrong described Samuelson as the original “agvocate.”

“Orion was advocating for the industry decades before the term ‘agvocate’ was coined,” Armstrong said. “He was doing that in the 1960s on the radio and television in Chicago, explaining to non-farmers why farmers do what they do, forever trying to refute misinformation.”

While Samuelson was passionate about agriculture in general, Armstrong said the dairy industry held special meaning.

“Orion loved the dairy industry and was vociferous in defending it against those spreading erroneous information about milk, dairy products and their nutritional value,” Armstrong said. “That started back in the margarine era. He was forever bitter about that. He lived long enough to see the pendulum swing.”

Samuelson’s character made him seem larger-than-life, Armstrong said.

“Everybody in that building loved and respected Orion,” Armstrong said. “There were about 400 radio and television employees, with seven unions in the building. It was very much a union shop, and Orion impressed upon me, my first day, how we needed to have them on our side. And they were on Orion’s side; they loved that Wisconsin farm boy so much.”

Samuelson’s popularity did not stop at the doors of the studio. He was appreciated by members of the agricultural community far and wide, Armstrong said.

“Orion had a tremendous speaking career — I always said he was at the podium more than the glass of water,” Armstrong said. “I think he spoke to every group in North and South Dakota. I used to say he could run for Congress in North Dakota and phone-in the campaign, he was so popular there.”

Throughout the majority of his career, Samuelson kept himself removed from politics, although once he nearly became involved.

“The summer of 2004 is unforgettable in my life,” Armstrong said. “Late that spring Orion contracted a flesh-eating bacteria in his throat — they didn’t know where it came from, he hadn’t been out of the country. He was rushed to a Chicago hospital, where he was told they needed to operate.”

Samuelson balked, expressing concern for his voice — the greatest tool of his trade.

“The surgeon put a finger on his chest and said, ‘To make a living, you have to be alive,’” Armstrong said. “They did the surgery and didn’t touch his vocal cords. He spent 15 days in intensive care and 30 days in the hospital. He was away from work for 72 days — it was a long summer in Max Armstrong’s life.”

As he recuperated, politics came calling.

“The Republicans in Illinois were looking for someone to run for the U.S. Senate from Illinois,” Armstrong said. “Speaker of the U.S. House Dennis Hastert called him and asked him to run. He seriously considered it, but his wife, Gloria, and his doctor intervened, telling him he needed to recover from his life-threatening experience. … I’m not sure Orion would have been a good candidate — he cared too much about people, he wanted to help people.”

The appreciation people had for Samuelson extended beyond the borders of the U.S., Armstrong said.

“In the early 1990s I was invited to speak in western Canada, in Winnipeg,” Armstrong said. “They had just started putting U.S. customs agents in some of the biggest Canadian airports, so you could clear customs there and come into the domestic side of O’Hare or Minneapolis. Catching my flight home, I got to the customs agent, who looked at my driver’s license, (and) with no hint of recognition whatsoever, he said, ‘Sir, you need to come with me.’ I followed him into this room, and I wondered what was going on. Then it got worse — he summoned the two other agents, who effectively shut down their lines. When we got to the room, they shut the door and started laughing, and said, ‘We have to know, what’s Orion really like?’ By the time we left that room, I had a list of names and addresses for 10 relatives to send autographed pictures of Orion to.”

Personal communication was important to Samuelson, who signed and sent those photos, Armstrong said. He said Samuelson was a believer in taking the time to send handwritten correspondence to those he connected with. Armstrong said that was a habit he adopted as well.

“People have asked me over the years if it wasn’t tough being Orion’s shadow all those years,” Armstrong said. “I never saw it that way. I benefited mightily from being his partner and helping him along the way. He taught me so much early in my career, and I never quit learning from him.”