The Reluctant Anchor
(Originally published in Tampa Bay Life in 1991)
By Bob Andelman
Call her the reluctant anchor.
She's knock-down beautiful, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed stunner,
the kind of woman the television camera loves and the home viewing
audience can't seem to resist. But being a talking head on the
evening news is about the last thing on earth Kelly Ring ever
envisioned for herself.
Tonight at 6 and 11 p.m. she may seem oh, so natural sitting
besides co-anchor Frank Robertson, questioning reporters in the
field, chatting up the weather with Roy or sports with Andy.
But behind those twinkling baby blues, a simple mantra is being
repeated over and over again.
"I am a reporter. ... I am a reporter. ... I am a
Before being arm-twisted into an early morning news anchor
seat at WTVT Ch. 13 a few years ago, Kelly Ring was a no-nonsense
reporter from the highly respected University of Missouri School
of Journalism with a special talent for tapping into Tampa Bay's
most heartbreaking stories.
She and cameraman Brad Wasson were an inseparable team for
years, winning two Emmys in 1989 for "The Tarnished Years,"
a series and documentary about mistreatment of the elderly. They
spent three months with an Health and Rehabilitative Services
(HRS) investigator, investigating abuse in nursing homes. (Ring
won a third Emmy that year for a collection of stories.)
"You don't find individuals that look the way Kelly does
that possess the reportorial skills that she does," says
Bob Franklin, vice president of news and operations at WTVT.
Over the years, Ring and Wasson developed a special relationship
with Clifford and Louise Ray, parents of three hemophiliac boys
who were accidentally given AIDS-tainted blood transplants.
"That was the first big story I did here," recalls
Ring. "When it started in '86, people didn't realize what
would come of it. We followed it through."
Wasson was Ring's partner on virtually every story about the
Rays from 1986-89. "We used to leave for Arcadia as soon
as she finished the morning newscast," he recalls. "I
got in the habit of bringing an extra pillow so she could conk
out on the way there. It was a two-hour drive and she was already
putting in 12- to 14-hour days.
"It was an intensely depressing experience," says
Wasson. "We were there practically every day for months.
I know she, on several occasions, sent gifts for the kids. It
affected her quite a bit, the unfairness of AIDS, the way they
got the disease through misfortune. Three innocent kids."
The Rays developed a personal relationship with Ring that
continues today even though other Ch. 13 reporters may cover
the story of their struggles and heartache on a day-to-day basis.
"When she first started reporting on us," recalls
Louise Ray, "the media was the only friend we had. We got
real close to Kelly. She was real people. And when she reported,
she did her job. When she left you didn't feel raped. Some reporters
leave you feeling that way. She's not only out to get the facts
and get the story. She cared. And that makes a difference. My
kids love her. She always had time to spend with them off-camera."
Wasson says his former partner's ability to project genuine
sincerity is what makes her so successful in the field.
"She doesn't have that practiced, polished smoothness;
I think that's a strength," he says. "We would go into
a situation and I would be convinced we weren't going to get
squat. But in minutes, people would spill their guts to her.
She has the ability to get people to open up. Kelly projects
a sense of vulnerability that makes people want to be nice to
o o o
The evening anchor's day at WTVT begins with the 2 p.m. news
meeting and continues on through midnight.
Such hours don't allow the flexibility Ring came to enjoy
as a morning anchor; no longer can she chase stories all day.
So when Ring replaced Kelly Craig on the evening news on April
2, 1990, she had to learn to pick and choose her spots more carefully.
Saudi Arabia was as good a place to test Ring's reporter-over-anchor
state of mind as anywhere. She was the only woman last December
on a 48-hour, pre-Desert Storm press junket from the Tampa Bay
The flight aboard the C-130 military transport plane was long
and arduous. Each member of the press was given a gas mask and
a handbook on the Persian Gulf region. "The military said
make sure you understand this. There's so many cultural differences.
You better know what you can and can't do -- especially you,
Kelly," she recalls.
In Riyadh she saw the "human" side of life in the
Middle East -- a woman was stoned for adultery in Judgement Square
at high noon. She interviewed Gen. Norman Schwartzkopf before
he became "Stormin' Norman." She talked to troops from
the bay area and brought back pictures of them for their families.
She saw Patriot missile batteries where bored soldiers passed
the days by playing cards. Saudi kids who had probably never
seen hair so blonde pointed and stared. She was tossed out of
a store by the proprietor because her head was uncovered.
She didn't sleep for the entire two days, eager to take in
every sight, every experience that was available.
"TV news people have that reputation of being more worried
about their hair than the story," says Paul Wilborn, who
represented the Tampa Tribune on the junket. "But Kelly
threw herself in. She worked hard in Saudi. I think she's working
to develop her journalism skills to match her anchor role. She
tried to soak up as much as she could. She actually perspired."
Within 24 hours of her return, WTVT aired a one-hour special
based on the sights, sounds and impressions of her trip. "It
was the best assignment I ever had," says Ring. "I'm
going to go back there on my own some day."
o o o
Frank Robertson says his new co-anchor on WTVT's "Eyewitness
News" made a smooth transition from reporter to anchor because
of her journalism skills.
"She brings a lot to the table," according to Robertson.
"People saw her reporting every day for four years before
she became an anchor. She grew into the position and is growing
in the position, as well. The acceptance of her in the market
Off-air, the co-anchors sit side-by-side at a computer pod
in the front of the newsroom, writing and timing introductions
to the stories that will appear on the nightly news. They also
compose questions to be asked of correspondents at the beginning
and end of their stories.
Atmosphere around the newsroom is light, jocular. Ring and
Robertson have a visibly warm relationship, whether it's discussing
stories or mutual plans to play golf or double-date for dinner.
There is a good deal of joking and laughter around these two
and producer John Hoffman (Kelly is continuously fixing him up
with blind dates) as the afternoon wears on and the big broadcast
"Frank has become someone I respect enormously. But he
is also someone I can tell anything to," says Ring. "He's
a great friend."
On the set, anything can happen. A minute to air, Ring holds
up a hand mirror and touches up her hair. Once the theme music
rolls, the anchors put on their game faces and begin. Cameramen
wad up pieces of paper and shoot baskets at a trash can. While
Roy Leep does the weather, Kelly and Frank talk to Andy. The
guys in the soundproof production studio send Kelly kisses over
Ring and Robertson never roll their eyes over some insipid,
off-the-cuff remark one or the other might make, unlike John
Wilson does in reaction to Sheryl Browne at Ch. 10 or Gayle Sierens
does in deflecting Bob Hite at Ch. 8.
Well, almost never.
One day Kelly spent the afternoon showing someone's 10-year-old
child around the newsroom. Then WTVT President Clarence McKee
brought in a group from the United Way to say hello. "My
attention was everywhere but on the copy. I didn't have time
to look it over," she says. During the 5 o'clock news, anchors
Kathy Fountain and Denise White turned to Frank and Kelly in
the newsroom to ask what stories were coming up at 6. That's
when it happened.
"I said 'orgasm' over the air instead of organism,"
recalls Ring, blushing. "It was the most horrifying moment
of my life. It was awful. I thought I was going to faint. Luckily,
Frank didn't laugh. I threw it back to Kathy and she didn't laugh.
When we went to commercial, the place erupted.
"Don't ask me how I came up with orgasm," she says.
"I still have nightmares about that day. It made every blooper
o o o
It isn't easy to maintain eye contact with Kelly Ring. As
beautiful as those steely blue eyes are, a man can't help but
take in all of her. She dresses like a vibrant young woman, unafraid
of high heels, short skirts, plunging necklines. There's no forgetting
this 30-year-old is at the height of her powers and appeal.
"Great eyes," says her friend Rick Nafe, who is
director of Tampa Stadium. "You could get lost in those
"She's a doll," says Fred Doremus, another pal.
"She's got that million-dollar smile."
Over grilled chicken sandwiches at Jimmy Mac's in Tampa, it's
apparent to everyone but Kelly what a sensation she creates by
simply entering the dining room. She's oblivious to the stares
-- from men and women alike -- but people can't seem to contain
their impulse to study and admire her.
"I'm pretty conservative," she says, although Kelly
Ring in a burlap sack might be considered sexy to some. "I'm
still young. I can still dress young. I don't think there's anything
wrong with dressing the way you want. But I always dress like
a lady. I'm representing the station wherever I go. I always
want to give a good image. I'm never going to go out looking
o o o
Kelly Ring's mother dated Elvis for a year.
No, it's not some fantastic National Enquirer headline, it's
The former Bonnie Brown is a country singer whose early career
development with her siblings in The Browns paralleled Presley's.
They met as unknowns in 1955 when both were on the Louisiana
Hayride in Shrevesport, at the threshold of their careers. The
pair -- Bonnie was 16, Elvis, 19 -- were steadies for an entire
"Elvis was a real sweet person," says Bonnie. "But
he liked to eat peanut butter and plain tomato sandwiches. That
was weird to me."
By the time they broke up, The Browns signed with RCA Victor
for the first of 13 record albums. They garnered three gold records
and three Grammy nominations. In fact, they were nominated for
best performance on a religious album in 1958 and lost out --
Bonnie Brown met Dr. Gene Ring not long after her affair with
Elvis. They settled in tiny Dardanelle, Arkansas -- pop. 4,000
-- a village tucked in the side of the Ozark Mountains, where
John Wayne later filmed "True Grit" and Dr. Ring set
up a general practice. Bonnie gave up full-time singing and touring
to raise Kelly and her sister Robin.
Kelly was apparently more impressed by her daddy's medical
office as a child than with her mother's famous country music
"I love to tell this story," says Mrs. Ring. "In
a doctor's clinic, you always have pictures of the human body.
That's how Kelly found out there was a difference between males
and females. One day I found she was taking her little friends
through the back door of the clinic and charging admission to
show them pictures of the male body."
Mrs. Ring remembers her eldest daughter as very inquisitive.
"She was always asking questions. I should have known she
was going to be a reporter. She had to know about everything."
If Kelly is considered a beauty today, she and her mother
agree it wasn't always that way. She was a tomboy for years,
envying the boys and their toy guns and boots, playing catcher
on a softball team.
Kelly stood out in high school. Editor of the yearbook. Majorette.
("I'd never be a cheerleader. I couldn't jump up and down
like that.") Voted most likely to succeed. Class president.
"I could have stayed in my hometown and lived happily
ever after," she says. "But I knew it would never happen.
I had all these aspirations. By the tenth grade I knew I wanted
to be a reporter and I wouldn't let anything mess it up. I was
on a mission, if you want to call it that."
o o o
Dante Palmieri is the make-up wizard of Channel 13. He tends
to all the station's stars -- Ring, Robertson, Kathy Fountain,
Denise White, Alan Wendt and Leslie Spencer.
"It's kind of a luxury," says Ring, who needs Palmieri's
guidance. "I'd never been told how to wear make-up. My mother
used to say to me, 'You need to go to a department store and
get help with your make-up.' But it was not something I had high
on my priority list."
A former make-up director at Lincoln Center, Palmieri retired
to the Tampa Bay area a few years ago. While watching Ch. 13
one night, he became so upset with the anchors' poor use of make-up
he called the station and offered his services. "The shading
of their faces was so bad," he says. "I couldn't believe
what I was seeing. Everybody looked washed-out.
"When they introduced me to Kelly Ring," says Palmieri,
"I said, 'Geez, if they're all like this, it's easy.' The
only other person as beautiful I have had to work with was Brooke
"I don't think I'm in her league," says Ring, more
than a little embarrassed.
Palmieri ignores her.
"This girl has a sensational face," he insists.
"And you know what's even better? Her heart. She's got a
o o o
Visiting local schools to read aloud or give motivational
speeches is almost a weekly part of Ring's life. Even the youngest
students recognize her from TV and pay rapt attention.
Last winter, Ring received a most unusual call from a teacher
at Sandy Lane Elementary School in Clearwater. Her own fifth
grade teacher from Dardanelle, Ak., Jane Dukes, was now a teacher
in Clearwater. Would Kelly come speak to her school? Of course.
Walking down the hall of Sandy Lane with principal Frank Garcia,
Ring is the object of much affection and many a startled gaze
from students and teachers alike. One little boy, in fact, steps
in front of her, points, and says to his friend, "That's
Ring laughs. Men! Boys! They can't tell one blonde TV anchor
During two assemblies, Principal Frank Garcia carefully recites
the connection between Ring and Dukes, adding that Kelly's father
delivered Dukes' first son back in Dardenelle. This elicits a
chorus of "oohs" and "ahhs."
When it is her turn to speak, Ring steps down from the stage
and into the crush of schoolchildren sitting cross-legged on
the floor. "When I was your age," she tells them, "I
started writing in school. I loved writing stories. I was terrible
in math, but I loved English. One teacher told me I was a very
good writer. And she encouraged me. She made me feel I could
do anything I wanted to in the world. My goal was to be a reporter."
The kids hang on her every word.
"If you want to explore the ocean, you must have the
courage to lose sight of the shore," Ring says. "You
know what I think that means? When you have dreams, you have
to put your mind to what you want to do and just go for it. Just
A cynic would say it all comes together there: the blonde
TV anchor quoting the tag line from a TV commercial. And as the
videogenic personality finishes, the kids burst not into applause
but a rhythmic "whoo, whoo, whoo" -- mimicking the
audiences on Arsenio Hall's late night talk show.
After the assembly, kids line up shyly to shake Ring's hand.
She smiles and says "Hello" to each one. Many of the
little girls, instead of shaking her hand, encircle Ring's waist
with their little arms in an emotional hug.
Diane Sawyer would be envious.
o o o
"Hey, Kelly!" somebody says, "How about giving
Ernie Lee a hug before he goes?"
It is the countrified gentlemen and early morning television
host's last day at Channel 13 after 33 years on the "Breakfast
Beat." The staff party is wrapping up and Ring walks over
to pay her respects to her former partner on the early show.
"Are you a-courtin'?" Lee asks.
Ring laughs, not sure if the old guy is making a pass or just
"I have a very good friend," she says. "His
name is Tom."
Tom Zucco, that is, a features writer at the St. Petersburg
Times. The pair met a few years ago, during the videotaping of
the "Join the Team" music video for baseball season
tickets, and have become inseparable. At the time, Ring was seeing
WYNF morning man Ron Diaz, a buddy of Zucco's.
"That's when the sparks started to fly," according
to Diaz, who says he's still friends with both Ring and Zucco.
"Zucco's put a lot of bounce in her step. She really
seems happy," says Fred Doremus, former Tampa Bay Bucs marketing
director and current director of administration for the Orlando
Ma and Pa Ring probably hope Zucco is the one. All of Kelly's
peers back home in Dardanelle are married and making babies.
Not Kelly. "I have two daughters and every time they call
home, I say 'tick-tock, tick-tock,'" admits Mrs. Ring.
"Every time I go home, they bring it up," Kelly
confirms. "And that's putting it lightly."
o o o
"I am a reporter ... I am a reporter ... I am a ...
When Bob Franklin came to Ch. 13, Kelly Ring was a weekend
anchor and weekday reporter. He pushed her into the morning slot
and then the 5 o'clock position. And when Kelly Craig took a
job in Miami, he guided her into the 6 and 11 o'clock shows.
Franklin risked a lot on Ring but never looked back.
"She's not only an excellent anchor and an attractive
person, she's a remarkable reporter," says Franklin. "We
require our anchors to write and report -- to be journalists.
We have no readers here. I daresay anchoring is something we
encouraged her to do but it was not paramount in her mind. Kelly,
first and foremost, is a reporter. Who happens to be gorgeous."
The bottom line has been improved by Ring's anchor presence.
Ratings are up since she filled the co-anchor's job opposite
Frank Robertson. The public seems to like the new team; "Eyewitness
News" has risen from second in the market to first.
All that's well and good for Ring. She's popular, instantly
recognizable wherever she goes and drives a nice car. But it
all means nothing if she loses the ability to get out in the
field once in a while and put in an honest day's work as a reporter.
"I came to 13 as a reporter. I had no desire to be an
anchor," reiterates Ring. "I'm still not totally confident
with it. The best days I have are when I go out and do stories
and then come in and anchor the news. I went to a very strict
journalism school, the University of Missouri. My professor said,
'Don't be an anchor until you're the best reporter you can be.
Don't let the idea of stardom or being on TV every night get
to you. You're here to be a journalist.'
"I think most people could care less who I am,"
she says. "If they have a good story that needs to be told,
I'm just another reporter. That's the way I want it to be."
Things You Didn't Realize
You Wanted to Know About Kelly Ring:
* She has an autographed picture of the anchor of the CBS
Evening News on her desk. It reads: "Kelly, Courage -- Dan
* She has a kitten named "Peg Bundy."
* She can't cook.
* She calls everyone "honey." Another favorite expression:
"Oh, QUIT it!"
* Her favorite foods are cornbread, navy beans and caramel
* She runs 5 to 6 miles per daily and can run a 10-minute
* She loves to waterski.
* She attended Louisiana State University for two years but
graduated from the University of Missouri.
* Her best friend is Tampa attorney Kim Merlin.
* She loves to dress up for Guavaween, Ybor City's bizarre
annual Halloween party. Last year she wore a black abaya and
went as one of Saddam Hussein's wives. Her date, Tom Zucco, was
a flasher. One year she went disguised as Dolly Parton.
* Her bedroom back home in Dardanelle is lavender. It's still
full of her dolls, stuffed animals, books and awards because
her mother hopes to show it off to grandchildren one day (if
Kelly ever takes the hint).
* Roy, Frances and Scud Leep live upstairs from Kelly.
Her Friends Speak Out
"She's real down-to-earth, warm, kind.
There's nothing phony about her. She's even nicer in person than
she is on television. ... Other than the fact that she ripped
out my heart and handed it to me while it was still beating,
she's a great girl." -- Ron Diaz, WYNF 95 FM morning
disk jockey and former boyfriend
"We loved her, damn it. It crushed us when she and
Ronnie broke up. But I could understand her reasons. She was
a rose between two thorns." -- Ron Bennington, Diaz's
partner at WYNF
"The greatest difference between Kelly and her mom
is her mom sings like an angel and Kelly can't sing to save her
life." -- Philip Metlin, former WTVT executive news
"Last year when there was a baseball strike and spring
training was shortened, Kelly got confused about how many games
there were in a season vs. during spring training. She wanted
to know how they were going to get 162 games into two weeks."
-- Frank Robertson, co-anchor of Ch. 13's "Eyewitness News"
"We met in '85 at Tampa Stadium a few days before
Rod Stewart gave the stadium's first outdoor concert in years.
She interviewed me for three hours that day. I was amazed at
how in-depth her questions were. And how pissed off she was when
she learned I wasn't Rod Stewart. I knew she was from Arkansas
-- I knew I could fool her for a little while -- but not three
hours' worth." -- Rick Nafe, director of Tampa Stadium
"She was 'Miss Yell County' in high school, but she
won't admit it." -- Fred Doremus, former Tampa Bay Buccaneers
"When she first started to work at 13, she found out
I'm one of the few people in the civilized world who knows the
words to the 'Green Acres' theme. When we'd be in the car, going
to cover a story, she used to love to hear me sing 'Green Acres'
while she clapped along." -- Brad Wasson, former Ch.
"We were at the Fountainebleu Hotel in Miami Beach
the night 'The Tarnished Years' won three Emmys. When they announced
we won the first Emmy, she let out a squeal of sheer delight.
She had a grin on her face that could light up a room."
-- Wasson, again
"We were going to the Super Bowl in Tampa and a soldier
told her how much he appreciated the story she did on Saudi Arabia.
That's when those big ol' blue eyes lit up. She appreciates when
someone compliments her on a story. Not on how pretty she is."
-- Bonnie Ring, Kelly's mom
For a celebrity roast of Kelly Ring sponsored by The Centre
for Women in Hyde Park last October, Tampa Tribune reporter and
cabaret performer Paul Wilborn wrote a song he calls "Watchin'
Kelly." It's sung to the tune of "Makin' Whoopee."
I've got something, I must confess.
I've got to get this off my chest.
I'm a banker, in love with an anchor.
Her name is Kelly.
Car wrecks and murders, give me the blues.
Still I am glued to the evening news.
Six and eleven, I'm in heaven.
I'm watchin' Kelly.
Gayle Sierens used to drive me wild.
But lately she's become, well, motherly.
And that other Kelly, oh that little kewpie doll,
she did nothing for me ...
Kelly's blond hair falls, to her shoulder pads.
Her mouth says, 'I'm good.'
Her eyes say, 'I'm bad.'
I'd rob my own bank, if I could just be Frank,
sittin' next to Kelly.
I have a little dream that I dream,
that I'm somehow newsworthy.
The live truck is in my driveway.
At my front porch stands Kelly.
She comes inside and asks me all her questions and I do my
best to give her some good sound bites. When she's finished,
she asks if I have anything to add and I say, 'Oh, yes' and I
tell her everything. She blushes and looks to her right, as if
she wants to hand this story over to Frank, but Frank's not there.
When she looks back, her eyes are flashing, like the lights of
downtown when they put that twinkle filter over the lens. And
Kelly begins to slide ... slowly ... slowly ... across the couch
toward me ...
She tells the photographer to take a hike.
She puts down her microphone and says, 'You, I like.'
We go to heaven. Film at eleven.
Of me and Kelly ...
Then I wake up. It's all a dream.
Kelly's up there on my TV screen.
You can't go to bed with a talking head
whose name is Kelly ...
Some men worry about the girl of their dreams leaving them
for another man. I worry mine will leave me for another market.
Kelly, don't go baby, you mean more to me than the news itself
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express written permission of the author.
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