Kurtenbach: An infamous legacy in Lincoln

Chances are you've already met Ron Kurtenbach. He's probably even been in your living room.

In fact, if you slow down just a bit while surfing channels most late nights, you'll be able to find out what he thinks about almost anything.

Kurtenbach, who lives in Lincoln but teaches English at the University of Nebraska at Kearney, has been hosting his own call-in show since he helped create Lincoln's public access channel in the 1970s.

The program, along with his activism in the community, has made him a fixture in Lincoln and an icon to some.

His home is his studio, and the number to call hangs hand-written down the side of the screen.

For the self-described communist, the show is all about dialogue on important issues of the day. But Kurtenbach said some callers lose sight of that.

"It used to be sport to call the program and be abusive," Kurtenbach said. "I had one Bush supporter call and say that all liberals are child molesters. That's just dumb.

"The right-wing approaches are mostly ad homonym attacks. It really reveals the poverty of the right wing imagination."

Kurtenbach's life experiences, however, explain his resilience. Though he said he had a fairly idyllic childhood, the activist has led a life of questioning since he was very young.

"I had a Sunday school teacher who would often talk about the importance of the human heart," he said. "I always had scientific questions about that and how the heart worked."

Nor was he afraid to challenge his teachers.

"I argued with my junior high math teacher because he said that blacks couldn't learn as well because they were poor," he said.

Kurtenbach held his ground and remembered finishing the class with a good grade.

He said his views about human justice and equality were further formed when he came to the realization that the president of the United States also put his pants on one leg at a time.

As a graduate student at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, Kurtenbach said he was deeply affected when the administration fired a political science professor for his political activity in the early 1970s, and the refusal to hire another professor who had a history of engaging in non-violent protests.

Kurtenbach protested the administration's decisions by sitting in at Love Library, which ended in his arrest and a night spent in jail.

"The chair of the English department at the time offered to carry me out so I could avoid being arrested," he said. "I said no."

He pled no contest to the charges of trespassing and paid a $50 fine.

Though the punishment was mild, a precedent was set. Kurtenbach continued to protest those things he perceived as wrong or unfair to the working class.

In fact, it was his feelings of closeness to the working class that made his 27 years as a UNL custodian so meaningful.

"I felt like a priest who had good honest work to do," he said. "It was good, honest, manual labor."

During the years he cleaned buildings and worked toward his graduate degree in English, he was a leader in the creation of the Open Harvest food cooperative and KZUM community radio station, and he published political newsletters from his basement.

Kurtenbach said he eventually left the radio station he helped start when the owners of the station started to take power away from the volunteers.

Steve Larrick, a friend of Kurtenbach and professor of architecture at UNL, said it was sad Kurtenbach's energy and presence were missing from the station.

"He loves the challenge of exchanging ideas," Larrick said. "It would be great if he could be back on the air (at KZUM) and express his viewpoints. Those right wing lunatics need some balance."

Perhaps one mistake Kurtenbach made through the years was coming out against abortion rights, Larrick said.

"But eventually he changed his mind. He has the ability to listen to others and accept new information."

More importantly, however, Larrick said he saw Kurtenbach as someone who had the ability to talk with anyone.

"I know people who are so conservative, but they really enjoy listening to him," he said. "It gets your brain thinking. There's so much mindless, sheep-like action going on, and Ron challenges that."