Kerry Magnus and husband, Alan.
Avia Ustanny, Gleaner Writer
THE NAME on the Hope Pastures residence reads 'Dysfunction Junction'. What kind of people live within? We enter the home and find out. Meet Alan Magnus and 'the other half' petite, fun-loving wife Kerry.
We are taking you on this visit with us, so that when, tomorrow, the voice of 'Morning Man' Magnus starts your day, you will you know a few more reasons for the man's madcap cheerfulness.
The first reason, we assert, is Kerry and the kind of woman she is. Others are the secrets about his personality that she is about to reveal. But, before we tell you how Alan, the radio presenter, and Kerry, the creative director, came to meet, let us go to Westmoreland where Kerry was born and where her father, Cecil Tingling, raised his seven girls.
Protective
To say that Mr. Tingling was protective of Kerry, his first child, would be a bit of an understatement. "Father was extremely strict. No nightclubs. Movies only once a year..." Kerry recalls. "He loved us and cared for us," she explains.
Kerry attended Manning's High School and then promptly applied for a job in Montego Bay, thinking that this would mean more social freedom. But, Dad took her to work and then promptly picked her up for the journey home, afterwards.
On her birthday at age 21, she said to herself, "I am all grown up now," and got herself an apartment.
Still, Dad expected her to come home at least twice each week.
Employed at the Bank of Nova Scotia, she transferred to Kingston, but only stayed for three months. She did not like the place.
"I was not accustomed to taking a bus, taking a taxi," she states.
California calling
One Kerry Tingling got up and decided that California was calling. She left, days later, on a one entry visa for the United States.
Kerry stayed in California where, living with relatives, she decided to attend school. Broadcasting was her first love, but her father, who wanted her to be self-employed, tried to talk her out of it. She compromised and began business studies at Pasadena City College with a minor in Radio and TV. Soon, she decided to switch majors, as she was only interested in her broadcast courses and not in business. On graduation, Kingston was where she headed for a job. California, she said, was too quiet and too big.
In Kingston, she was recruited by Dell Weller of the advertising company McCann Ericson and proceeded to work and play as if each morning would not be followed by another day. She just wanted to have fun.
Asked about her early goals, Kerry comments, "I was not looking for anything. It was clubbing every night. I used to follow Fab Five everywhere they were going." Work itself was also unlimited fun and an endless learning. Kerry, who still works with McCann Ericson, but in the capacity as a consultant creative director, said that the best years were in the 80s.
Exciting ideas
This was the decade when different creative directors from overseas would come in with exciting ideas. She mentions names like David Milligen, Mark Handley and Mike Hirst, who, she said "took advertising to a different level."
McCann Ericson frequently swept the local awards for creative advertising, in one year walking away with 10 awards in all. Kerry Magnus herself was winner of the prestigious Harrison J. McCann International Award in 1987. The award, created in memory of the company's founder, is awarded for consistent professional excellence, over time. Other campaigns for which she was awarded as creative director included Mutual Security, Appleton VX, KFC, Highgate Richie Bar, Semola and Guinness.
Currently, she notes, technical aspects of advertising production have improved, but the creative side is yet to equal that of what was achieved in former years. The difference, she says, may be due to a change in marketing philosophies.
But, work is still fascinating. As a consultant, she first views the written scripts, often provided by marketing, then gives creative input, does the costing, talks with the production house and organises talent, props and lighting. The job is still fun, but family comes first. Both Alan and Kerry are up each weekday by 3:30 in the morning as she makes sure that he does not go in late for work.
"I get up with him, take his clothes out, give him a cup of coffee and walk him to the door." She then turns on the radio to make sure that he has arrived safely.
Frequently, she does not get back to sleep but cleans house. Alan informs us that Kerry is fanatical about housework.
"When there is none she will create it."
All the couple's children are grown and away, some still attending school.
Her youngest, Richard Alan, is studying business management at Florida International University. Daughter Annakaye is completing her Master's in Public Health. Kellie resides in New York and is a new author, having recently written the book Little Lion goes to School.
Kerry considers her step-children to be hers also and says that the family shares a special relationship with their mother, Alan's first wife, Valerie Magnus.
Eldest child David Alan is the only one in Jamaica. Married to Tina, he is employed to the Cigarette Company of Jamaica. He and his wife frequently visit Dysfunction Junction on Friday or Saturday nights when Alan and Kerry, along with friends, try their best to disturb the peace.
Because Alan gets so upset when he sleeps in and therefore goes to work late, he and his wife do not go out during the week, but on weekends the Dysfunction Junction comes alive.
"We run some rough jokes," laughs Kerry.
All prudes are warned to stay away.
After 26 years, they still enjoy each other immensely. The year was 1976 when Alan and Kerry met at RJR. She had just joined McCann and was new to the studios of the radio station.
The two became fast friends. She was impressed, she told Outlook, that he was always talking about his two children, David and Kelly. It was sort of unusual for a man, back then. But, for a long time, they just chatted on the phone.
Relationship
The relationship moved to another plane, she explains because, "I liked him. I cared about him. When I was in his company I was being myself and I liked that. Daddy also liked Alan. He never liked any of my friends before." The two got married in September 1977.
Reviewing their marriage, Kerry hastens to state that it was not always easy. The early years were financially rough times as they ploughed all their savings into buying an NHT house in Barbican.
The down payment was $2000 for the $14,5000 house. They had no money, and no furniture including fridge and stove. For a bed, they used a mattress in their bedroom floor until their mother-in-law advised them to place it on blocks. They discovered that they could also create seating by covering blocks too. In time, they bought a fridge and stove and then a bedroom table.
"I always advise couples to start small and live within their means," Kerry now comments.
Eventually, they sold the Barbican house and bought their current residence in Hope Pastures.
Alan confesses that Kerry is financially brilliant and manages whatever they both make. He does not know when or how much of his pay is deposited in the bank, neither does he know what he earns from outside contracts. He laughs when he says that she gives him $500 every week.
"We are incredulous," and Kerry admits that it is true. "He does not need any more," she says. Alan survives with his credit card. Kerry pays all bills, buys whatever is needed and saves and invests what is left.
Alan, his wife says, has a tendency to give away his money. "When I just met him, he was giving away his entire salary." That was part of the challenge of the early years. But, together they came upon a solution that works.
Alan says about his wife, that apart from her "good financial head", he also appreciates her unselfishness. "Family is the most important thing to her. Family comes first, whether it is her children, her husband, or my mother and father, she will go out of her way to get it done."
Alan, Kerry says, always tries to make them happy as a family. For example, even though he does not like the beach, he will spend all day there with herself and the children.
Unselfish
He, she said, is quite unselfish. "He gives me all his money. He knows I will not squander it," she smiles.
Her father could not have given her into better hands, it appears. But, the businessman is still watching over his child.
"Even now we can't be in want of anything," Kerry Magnus says. "All we have to do is pick up the phone." Every visit to Westmoreland is sure to be met with boxes of groceries, lobster and fish for his firstborn and her family. "He loves Alan. He will give him anything," she says.
Kerry works her schedule to attend almost every outside broadcast that her husband does.
"I love everything about my husband," she insists. And what she loves most, she says, is that they can communicate.
"We can talk about things. If we have a problem we can talk about it."
They each, it appears, have found the special match between one man and one woman, perhaps in 100 years.
