Tony Méndez llegó a Providence desde la República Dominicana en 1977, con solo once años y sin hablar inglés. Aprendió el idioma en la escuela pública y pronto descubrió su pasión por la música y la radio. Mientras estudiaba en URI, insistió en llevar la música latina a las ondas de WRIU 90.3 FM, logrando crear el primer programa en español de la emisora. Su compromiso con dar voz a su comunidad lo llevó a crear programas de televisión local, DJ en eventos comunitarios y, eventualmente, lanzar Poder 1110 AM en 1995, la primera estación en español a tiempo completo en Rhode Island. Para Tony, la radio siempre fue más que entretenimiento: fue una herramienta de conexión, educación y empoderamiento. Desde promover el Censo hasta alentar el voto latino, Tony ha usado su voz y visión para construir comunidad y abrir caminos para futuras generaciones latinas en los medios.
I was born in the Dominican Republic and moved to Providence in 1977 when I was eleven years old. I didn’t speak any English when I arrived, but I learned quickly through a bilingual program at Gilbert Stuart Middle School. Like many immigrant kids, I balanced adapting to a new culture with holding tight to my roots. Music was the bridge.
My older brother had been a DJ back in the Dominican Republic, and when he came to the States, we bought a stereo system with turntables. That’s how it started. I’d practice at home, make mix tapes, and eventually started DJing at parties. By the time I graduated high school in 1983, I knew I wanted to work in radio. So, I chose the University of Rhode Island (URI) because it had a station—WRIU.
Getting on air wasn’t easy. They told me to start with their AM station, which only reached campus. I pushed back. I wanted to be on FM—90.3 FM—which reached all of Rhode Island and beyond. After months of persistence, they gave me a shot. I started a half-hour Spanish-language music show on Sundays. It was the first time that station had ever broadcast Latin music. Eventually, it grew to three hours. That may not sound like much now, but back then, it was huge. Spanish-language radio options were almost nonexistent. WRIU was non-commercial, which gave us the freedom to experiment and reach younger audiences with fresh, modern programming. The only other Spanish-language station, WRIB, had a very traditional style and limited hours.
Word spread fast. I was working weekends at my family’s store—Mendez Supermarket on Cranston Street—and while there, I handed out flyers and promoted the show to customers. People came to our store from all over—New Bedford, Woonsocket, Pawtucket—not just for groceries, but for that connection to home. That’s when I realized the real power of radio.
My older brother had been a DJ back in the Dominican Republic, and when he came to the States, we bought a stereo system with turntables. That’s how it started. I’d practice at home, make mix tapes, and eventually started DJing at parties. By the time I graduated high school in 1983, I knew I wanted to work in radio. So, I chose the University of Rhode Island (URI) because it had a station—WRIU.
Getting on air wasn’t easy. They told me to start with their AM station, which only reached campus. I pushed back. I wanted to be on FM—90.3 FM—which reached all of Rhode Island and beyond. After months of persistence, they gave me a shot. I started a half-hour Spanish-language music show on Sundays. It was the first time that station had ever broadcast Latin music. Eventually, it grew to three hours. That may not sound like much now, but back then, it was huge. Spanish-language radio options were almost nonexistent. WRIU was non-commercial, which gave us the freedom to experiment and reach younger audiences with fresh, modern programming. The only other Spanish-language station, WRIB, had a very traditional style and limited hours.
Word spread fast. I was working weekends at my family’s store—Mendez Supermarket on Cranston Street—and while there, I handed out flyers and promoted the show to customers. People came to our store from all over—New Bedford, Woonsocket, Pawtucket—not just for groceries, but for that connection to home. That’s when I realized the real power of radio.
Meeting of the Minds Makes History
Around that time, I met Zoilo García, who was organizing a high school talent show. A mutual friend introduced us, and he invited me to MC the event. I later brought him to the station at URI. That was the beginning of a lasting partnership.
Eventually, I transferred to Rhode Island College (RIC), and I could no longer host the show. But I wasn’t ready to walk away from media. That’s when I learned about Dimension Cable’s community access program. A few of us took their classes and launched a weekly Spanish-language TV show—music videos, interviews, local events. It was a magazine-style program, and the first of its kind in Rhode Island. At first, it was just for fun—we couldn’t sell ads because it was public access. But after a year, we decided to lease our own airtime so we could generate revenue.
That was in 1987. We were the first people—Latino or otherwise—to buy time from the cable company. They didn’t even have a rate for that kind of request. We basically had to help them figure it out.
The program did well, but our hearts were still with radio. So, in 1990, we approached WJFD 97.3 FM, a Portuguese-language station in New Bedford. We proposed leasing time for a Spanish-language show. They agreed, and we started once a week. It quickly grew to a daily block from 4 to 9 p.m. We focused on music—salsa, merengue, Latin pop—and less talk, more rhythm. That was the formula. Unlike other stations, we didn’t talk over the music. We respected the music and the listener.
I was always listening to tapes from stations in New York, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic. I’d ask friends traveling abroad to record shows for me, commercials and all. I studied everything—how they used transitions, voiceovers, promos, effects. We brought that production value to our show, and it set us apart.
But we wanted more. We wanted our own station—something full-time, independent, and rooted in the community. That dream came true on September 1, 1995, when we launched Poder 1110 AM. It was the first full-time Spanish-language radio station in Rhode Island. Up until then, programming in Spanish was mostly part-time, squeezed into early morning or evening slots on other stations. Poder 1110 broadcasted 24/7 in Spanish, and from day one, it had a massive impact.
Of course, there were skeptics. People said we wouldn’t last, that the Hispanic market in Rhode Island couldn’t support a full-time station. But we believed in our vision—and the community stood behind us.
Eventually, I transferred to Rhode Island College (RIC), and I could no longer host the show. But I wasn’t ready to walk away from media. That’s when I learned about Dimension Cable’s community access program. A few of us took their classes and launched a weekly Spanish-language TV show—music videos, interviews, local events. It was a magazine-style program, and the first of its kind in Rhode Island. At first, it was just for fun—we couldn’t sell ads because it was public access. But after a year, we decided to lease our own airtime so we could generate revenue.
That was in 1987. We were the first people—Latino or otherwise—to buy time from the cable company. They didn’t even have a rate for that kind of request. We basically had to help them figure it out.
The program did well, but our hearts were still with radio. So, in 1990, we approached WJFD 97.3 FM, a Portuguese-language station in New Bedford. We proposed leasing time for a Spanish-language show. They agreed, and we started once a week. It quickly grew to a daily block from 4 to 9 p.m. We focused on music—salsa, merengue, Latin pop—and less talk, more rhythm. That was the formula. Unlike other stations, we didn’t talk over the music. We respected the music and the listener.
I was always listening to tapes from stations in New York, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic. I’d ask friends traveling abroad to record shows for me, commercials and all. I studied everything—how they used transitions, voiceovers, promos, effects. We brought that production value to our show, and it set us apart.
But we wanted more. We wanted our own station—something full-time, independent, and rooted in the community. That dream came true on September 1, 1995, when we launched Poder 1110 AM. It was the first full-time Spanish-language radio station in Rhode Island. Up until then, programming in Spanish was mostly part-time, squeezed into early morning or evening slots on other stations. Poder 1110 broadcasted 24/7 in Spanish, and from day one, it had a massive impact.
Of course, there were skeptics. People said we wouldn’t last, that the Hispanic market in Rhode Island couldn’t support a full-time station. But we believed in our vision—and the community stood behind us.
From Music to Civic Engagement
Poder 1110 quickly became more than just music. We dedicated time to civic engagement. We launched Al Frente con el Poder, a Saturday morning talk show focused on political education, voting rights, and community issues. We brought on local leaders, state reps, the mayor, even the governor. We took calls from listeners and gave our community a direct line to decision-makers. One host, Delia Schmidt [Masjoan], became a trusted voice, and her show is still going strong.
During the 2000 Census, we launched a major outreach campaign. We knew how important accurate data was for representation and funding. We ran public service announcements, hosted live interviews, and even held a cash sweepstakes to encourage participation. The result? Rhode Island ended up with one of the highest response rates in the country.
We’ve been just as involved in elections. After a Latino candidate lost by only 20 votes in 1998, we made a commitment to do more. In the next cycle, we profiled every candidate, interviewed them on air, and encouraged our listeners to vote. Latino turnout more than doubled. We even broadcast live from polling places like Sacket Street, where the energy was incredible.
We’ve tackled hard conversations too—racial profiling, police-community tensions, domestic violence, immigration. After the killing of Sergeant Cornel Young, we brought in police officers and community leaders to talk openly. We also hosted forums about city taxes, school policies, noise ordinances—whatever mattered to our listeners.
And we always tried to meet people where they were—on the radio, in their language, and with a tone that was informative but never boring. Some criticize our morning show for being too casual or controversial. We don’t shy away from real topics, whether it’s sex, mental health, or public safety. But we bring in professionals—doctors, professors, psychologists—to guide those conversations. And yes, we joke around. That’s part of how we connect. We keep it human.
We’ve also embraced our cultural diversity. Dominicans may be the largest Latino group in Rhode Island, but we’ve supported festivals and programming for Puerto Ricans, Colombians, Guatemalans, and others. Our strength is in our shared language and stories—even if our accents and foods are different.
Today, Poder 1110 is the top Spanish-language radio station in the state. And we’re still growing. My dream is for us to be the number one station in Rhode Island—period. As the Latino community continues to grow, so does our responsibility. We need more bilingual education. More access. More representation.
Poder isn’t just a radio station—it’s a lifeline. A platform. A mirror. A megaphone. It’s where our community hears itself, sees its power, and steps into it.
That’s why we’re called “Poder.” Because every day, we speak power into our people’s lives. ▪️
During the 2000 Census, we launched a major outreach campaign. We knew how important accurate data was for representation and funding. We ran public service announcements, hosted live interviews, and even held a cash sweepstakes to encourage participation. The result? Rhode Island ended up with one of the highest response rates in the country.
We’ve been just as involved in elections. After a Latino candidate lost by only 20 votes in 1998, we made a commitment to do more. In the next cycle, we profiled every candidate, interviewed them on air, and encouraged our listeners to vote. Latino turnout more than doubled. We even broadcast live from polling places like Sacket Street, where the energy was incredible.
We’ve tackled hard conversations too—racial profiling, police-community tensions, domestic violence, immigration. After the killing of Sergeant Cornel Young, we brought in police officers and community leaders to talk openly. We also hosted forums about city taxes, school policies, noise ordinances—whatever mattered to our listeners.
And we always tried to meet people where they were—on the radio, in their language, and with a tone that was informative but never boring. Some criticize our morning show for being too casual or controversial. We don’t shy away from real topics, whether it’s sex, mental health, or public safety. But we bring in professionals—doctors, professors, psychologists—to guide those conversations. And yes, we joke around. That’s part of how we connect. We keep it human.
We’ve also embraced our cultural diversity. Dominicans may be the largest Latino group in Rhode Island, but we’ve supported festivals and programming for Puerto Ricans, Colombians, Guatemalans, and others. Our strength is in our shared language and stories—even if our accents and foods are different.
Today, Poder 1110 is the top Spanish-language radio station in the state. And we’re still growing. My dream is for us to be the number one station in Rhode Island—period. As the Latino community continues to grow, so does our responsibility. We need more bilingual education. More access. More representation.
Poder isn’t just a radio station—it’s a lifeline. A platform. A mirror. A megaphone. It’s where our community hears itself, sees its power, and steps into it.
That’s why we’re called “Poder.” Because every day, we speak power into our people’s lives. ▪️
Interviewer by Ariel Sacks
October 2000
Narrative written by Marta V. Martínez
