KWIT

Ally Karsyn

Arts Producer/Announcer

I was born in Kansas City, Missouri March 22, 1943. An interesting story from my childhood was that I was born in the midst of WWII, and my mother was the oldest out of five sisters.  Three of her sisters' husbands were in the war as well as my father, and my father didn't see me until I was three years old because he was in Europe.

He was stationed in England, he was part of the D Day Invasion, and he was never in battle. He was something called a telegrapher clerk and was on ship relaying the messages to how the battle was going.

My Grandpa Albert lives in San Antonio, Texas.  I interviewed him over Facetime on my Ipad as there was no time to meet with him face to face.  His life is interesting and full of surprises!

Ultra Violet
Ally Karsyn

Ultra Violet describes itself as an “ever-evolving project pushing the creative boundaries of self through musical expression.” It started out as a duo with Angie Lambrecht, a trained percussionist, and one of her best friends, Velvet Adams, on bass.

They were influenced by Shakey Graves, an Americana musician from Austin, Texas, who set out as a one-man band, playing his vintage guitar and a floor drum made out of suitcase.

 

Kevin Kling is a master storyteller and down-home philosopher from the Land of 10,000 Lakes. He takes on a serious tone quickly cracked by humor, and while you’re softened by laughter, that’s when he’ll go straight for the heart and pulls those strings like a puppet master.

 

Hugh Weber
Ally Karsyn

My story begins, as all good stories should, on the White House lawn – the Fourth of July in 2004. As you can imagine, it’s a pretty impressive, exhilarating and intimidating place to be. To your right, the cabinet secretaries. To your left, the president’s dog, Barney. This was the destination of a dream for a very unusual 8-year-old from Milbank, South Dakota, a pretty strange kid who set out to be President with the support of everyone around him – teachers, pastors, mayors and family.

Ultra Violet
Ally Karsyn

“I was the guy that left Sioux City and moved away to bigger cities, thinking that’s where all the answers are found. But you can hitch your buggy to somebody else’s horse or you can figure out what’s going to give yourself momentum and just take that. I think it’s harder to do in a small city. The people that are here doing it and choosing to do it – that’s where it’s at. There’s a lot of really amazing people in Sioux City that are making art and music. For our size, it’s really happenin’ here.” –Adrian Kolbo with Ultra Violet

My grandfather was named Farid Jabre. He was born in Beit Chebab, Lebanon. He changed his birth date to March 19 to show his devotion to Saint Joseph. My dad doesn’t remember my grandfather’s real birth date, except that he was born in the year 1921. Grandfather died before I was born. He died from a stroke and heart attack because of heavy cigarettes smoking. So, please, don’t smoke.

Ultra Violet
Ally Karsyn

Meet Ultra Violet.

Angie Lambrecht–on vocals, acoustic guitar and feet percussion–is a full-time musician who performs and teaches lessons. Randall Wood–on keyboard–is a night-time emergency room doctor and runs a small business, called Azapaza, selling imported products from India, with his wife. Shawn Blomberg–on the bass guitar and sometimes ukulele–is a massage therapist. And Adrian Kolbo–on the electric guitar–is an event producer for the City of Sioux City.

Together, they are Ultra Violet.

At age 92, our great uncle Howard Horii has many stories to tell, but one of the most compelling is his story of the Japanese- American internment camps during WWII.  Because of their Japanese-American heritage, after the 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor, many Americans viewed the Japanese, even those born in this country, with suspicion, and thousands were taken to prison camps to remain for the duration of the war. Howard’s family was in a camp at the Gila River Relocation Center in Arizona and while they tried to make it seem normal, they did feel like prisoners.

Sometimes, when people hear my accent, they’ll ask where I’m from. It’s not an easy answer. The place I call home is East Jerusalem. I hold a travel document, not a passport, from Israel and a visa to be here. I am stateless. In the eyes of the government, I barely exist.

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