THE ALFO SHOW
Advanced Urban Progressive Political Talk Radio

The ALFO Show was one of TruthWorks Network’s most popular and distinctive broadcasts—a working man’s microphone, powered by political instinct, lived experience, and fearless conversation.
ALFO was not a trained broadcaster. He came to radio as a sharp listener and persistent caller to OUR COMMON GROUND. Eventually, Janice Graham put a microphone in front of him. What emerged was a program unlike anything else on the network.
A self-described “talk scrapper,” ALFO approached politics from the working person’s point of view—the view from the job, the union hall, the neighborhood and the corner store. His analysis centered on current domestic politics, political figures, unfolding events, and the public policies shaping the everyday lives of working people and Black communities.
He frequently called political players to account, from the White House to the State House and, as he would say, “the proverbial outhouse.” Office, title, and reputation offered no protection from the ALFO microphone.
He suffered no fools. Public officials, political operatives, pundits and power brokers who distorted the facts, betrayed the public trust or simply didn’t know what they were talking about could expect ALFO to say so. He mercilessly applied the rod of truth to public liars and crooks, exposing hypocrisy and measuring political promises against what ordinary people were actually experiencing.
Raised hard on Chicago’s South Side, ALFO understood politics from the ground up. At seventeen, upon learning that he was going to become a father, he took the only job he would ever have. Fifty-five years later, he retired from that same company. Along the way, he spent years in union leadership and developed a political analysis rooted not in abstraction, but in work, wages, housing, family, race, organized labor, and survival.
He often recalled holding court at corner stores along his work route, talking politics with men playing cards on the sidewalk. The ALFO Show sometimes sounded exactly like that and deliberately so.
There were generally no scheduled guests. Other than Janice co-hosting or joining him when an issue called for it, ALFO and his callers were the show.
And callers were not protected either.
ALFO had no problem stepping up to an idiot, an uninformed caller, or an ill-informed argument. But he didn’t resolve disagreement by reaching for the disconnect button. He wrestled. He challenged the premise, disputed the facts, pushed the caller to defend the position, and generally kept at it until somebody’s argument gave way.
ALFO was as warm and funny as he was formidable. Friendly, deeply kind, and thoughtful, he greeted his callers with genuine affection and engaged them with an easy familiarity that made listeners feel they were part of the conversation. His humor was ever-present—quick wit, perfectly timed retorts, and that unmistakable laughter carrying him through the broadcast. You could almost see him leaning back in his chair, laughing as he dismantled a poorly reasoned political position piece by piece. He could move effortlessly from a joyful explanation or playful exchange to a stinging political review, and somehow the laughter never disappeared. ALFO could be merciless with a bad argument without losing his humanity toward the person making it. He laughed, he taught, he challenged, and he welcomed you in, all the while taking your politics apart.
His listeners, and ALFO himself, loved the drama.
Yet beneath the sparring was a serious proposition: politics had to mean something in people’s lives. ALFO had little patience for analysis that could explain the world but offered nothing to the people trying to live in it.
As he would bellow:
“We don’t need a Ph.D. We need a job, a house and a living wage.”
Every broadcast eventually arrived at the moment his listeners knew was coming. ALFO would gather up the arguments of the evening, assess what Black people and working people were facing, and deliver his closing commentary.
But before his unmistakable final words, he reminded his audience of two principles:
“Nothing comes to a sleeper but a dream.” “When injustice becomes law, resistance becomes duty.”
Then came the verdict. JUST DAMN.

And carrying the spirit of the program from beginning to end was its theme song: “Wake Up Everybody,” performed by Teddy Pendergrass with Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes, an entirely appropriate summons for a broadcaster who believed people needed to wake up, pay attention, think for themselves, and act. He often called out Pendergrass, demanding royalties for his show carrying the song.
From Caller to Broadcaster
The story of how an OCG caller became the voice behind one of TruthWorks Network’s most beloved programs is also the story of an extraordinary friendship and broadcasting partnership.
For years, Janice Graham and ALFO talked, argued, planned, and produced radio together—without ever meeting face-to-face. His studio was his kitchen table. Janice handled the production because, as ALFO regularly reminded her, “That’s your job. Talking is mine,” referring to her as Madam Executive Producer.
Their relationship extended far beyond the broadcasts. In 2022, ALFO’s health issues forced ALFO to shut down the board and mute his mic. Duane “ALFO ” Alford made his transition in 2023.

Duane “ALFO” Alford