San Francisco’s Last Top 40 Disc Jockey

In the competitive world of commercial radio broadcasting, establishing a memorable and distinctive persona is vital. The chosen name shapes reputation and brand, influencing first impressions, artistic identity, and public perception. For this reason, having a distinctive name is crucial. However, for some, using their real name is a personal decision I support, as it can carry its unique authenticity and foster a deeper connection with the audience. A name holds identity and meaning—whether chosen or inherited—and carries the power to connect us in lasting ways.

As we waited for Professor Menden to arrive at The Beach (CSULB), students and hopeful broadcasters worked on a substantial project. Choosing a fictitious name for on-air work was the assigned task, and the first name that came to mind was “Big” Johnson. I had no sexual connotations in mind when I chose the handle. The name I selected paid homage to a revered local sports celebrity and philanthropist, underscoring his deep-rooted allegiance to his hometown community, where he remained loyal and committed. I adopted “Big” as a role model, much to the dismay of many of my adult relatives in the neighborhood. I am sure it was because of his confident and charismatic persona as a ladies’ man. My stylish, well-informed college friends enlightened me about the repercussions of using “Big” Johnson as an alias, prompting me to abandon it and feel somewhat uncomfortable.

After thoughtful reflection and discussions with the family librarian, I adopted the professional name Don Sainte-Johnn. I chose my stage name deliberately. It was a thoughtful construct born of reason and consideration. The key criterion for choosing it was branding—it had to be memorable and easy to pronounce.

A mentor once shared that having an alternative name could be advantageous in various situations, such as depositing a payroll check without emphasizing one’s mass media affiliation.

I always wanted a unique name people would consider exceptional, and since Drake’s KHJ had a considerable influence on me, the handle needed to sound trendy and in vogue. It also could not be too long or contain too many syllables. For instance, a handle like Wilber Babatunde Augustine Selassie Bullard-Johnson would not sound cool and hip when paired with a singing “name jingle” and the tagline 93KHJ. It would have taken too much time, and the jingle singers would have exhausted themselves.

The Don part of my name is a tribute to my mom’s favorite musician, Don Shirley, known for the hit song “Water Boy”; Sainte is in honor of Louisiana relatives, many of whom share the surname. My father gave me his family name, which I later shortened to John for on-air purposes; interestingly, I was a huge fan of actor Raymond St. Jacques, who also carried the same Johnson name.

So, by merging the two, St. Jacques and Johnson, I decided on Sainte-Johnn. Upon hearing the name, some needed clarification, such as, “Did you say St. James or St. John?” As a result, they spent more time focusing on the name itself—an under-the-radar form of marketing. Momma Nell and Grandma Ella were unhappy with the name change, but I reassured them I only wanted to separate my personal life from my radio business. As one could imagine, my grandmother was the last to board the Don Sainte-Johnn Train-of-Change. When she offered her blessing, it meant a lot.