When Ch. 2 went looking for a new co-anchor for Michelle King, they did something progressive -- they sought her opinion. When she saw a tape of Mark Koelbel anchoring the news in Corpus Christi, Texas, she strongly recommended him.
"Michelle and I hit it off really well," says Koelbel,"which is a very big reason I was offered the job. She had a big say in it. I owe Michelle a lot."A native of Michigan, Koelbel spent his youthful years in the small town of Bradford, Pa. After majoring in rhetoric and communications with a minor in politics at the University of Pittsburgh, he went into radio.
"I wanted to be a speech writer, and then I realized if your candidate doesn't win, you don't work."
One day he was asked by the TV station that owned his radio station to convert one of his radio stories for TV, and overnight he became a TV reporter.
"I got thrown into it real quick. It was very fast-paced. I didn't even like it at first."
Koelbel spent eight years in the Carolinas, all at the same station serving four cities, but he never thought about being an anchor until asked to do some fill-in work.
Not so fast. He looked nothing like an anchorman. He had a large mustache, glasses and long, bushy hair.
The station's consultant said, "You don't look like a TV guy." She told him to shave his mustache, cut and restyle his hair and get contacts, but he rebelled.
"I said, 'I just don't want to do that,' and she said, 'Well, it's been nice working with you.' He went home, thought about it and changed his mind.
With Koelbel's appearance magically changed, he became weekend anchor and liked it. Shortly afterward, he was transferred to a smaller sister station in Panama City, Fla., as main anchor. Finally, he moved to Texas.
Koebel instantly liked Salt Lake City, but on the air, he was nervous and stiff. The general manager called him in to review a tape of one of his Texas newscasts and said, "This is why I hired you. Now just be YOU. If you're YOU, they're going to like you."
Since then, he has felt much more relaxed. Recently, he even stopped coloring his hair and allowed the gray to show through.
"The consultant said she kinda liked it. The news director said, 'Put some color on your hair!' The general manager said, 'I LIKE your gray hair.' "
So far, the gray stays.
At 42, Koelbel thinks it may be time for him to stop moving around, even though he has network fantasies. He's loyal to Ch. 2 and loves it here.
He is married to the former Pam Wilki, a nurse who recently acquired her Utah license to practice. They have no children.
As the "face of the station," Koelbel spends a lot of time speaking and shaking hands in the community.
He may speak at Rotary or a school in the morning before he hits the station in the afternoon, then he doesn't arrive home until midnight.
For relaxation and aerobic exercise, he enjoys playing the drums, which he began in the fifth grade. He loves basketball and tennis, but he doesn't ski because of two previous knee surgeries.
Since his major intellectual interest is politics, he recently read "All Too Human," George Stephanopoulos's book about the Clinton administration.
Koelbel relied heavily at first on his co-anchor. "When we covered the wagon train, I asked her if she had anything to read. I studied for two days, and during a break in our live coverage, she said, 'You know this stuff better than I do, and I'm Mormon."'
Koelbel is completely comfortable with King. "We're even the same age -- actually, she's three weeks older than I am."
He admits to being a prankster, who fights stress with laughter. "During a commercial break, I do imitations, because I think humor is the best medicine. She kids back, too. She's no angel!"
He remembers one night recently when they had tape of Fabio's nose colliding with a bird while he was riding the roller coaster at Busch Gardens.
"As Michelle was reading the story, I was making gestures, and she kicked me under the table."
While in South Carolina, Koelbel's photographer, Harold Thompson, accompanied him to an auto accident. As they approached the car, Thompson turned pale. "Mark," he said, "That's my cousin!" He called for another photographer.
"I felt so bad for him," says Koelbel. "I realized that day that every story we do is about someone's mother, brother, sister or cousin. Now when I do a story, I get more emotionally involved, because it's a tragic thing when ANYONE gets hurt or killed."