Mike Pace

6/4/2025

In 2009, I was an arrogant 24-year-old who was cutting my teeth in the film industry and getting to know the lay of the land in the Des Moines market. One name that came up constantly was Mike Pace. I even saw his name on a building that read “Mike Pace Enterprises,” which he would later tell me was just a desk and a telephone. He was the only name I knew of prior to moving to Des Moines in 2007 because of the Iowa Lottery and Powerball broadcasts I would see back in the 1990s when I lived in the Quad Cities. 

Pace graduated from Norwalk High School and attended Iowa State University during a time when 50,000 people were getting drafted to serve in the Vietnam war. Like other soldiers of the day, he attended basic training but then went to music school.

“I had the most incredible tour of duty. I didn’t go to the jungle. Sgt. Majors asked where I wanted to go, and I said San Francisco. So, I went there for seven or eight months after music school. I was stationed in Oakland, but my wife and I lived in special housing. We had no money. A good time was when my wife, Gale, and I would put $1 worth of gas in the car and we would drive around the Bay Area.”

Pace said the military band would play in concerts and parades and, as part of their duty, would entertain diplomats. Parades would get violent when protests broke out, and Pace and others would have smoke bombs thrown at them. Even during his time in the military, Pace was a hustler. He was working at a gym and selling shirts at JCPenney all while serving his country. 

One day, on a lark, Pace and a buddy went to the Columbia School of Broadcasting. They saw where KRNB radio had its studio and where everything was broadcast live. Mike loved seeing the radio announcer work his “craft,” which was reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette until it was time for him to say the call sign.

When Pace returned to Iowa in 1969, he began in professional radio at KWBG in Boone. He moved back to Ames to finish school at Iowa State where he earned a degree in communications. Pace says he didn’t face the aftermath of the Vietnam war like so many other soldiers did. He ended up getting a job as the program director at KWBG where he said he “did everything” — the morning news, the evening news, play by play sports, voice overs and even editing on 3¼ inch tape.

“It was better than a four-year degree when I worked there,” Pace said. “Then I went off to Dubuque, the Quad Cities and a few other places chasing jobs in the radio business. Eventually, I landed at KRNT in Des Moines.”

In 1974, Pace was still hustling, selling men’s shirts at a store on Fleur Drive. He played in a five-piece band that was properly named, The Mike Pace Band. All of this was happening while he was still working in radio. Then, he took a hiatus from the media world and sold blue jeans out of the trunk of his car for OshKosh B’Gosh. Pace knew all about the fabrics — and the art of the sale.

“I had clothes for the American worker in every department store in Des Moines. Overalls and khakis, you name it. But, then I realized I couldn’t do this for the rest of my life. I got cynical because I had no creative outlet. Then, in 1982, Dick Youngs got me an evening gig at KIOA. I owed him a lot. Eternally grateful.”

Pace went to work for a creative advertising agency in 1985 and was hired to host the Iowa Realty TV show, which he did for 41 years. Then came the Iowa Lottery. He had the day job at the agency, Sundays doing Iowa Realty, and the Iowa Lottery was broadcast live in the evenings twice a week. Pace also had a morning radio show that he was hosting in Winterset where he and his family lived. When the station moved to Pella, he was commuting every morning. Mike Pace was hustling.

On Jan. 3, 2009, Pace ended his 23-year career as the emcee of the Iowa Lottery and 20 years with Powerball. In those years, he gave away nearly $5 billion. When I asked him what he thought about all of this, he replied: “What a way to make a living.”

I caught wind that director Wes Worthing made a short film about Pace’s life called “Outro,” something that should have been done a long time ago. It is not a documentary, and, technically, the characters are fictional. However, there is an undeniable likeness between the real man and the one you see on screen. ♦

Kristian Day is a filmmaker and writer based in Des Moines. He also hosts the syndicated Iowa Basement Tapes radio program on 98.9 FM KFMG. Instagram: @kristianday | Twitter: @kristianmday