He was Perth’s all-singing, all-whistling king of radio for more than a decade. Today at 65, Lionel Yorke is still soaking up the limelight, this time as a marriage celebrant.

Gone are the trademark white suits, these days its white weddings and even the odd gay and lesbian commitment ceremony.

It’s like 1980-something all over again.

Yorkie - the lean, 6’3, back-slappin’ machine, dressed to the nine’s in designer suit, striking another effervescent pose for the camera; passers-by unable to resist a wave and cheerio to an unforgettable face of radio. Within minutes, Fraser Avenue in Kings Park is his stage, Perth’s king of radio is back and he’s loving every minute of it.

"I love people. I love talking to people. I am a people’s person" he says in that upbeat voice, so unmistakably "Yorkie". And it’s not such a bad trait to have if you’re going to spend the better part of your life in the public eye, though he reluctantly admits to some trying times in his 45-year career.

"The allegations have just been "Did you know Yorkie is a poof?" he says in exacerbation. "I’m meant to have had affairs with prominent businessmen and male radio personalities but it’s completely untrue. I have always been heterosexual and just love, LOVE women.

"I dressed differently back in those days – pink jackets and I remember caftans at one stage…doing a Kamahl" he laughs. "I guess I was a bit different to the norm and maybe that’s where it all came from. You just have to have broad shoulders to cope with it".

In fact Yorke dated a bevy of beauties including Australian Penthouse Pet, Cheryl Rixon before marrying wife Lynne-Marie in the 1970’s. The couple have three children, Beau (27), Zac (25) and Creed (23) who Yorke insists he "loves very much". Divorced in the 1980’s, he’s now in a long term relationship with a "beautiful lady, Ellie", whose 18-year-old daughter is, ironically enough embarking on a show business career of her own.

As for white suits, Yorke is keen to point out, he no longer owns one and that 2006 is a long way from 1976.

"What I’m saying is, I’ve moved on. I’m now in a new millennium and I think in a new millennium. I don’t like going down the track of what I used to be because I’m not the same person any more".

Today, the former broadcasting legend holds court for smaller audiences, as a marriage celebrant. It’s a role he took on in earnest in the 1980’s after a chance promotional gig with his old employer, super-ratings radio station 6PM.

"This girl (caller) said, "We want to get married", and I said "Do you want a priest or a minister?" and she said "No, we want YOU to marry us". Within a week, Yorke had a celebrant’s licence but with no idea of how a service began or ended, he fronted the Perth Marriage Registrar General’s Office for ideas. The wedding finale, paid for and broadcast by the station, was life changing.

"You know how it feels when you put on a glove and it fits? That’s how it was" says Yorke who now performs up to 140 weddings a year.

Among the "thousands" of ceremonies Yorke has conducted over the years are airborne nuptials in a private plane over the Antarctic ("we flew low over the glaziers while it was all happening"); a bikie wedding (a "fairly tame" affair) and fancy dress weddings with medieval and wild west themes ("sometimes they have a costume for me too and it’s all in good fun" he laughs).

Yorke is also one of only a handful of celebrants in WA happy to do Commitment of Love Ceremonies for gay and lesbian couples. Unlike England’s new Civil Partnership Ceremonies or "gay weddings’ they are not officially binding and no legal documents are signed.

Again it was a call from a member of the public that sparked Yorke’s interest.

"A gay couple contacted me and said we can’t find anyone to marry us. We’ve spoken to five different celebrants and none of them will do it. So I said I’ll do it. It wasn’t a problem. I’ve worked with so many people in the show business industry who are gay. They’re human beings just like anyone else and there’s no reason why someone can’t have a Commitment Ceremony of Love if they want one" he says.

Lesbians Nyree Hughes (21) and Lisa Jaremtczuk (25) have nothing but praise for Yorke and his decision to perform same sex commitment ceremonies.

In March 2004, the couple exchanged vows and wedding rings in front of 30 guests in the back yard of their Girrawheen home. Amid a sea of tea lights and rose petals, Yorke welcomed Nyree as she walked down the aisle in traditional white wedding gown. Lisa, in black suit and white tie, was flanked by her "attendants"; two of her sisters wearing black pants, singlets and pinks shawls.

"It was a brilliant day, both intimate and casual" says Nyree, now pregnant with the couple’s first child from donor sperm.

Adds Lisa: "The problem is that when people think about gay couples, they don’t go past the bedroom. We’re just normal people and our love is good love".

While Yorke is reticent to be dragged further into the gay marriages debate, he does applaud those who have spoken out publicly in support of same sex unions. Among them veteran British television host, Michael Parkinson and closer to home, the Anglican Dean of Perth, quoted as saying "Jesus would approve of gay marriages" because of the Gospel of "forgiveness, acceptance and encouragement of others".

When asked about the latest and most famous gay marriage of them all, that of Elton John to his long-time partner David Furnish, Yorke says he wishes he could have "performed the ceremony himself and stayed on to party".

Not that Yorke is in need of hanging out with the A-list set. Beaming down from the walls of his North Perth office are faces of celebrities, past and present; framed photo montages of the rich and famous, many he interviewed while covering the Oscars in Los Angeles for 6PM with celebrity reporter and "good mate" John-Michael Howson. It’s a Hall of Fame he says illustrates his "wonderful journey in life".

There’s Jack Nicholson ("very intense"); Harrison Ford ("quiet and shy"); John Wayne ("big hat, good handshake"); Mel Gibson ("just starting out and difficult to interview") and Shirley MacLaine ("very, very intellectual’). Further back, there’s the Beatles ("ordinary boys. John Lennon was the quietest") and the Rolling Stones ("I compared their show at the Palais Theatre in Melbourne").

Standing tall on a bookshelf alongside Hollywood’s famous faces is a stash of TV Week, King of Pop Awards. The DJ equivalent of the Aussie actor’s Logie, Yorke received them for his on-air talents in the late 70’s and early 80’s.

Flicking through boxes of faded scrapbooks, overflowing with press clippings and black and white publicity stills, you get an immediate sense of the former star-status of the man born with the less than catchy moniker, Lionel Harold Wiggett.

Growing up with little money in Ormond, Melbourne, his father away at war in Borneo and New Guinea, Lionel would sit on the back porch with his cherished gramophone. For hours he would play 78-records; a mix of songs by singing legends like Bing Crosby, classical music and jazz.

"I’d wind up the gramophone, put records on, take them off, wind it up again and listen some more" says Yorke who left school at 15 with aspirations of becoming a policeman.

Passionate about radio ("I’d listen to lots of radio serials"), he eventually signed up at Melbourne’s Lee Murray School of Radio. Part-time modelling paid the bills while he also indulged in another love, football, playing under-18’s for Collingwood. Forced to make a career choice, he hung up his boots in 1955 after landing his first job at 3XY in Melbourne.

Working in the opulent Princess Theatre building in Spring Street, Yorke played "gofer" ("I’d go for this, go for that") to a new junior, 3XY announcer, Bert Newton. There he also met a young Graeme Kennedy and Mike Walsh.

"They were several years older than me and I would follow them round like a puppy dog" he recalls with a laugh. "They’d be drinking beer and I would have a lemonade. Their quick wit was something to behold and this was years before their big break into television. They certainly became my idols".

Like many young guns starting out in the business, Yorke was forced to cut his teeth in country radio and in 1960, he scored a gig in Wagga Wagga. Despite his enthusiasm, it was a short lived affair.

"I had been there about a month and the general manager called me in. I thought I was doing a great job and was going to get a raise. He said you’re terrible. You’re not going to make it in radio, son. That really deflated me" says Yorke who still sees the old GM around Perth today and together they have a laugh about the dismissal.

His big break in "big time" radio came in 1962 with a job at 3AK in Melbourne. But soon enough, it was back into the boss’ office, this time for a name change; Harold Wiggett he was told, lacked "pizzazz".

"I said I’ve got a beauty for you – Lionel London! He said where did you get that from? And I said, I just thought about different places in the world. He said no, it’s not good. How about New York with an "e" at the end and we drop the "New"? So that was it - Lionel YORKE! and soon enough, everyone had shortened it to "Yorkie".

A three year stint in the US followed, but with no Green Card the now famous Aussie DJ was forced to take cash jobs including washing dishes. A call from Colin Ridgeway, a former Melbournite who had joined the Dallas Cowboys and had big contacts in all the right places, saved the day. Yorke took a job working on Texas radio.

Commercials, sketches and singing gigs on programmes including the Graeme Kennedy Show followed on Yorke’s return to Australia in 1973. The same year he received a life changing call from two old 3AK mates, Des McDonald and Brendan Sheedy. They were looking for someone to fill the breakfast slot at 6PM in Perth.

"They said, it’s only for two weeks, so I said sure. But two weeks became two months. Two months went to two years and I’ve been here for 30 odd years since" he says.

In a sea of DJ clones with monotonous similarity, Yorkie had soon crafted an inimitable on-air alter-ego. Like it or not, there was no escaping his opening swansong "How do you do? It’s good to see you" (a tune originally sung by crooner, Matt Monro) which became embedded in the Perth public psyche for years.

Then there were the whistles and the Hey Hey’s! - All part and parcel of B-I-G personality radio; a world devoid of computer scheduling and CD’s. Instead, just vinyl 45’s, a lone telephone and mike.

If anyone needed proof that Sandgropers were smitten with Yorke, it came in 1980. After accepting an offer "too good to refuse" from rival station 6IX, media boss, Robert Holmes a court marked the occasion with a live radio-TV broadcast from the Perth Entertainment Centre. Some 8000 listeners turned up to see their talk show hero descend from the top of the stairs, singing his famous morning tune. It was, says Yorke, an "incredible moment, something I will never forget".

Yorke’s dream run ended in 1988 when, back at 6PM, his contract was not renewed. He gave talkback on 6PR a try, but by the early 90’s, the ever effervescent radio host was losing steam. A huge bout of depression followed.

"It’s like what Garry McDonald had" he says, reluctant to dwell on the subject. "My father had passed away, I had ended a long term relationship with a woman and I’d left 6PM. Everything just built up, then crunch! I ended up on the floor for 2-3 months.

In 1992, aged 52, Yorke bounced back, joining 6IX for a breakfast radio slot. In a superhuman effort, he stayed with the station for five years before succumbing to the gruelling pace of rising every morning at 330am.

Today he is back at PR on "his terms", as an accounts manager, doing some promotional and marketing work.

"I just want to slow down a little bit now. I’ve worked basically since the age of 14 and I’m just getting a bit tired. But I love doing what I am doing" he says.

For four months of the year, you’ll find Lionel Yorke in Broome, a home away from home, when he does weddings for couples from around Australia and overseas. It’s an idyllic location that’s been beckoning since 1980 when he was first involved in the opening of Cable Beach Resort ("they’ve helped me a hell of a lot over the years" he says).

Working on occasion with local wedding planners, Broome Wedding Services ("they even have an elopement service") Yorke delights in "21^st century ceremonies with no old fashioned obeys or religion".

"There’s a catchphrase "Broome Time"" he says. "And it’s so true. It’s such a laidback place, not too far away to get married, have a honeymoon and take some friends".

And it’s under Broome’s azure skies that Yorke contemplates retiring one day. In the meantime, the beachside backdrop is as good a place as any for him to muse about the past, the future…his whole incredible rags to riches odyssey.

"I have had a wonderful journey in life and met some wonderful, wonderful people. I enjoyed radio immensely but today there aren’t too many Burgo’s or Wattsie and Martin’s around anymore. It’s not the same feeling. But then again, you just have to move on otherwise you’re stuck, lost in a time warp and that’s not where I want to be".