Being in the car business in DFW my whole life, I knew Louis Smith very well from his days in retail car selling. To the huge majority of people here in DFW, you knew him as Ed Wallace. Lots of people take radio names, and I never heard the story on why he chose that name, but it certainly stuck.
Ed Wallace wasn’t just another voice talking about cars on North Texas radio. For more than three decades, he was part of the weekend rhythm for thousands of listeners across Dallas–Fort Worth — a familiar, trusted presence who, like me, understood that cars were never just transportation. They were part of people’s lives. Wallace died Dec. 28, 2025, at his home in Fort Worth. He was 72.
For many, including me, before I got my own radio show, Saturday mornings meant tuning in to “Wheels with Ed Wallace,” the five-hour radio program that began in 1993 and ran for nearly 30 years. What started as a show about cars became something broader and more personal. Wallace talked about buying and selling, repairs and recalls, but he also talked about people — their frustrations, their finances, their families, and the everyday realities that come with owning a vehicle. He spoke plainly, thoughtfully, and with curiosity. He knew a lot about a lot of different things. He was passionate about music, he understood energy and oil, and he was the consummate storyteller.
Wallace’s path into journalism was unconventional, and that may have been part of his appeal. A former car salesman with no college degree, he built credibility the old-fashioned way: by listening, learning, and telling the truth as he saw it. He often described himself as a “master of the obvious,” but that understated approach resonated. In an industry often cluttered with hype, Wallace had a knack for cutting through the noise and focusing on what mattered to consumers.
His work extended far beyond radio. Wallace wrote nearly 1,000 automotive columns for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, helping guide readers through decades of changes in the car business. He was also a familiar face on local television, reviewing vehicles on Fox 4’s Good Day, where his calm, conversational style translated seamlessly to the screen. Whether on radio, in print or on TV, his voice was consistent: practical, honest, and accessible.
One really funny memory I have of Ed was in 1998, when he was doing his Fox 4 car review, a young man in a bunny suit eluded station security and busted onto the shot. Always the professional, Ed made the best of it:
Like me today, Ed had dealers he recommended. I was, in fact, one of them for several years. When I decided to do a radio show myself, I called Ed and asked if he had an issue with it. He graciously said “No, we’ll probably make each other better.” I explained to him I didn’t want to do what he did and I knew I couldn’t. My goal was to have an automotive show that was 100% caller focused, and a place listeners could get a perspective from the Owner of a big dealership. As usual, Ed was correct. We did make each other better.
What set Wallace apart was his willingness to tackle issues that went beyond horsepower and pricing. He was known for consumer advocacy, often digging into topics others avoided. One of his most notable efforts involved uncovering and pressing officials about a massive Texas driver’s license data breach, showing that a car show could also hold institutions accountable when the public interest was at stake.
Colleagues and listeners recall his dry humor, his storytelling flair — sometimes accompanied by background music — and his ability to make even complex topics feel manageable. Ed was true to his beliefs, always. He would not allow a podcast of his show, he always said it would hurt his ratings. He wouldn’t allow his segments to be distributed, like his popular feature: The Backside of American History.
In keeping with his wishes, no formal memorial service is planned. His wife, Judi Smith, said he wanted to quietly “fade into the sunset.” Still, his absence will be felt. For decades, Ed Wallace helped North Texans navigate not just the car business, but the daily journeys that define our lives. Long after the final broadcast, his voice remains part of the road.
As he would say at the end of every show: “And with that. I’m Ed Wallace.” Yes, you were sir, and there will never be another. Rest in peace Louis, and thank you for making me a better broadcaster.
Photo Credit: Cumulus
