This post was first published in the Wilson Times
July 27, 2019.
My wife and I have been
going through boxes and throwing away things that we once thought we’d like to
keep forever, or at least a year. Among these boxes are several boxes I brought
home from my career as a newspaper editor, going back to 1975. In 34 years as a
newspaper editor, I wrote something like 1,700 columns and close to 9,000
editorials.
These are not exact numbers,
just approximations of the number of editions the newspapers I edited had published
and my usual writing schedule. I’m sure I took some days off (but I often wrote
editorials and columns in advance so as not to burden someone else with having
to do my work while I was away).
My wife suggested that I
should save the columns and other items that dealt with our children and our
home life, so that our children might recall their younger days. Two of our
children were born while I worked for newspapers. Our youngest child was 29,
the oldest 37, when my newspaper career ended. My wife thought compiling these
personal memories in some printed form, such as a book, would be an excellent
gift to our children.
So I’ve been pulling musty
clippings of columns from dusty file folders and deciding whether my topics
were anything our children would care about. The jury is still out on that
question. Whether anyone else ever reads these articles, my tedious exercise in
separating wheat from chaff has been eye-opening to me.
I discovered I wrote a good
number of columns of a personal matter, such as the surprising joy of seeing
our children learn to read, learn to drive a car (scary!), welcoming children
into “adult” conversations, seeing children move out of the house and become
independent (sort of), and so on. I tried to write columns that were not
strictly personal but would find an audience with people who could identify
with my experiences. Comments from friends and strangers indicate that some of
those columns resonated with other families.
In my review process, I
discovered that I often used my columns to explain newspaper issues to our
readers. As editor, I was the final arbiter of what news went into the paper. I
wrote about how we made news decisions (a daily meeting of editors discussed
the importance of our available news articles). I wrote about anonymous callers
and letter writers who would criticize or threaten me and the newspaper, often
because they didn’t understand what we were trying to do, and sometimes because
they just had their facts flat wrong.
Good example: An angry woman
called to say I was a racist because we didn’t run an appropriate photo of the
new Miss America because she was black. I told her I was sure no racial
discrimination was involved in Miss America coverage, but she insisted that we
ran a large photo of white Miss America on the front page in color but ran a
small, black and white photo of the black Miss America a year later. I told her
I honestly couldn’t remember how we ran the previous year’s photo but I would
check. I flipped through the bound volume of newspapers and found out the
caller had it all wrong. We had run a two-column photo of the black Miss
America, the same size as the white Miss America got. Both photos were in
color.
She wouldn’t give me her
name or phone number, so I couldn’t prove to her that she was wrong. I had to
settle for writing a polite column, which she probably didn’t read. But I got
it off my chest.
When the newspaper changed
its policy and began endorsing political candidates, I wrote many columns
explaining the decision and reminding readers that an endorsement is just one
entity’s opinion. Other opinions are valid and can be published in the paper as
guest columns or letters to the editor.
I’ve also gone through about
30 years of calendars I had kept as editor and as a nonprofit manager. They
brought back a few memories, but mostly they proved that I couldn’t read my own
scribbling done while hurriedly writing down an event or appointment. No point
in keeping any of those calendars. At first, I was disappointed that I had made
no notation when my parents died, my siblings died, my children married, and
other life events occurred.
Then I realized these were
calendars — appointment reminders — not diaries. No need to keep any old calendars.