I walked into a classroom today with one idea about a later thing and when I walked out of the room an hour later I knew other things. A meeting had changed. One student had a story and another had a joke. A third had big news. A lot can happen in a calm hour. Some days the idea of now is an obviously thin construct and some days now is a solid and statuesque thing.
There are at least four full statues and a bust on campus, and this fact amuses and bewilders me.
One of them is an abstraction, three of them are representations of real people, including an ancient president of the institution, a statue which once stood at the U.S. Capitol. Another is a football coach, which, OK. And then there’s Ralph Beeson, who was a big donor and has the family name on quite a few nice things around campus. His statue is centrally located and figures into a lot of pictures and general merriment around the place. Also, it has the great honor of being the voice behind one of the best Twitter accounts on campus, even if some of it is school-specific.
Anyway, I recently stumbled upon this 1988 clip which explains a bit about the man and the then-new statue. The Twitter account asked us to republish it. Great idea, alas, it was from The Birmingham News, and not ours.
We were discussing our publication tonight when someone poked their head into the newsroom and offered us free food. There was a focus group down the hall and journalists are always hungry for leftovers. I grabbed a few things:
I’m going swimming tomorrow, and I won’t eat them all at one time, so it works out, right?
Things to read … because reading always works out right.
There’s one truly incredible story worth reading, it is a bit long, but absolutely worth it. And I mention it here so you’ll keep looking below. First, though, a few journalism links:
24 takeaways from the ONA London conference on mobile
Los Angeles Times reorients for digital
CNN Pushes More Original Web Video
How to capture fly-by digital visitors
Boston Herald, Franklin Pierce combine for exclusive coverage
And now the story worth spending a few minutes to read. It defies excerpting, really, so here are just a few of the first paragraphs. A Bulldog’s battle:
It was morning in Lithuania and Andrew Smith was getting dressed. As he put a shirt on, he caught an oddity in the mirror, a weird bump at the base of his neck just above the collarbone. The former Butler center was a newly married man playing foreign hoops in a faraway land, just three months into his first professional contract and living with his wife, Sam, and dog, Charlie.
Thinking little of it then — Smith had battled mono and enlarged lymph nodes during his freshman year at Butler — he brushed aside any serious concerns. Over the next two weeks, the bump got bigger and more uncomfortable. The scare increased when pressure crept on his insides, near his chest, and soon enough breathing became a conscious task. Lithuanian health care is not optimal, and the team physician spoke broken English, which did not translate at all to nuanced medical terminology.
[…]
In a foreign country with doctors they did not trust, the Smiths weren’t getting clear answers. Tests were not immediately coming back with conclusive results. An initial biopsy came back negative for cancer, but still, Andrew reluctantly agreed to minor surgery because his neck’s discomfort was preventing him from being able to play.
Smith was — get this — awake for the procedure and could faintly feel doctors tugging with metal tools at his numbed neck as they attempted to remove the blockage in his throat. What at first blatantly felt like the wrong decision turned into a mistake he was lucky to make. Without successful surgery, more evaluation was needed. Andrew’s neck was coral-red as he and Sam spent their first Christmas together as man and wife. They Skyped home, telling their parents Andrew was cancer-free. But a few days later, Smith’s growth got grotesque. He was living with a rock attached to his throat and a perma-red neck. He underwent a full body scan, and as they awaited the results, Andrew rung in 2014 feeling like his chest was shrinking by the day. He was unable to sleep.
Maybe it was his heart? No. For now, Andrew’s heart was fine.
That part, that “for now” part, that becomes important. But “for now” is always important.
