journalism


23
Feb 18

Then the Men in Black moved to the Bermuda Triangle

There was text here, but “they” removed it. It must be part of a larger conspiracy, which was the subject of today’s episode of the podcast. My former boss and longtime friend, Ken Booth, joined me to talk about conspiracy theories. No tinfoil hats are necessary here, but do keep an eye out for black helicopters.

And if you still haven’t been abducted by UFOs being flown by Bigfoot, go check out Ken’s projects. He’s the co-founder of Shorpy.com, which is full of historical photos and fine prints, and of Vintagraph.com, which h as loads of great posters. We have a couple at the house; they’re high quality.

Ken hired me a lifetime ago, when I was getting out of broadcasting. He was the editor at al.com and I worked for him as a producer for four-and-a-half years. I was always appreciative that he took me on. I learned a lot, and I was able to to be helpful to the project. We did some great stuff there, some incredibly important hurricane work and of course sports and I managed to work in some political coverage and some new storytelling features. And then I left, and he eventually moved on as well. They’ve done some other great things there since then, but it started with Ken, and those early sales and design and editorial teams. My time there served me well for what was to come later.

If it sounds like a grand scheme, it probably is.


16
Feb 18

Sometimes Friday is just another Thursday

I can’t tell you what this is. If I told you what this is, as the spy movie joke-cliche goes, I’d have to kill you.

Which is, of course, ludicrous. If I told you what that is I would only have to take out a reduction of your salary, powers of the purse being very humbling things, of course.

Which is also rather silly. Oh, alright, it’s a remote control. You’d only guess it from the left and right, forward and back buttons. And maybe from the peeling label, which is no longer accurate. One presumes it once was a remote that lived in some room labeled 207. Why, in the new building (which is 111-years old, mind you) there isn’t even a room numbered 207. We have a 206 and a 208. And across the hall there’s a 206A and a 209, but no 207. It sounds very Harry Potteresque, I know.

Also, I’ve never seen the door to 206A opened. No idea what’s inside. Maybe that’s where they keep all of the extra remotes. Maybe it is is a closely guarded state secret.

Anyway, tomorrow I’ll be at work, because we’re doing a Saturday event for incoming students and it will be my job to stand around and point and occasionally talk to people or plug things in when there is a need for plugging in things. I will also hand this remote and a microphone to various people. It is decidedly less Potteresque, I know.

Today on the podcast, Carley Lanich, the editor-in-chief of the campus paper, joined me once more to talk about an investigative series being produced by The Indianapolis Star.

Lanich is a very recent winner of a Hearst Award. She won a $1,500 scholarship for her investigative story that examined the university’s sexual assault investigation process. Her’s was a four-parter, and it is was an impressive thing, year-long thing. She’s a sharp young woman on her way to big things, no doubt, and I’m always glad when she comes on my little program.

Anyway, off to your weekend. Mine starts sometime tomorrow afternoon. I hear they store them in Room 207.


6
Feb 18

A bunch of journalism and storytelling stuff

We turned our eyes north, to Wisconsin, to talk with Green Bay Press-Gazette reporter Jonathan Anderson today. He joined the program to talk about a brand new ruling from the Wisconsin Supreme Court. It has to do with unions and votes and public records, and it could have some long reaching implications.

Yesterday’s story was about a man, his mop and criminal intent. The one before that was about iPhones, and before that we talked gerrymandering. The variety is such a neat thing, I think. Also, these shows are short. The idea is you can listen to this while you’re running an errand. You don’t have to be running a marathon.

This morning Dan Wakefield visited the television studio. We recorded a brief interview with him. Here’s a man who covered the Emmett Till murder trial, had a full journalism career, then wrote two best sellers and then had both of those books turned into movies. How do you get that down into a seven-minute conversation?

Wakefield is one of those journalists you study in school. He always gets asked, and is forever reciting, the lead to one of his stories for the magazine “The Nation.”

The crowds are gone and this Delta town is back to its silent, solid life that is based on cotton and the proposition that a whole race of men was created to pick it. Citizens who drink from the “Whites Only’ fountain in the courthouse breathe much easier now that the two fair-skinned half brothers, ages twenty-four and thirty-six, have been acquitted of the murder of a fourteen-year-old Negro boy. The streets are quiet, Chicago is once more a mythical name, and everyone here “knows his place.”

We should probably send the same amount of time on the themes of insularity, maintaining the status quo, parachute journalism, long memory, the other Others, and irony, which are all found in the last three paragraphs of his story:

It took the twelve jurors an hour and seven minutes to return the ver­dict that would evidently help close the gap between the white and col­ored races in the land of the free and the home of the brave. Tradi­tion, honor, God, and country were preserved in a package deal with the lives of Roy Bryant and J. W. Milam.

Reporters climbed tables and chairs to get a glimpse of the ac­quitted defendants, and the news­paper, magazine, and television cameras were aimed at the smiles of their wives and families in a flash­ing, buzzing finale. Then the agents of the outside world disappeared in a rush to make their deadlines and the stale, cluttered courtroom was finally empty of everything but mashed-out cigarettes, crushed paper cups, and a few of the canvas specta­tor chairs that the American Legion had sold across the street for two dollars each.

The trial week won’t be forgotten here soon, and glimpses of the “foreign” Negroes who don’t till cottonfields but hold positions as lawyers, doctors, and Congressmen have surely left a deep and uncom­fortable mark on the whites of the Delta. But at least for the present, life is good again. Funds are being raised for separate-and-equal school facilities in Tallahatchie County and on Wednesdays at lunchtime four of the five defense attorneys join with the other Rotarians of Sumner in a club song about the glad day “When men are one.”

Wakefield’s interview will be a part of a program next week. I watched two other shows being produced this evening. They’ll make it online at some point this week, I’m sure.


1
Feb 18

All about shows

There are a lot of things I like about my little show. I hope there are things other people like too, but it is good that I like some things about it since I’m, you know, doing it. One of the things is that I can get students involved. Today’s guest is my third student in the last few weeks, which is great.

The other thing I like is that these shows, because I leave the topics up to the guests, vary widely. So here’s Dominick Jean, who is the news editor of the campus paper, and he’s talking about gerrymandering.

Another thing that I like is that when sorta semi-apologized for this topic I got to tell him he should never apologize for his interests. And then he gave me what was, I thought, a really nice conversation. So check that out.

Some other things students have done this week:

They did the sports show tonight, and the other two on Tuesday. They’re all works in progress, and they’re all coming along at varying speeds. There was to be a third show on Tuesday, but it was overcome by underwhelming events. These things will happen. Tomorrow another group of IUSTV students is in rehearsal for a new late night show. And on Sunday the station is producing a concert.

So let’s count: four studio shows a week (one isn’t included above because it is for air on Sunday), a twice-monthly campus government show, a brand new late night show, a new concert series in conjunction with the campus radio station. And that doesn’t include covering something like a dozen sports they’re covering on campus and around the conference. Student media, man, they are getting some stuff done.

I may just turn in that paragraph at the end of the year.

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25
Jan 18

Sometimes you dress up for news, I guess

You can take a tie off with one hand. It is an art and has, and demands, a certain flourish. And if you do this in front of a cat, she’s going to want to play with it. It is a cat’s way: chase the moving silk thing the hooman puts on some days. And if she plays with it, that’s fine, until she produces her claws. And then you have to do something else. So I dressed her.

We have the best dressed cat in town, I’m sure.

This afternoon I was joined on the show by a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist. We talked about some of his students work, which is impressive. You can hear about it right here:

You can also find other episodes of The Best Story I’ve Heard Today on its new host site, Podbean. All of the current run have been transferred there and now I have to see about getting this thing syndicated in a few different places. After that: advertising. (Maybe?)

We’ve talked, on that show, a few times about the Larry Nassar trial. Here’s a story worth reading, it offers its own masterclass on interviews in reporting:

I saw the confident Larry Nassar, buoyed by a reputation as a caring miracle-worker. I saw the charismatic doctor, a man with a legion of adoring supporters. I saw the smooth Nassar, a master manipulater (sic) who had convinced police and university officials that earlier complaints were misunderstandings — and went on molesting young girls.

At times in the about 30 minutes we were together, he came off almost arrogant. That was particularly true as he tried to convince me the “misunderstanding” was the result of the women’s ignorance of his sophisticated medical work. His demeanor didn’t come as a surprise. Nassar was revered in gymnastics and highly regarded internationally as a sports medicine physician.

But at other times, I picked up a different vibe. When we first met, Nassar essentially pleaded that we not write a story. He even indicated he could provide dirt on USA Gymnastics officials. As we talked, particularly when he wasn’t directing the conversation, Nassar came off as much more socially awkward. Faced with a question, he would stammer. His eyes fluttered. They’re the kind of nonverbal cues I look for during contentious interviews.

This young woman is pretty incredible:

And, as the Indy Star reported, it started with an email.

Some more tweets:

And some good news from Las Vegas:

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