memories


6
May 15

End of the Crimson-year party

Two classes today. Stayed late to go over some things with a small handful of students before their final. Drove off to get the sandwiches I always buy at the end of the year: Roly Poly. Got stuck in traffic and when I got back on campus the end-of-the-year party was already underway.

We had two staffs in there this year, the outgoing and part of the incoming. It was a lively, chatty, fun affair. The has-beens told the up-and-comers secrets about the job. Some of them lingered and told stories about what it meant to them, which was lovely.

I walked them all to the door, and gave each one a little letter. Each one was different, but each said how thankful I was of the effort they’ve put in, how proud I was of the work they’ve done. I hope they are proud too.

And then there were just a few of us. And I realized that, with Sydney graduating, our newsroom lost its institutional memory of Purvis, the rock:

Crimson

The short version: On our way to a conference last year, Clayton, the then-sports editor, was reading interesting facts about every town in Mississippi we passed. Our favorite was Purvis, basically because of everything he read aloud from Wikipedia.

So on the way back from Purvis, and getting a bit punchy, we stopped there for this picture, Sydney, then-news editor, Zach, then-editor-in-chief and Clayton, who was the sports editor. Because we were punchy we dug up that chunk of asphalt from off the side of the road. Clayton or Sydney one named it Purvis. It now sits in a place of honor in the Crimson newsroom.

Crimson

And now they’re all off into the great wide world.

A little bit later Sydney walked out of the door. She was in the hallway looking in and three members of next year’s staff were in the newsroom were looking out. There was a joke or two and a bye and then she walked down the hall, through the fire door, down the steps and she was gone.

I closed the newsroom door. Emily, the new editor-in-chief who served so ably as the news editor this year, looked at me and we both took half-a-moment to compose ourselves.

And I thought, you get into all of this — the late nights, the too-cold office, dealing with people who don’t understand what you’re trying to do, thanking people who do understand, the good leads, bad headlines, working through stories you don’t care about, wondering each week what they left uncovered — you do all of this because you figure that you have something to offer students. It is something important, you figure, just as it was important when you learned the same things when you were in their place. It is important because the work they’ll one day do with it is important and civic and useful. And so, then, you are useful and maybe formative. And that is worth every 2 a.m. that you find yourself still in a cold office, because you are there for them. Only when you watch them go do you really realize what they did for you.

All of that was in my head as I cleared my eyes and watched Emily clear her eyes and then launched into the first meeting with the new staff.

I’ve taken to looking at this newsroom as both a laboratory and, these last two years, as a spectrum. Sydney and Zach and Katie before them started something these people will continue and improve upon. I have high hopes for that because here’s another group of young people who are sitting in the newsroom at 7 p.m. on the Wednesday of the last week of class.

That’s passion.


23
Apr 15

The hummingbird competes with the stillness of our air


30
Mar 15

Things to read

The Monday update is pretty close to becoming a “Things to read” tradition. It comes about because I need something here, Mondays are usually fairly busy and, often, I have links waiting to be put somewhere. All of this is in play today, and so here we are.

Some of the historians on campus are running a blog about interesting moments in Samford history. This is a great anecdote, March Madness: Dead Cats and Burning Bulldogs:

In addition to the attempted arson of the Sherman Oak, the Birmingham News reported a few Howard girls being woken up in the middle of the night because they heard men chanting “Down with Howard, Up with Southern!” When they looked outside, there were three crosses on fire in front of the burning tree–an ominous warning and a symbol of Aryan superiority during the Civil Rights era.

By gameday, tensions had reached their boiling point. With less than four minutes left in the first half of the game, Howard was beating Southern 33-24. Chriss Doss later recalled the chaos that unfolded when a Southern player named Glen Clem took a cheap shot at Howard player Rudy Davidson.

Two private schools. The 1950s. Who knew?

This is really cool, Loachapoka High robotics team to compete in World Games:

The robotics team has been around for a few years, according to Thompson. Robert Harlan has been the head coach for two years.

Eight of the program’s 25 students will make the trip, Thompson said.

The school’s robotics program begins in third grade and goes all the way up to 12th grade, according to Thompson.

I did not know this was such a thing. I wonder, now, if this is the big threat to the brick-and-mortar car dealerships that we saw for music stores, video stores and all of the other things disrupted by the web: Online car dealership expands delivery service to Birmingham.

It takes a village … Boy’s ‘military haircut’ spurs suspension threat, outcry:

A young boy’s high and tight haircut meant to honor his soldier-stepbrother earned him the threat of suspension from an elementary school named for a Medal of Honor recipient, and the fallout from the incident has led a Tennessee school district to increase security measures.

There are educators and then there are “educators.”

Some journalism links:

HBO-Vice Deal Should Scare the S*** Out of TV News
The evolution of NPR’s picture stories
Math for journalists: Help with numbers
How news sites handle content around sensitive stories
30+ free tools for data visualization and analysis
Online Video Exploding Globally

Here’s an interesting essay on Periscope, the new livestreaming platform that Twitter recently purchased and rolled out for use. It is quickly — possibly, perhaps, who knows? — taking over the universe. Or is that still Meerkat? Maybe both. Perhaps neither. This essay is about the activity, not the branded platform. And there’s a great passage in this piece:

(T)his isn’t about money, this is about the bleeding edge. And that’s what’s so exciting about Meerkat and Periscope, it’s all brand new.

Like I watched a sunrise in New Zealand. A cove in Australia. Someone making coffee in Amsterdam and a snowy spring in Siberia. Call me a voyeur, we’re all voyeurs, and right now regular people are letting you into their lives, just for the fun of it, and it’s strangely riveting.

They do it for the love. No one wants to be alone anymore. They want hearts and comments and interaction. They’ll perform if you show up and comment.

And who are these people?

Nobodies. Those with time. Who are not reading the newspaper, who listen to the tribal drum and want to participate.

Huh? Huh?

Finally, it seems hard to believe, but it has been 10 years since Mitch Hedberg died. I saw him for the first time before anyone really knew who he was. I don’t even think he’d been on Letterman yet. I took a date to the Comedy Club and he was the attraction and the show was good. He just got better and better over the years, until his far-too-soon death. Here’s one of the many videos of his comedy you can find online.


28
Mar 15

A day in Georgia

Today we were at the New Hope memorial for Southern 242 – Georgia’s largest aviation disaster.

The Southern 242 committee just unveiled their upcoming memorial sculpture.

Around the pedestal, the committee says, will be the names of the 72 fatalities and 22 survivors of the 1977 crash.

A terrible storm, bad radar brought on by the storm, a bad forecast, complete systems failure on the plane and human error on the ground led to the crash. The pilots, former military aviators, then steering a glider, desperately attempted the unprecedented: landing a DC9 on a country road. Witnesses on the ground say Capt. William McKenzie and co-pilot Lyman Keele, with 23,000 flight hours between them, put their front wheel on the center line of the two-lane road. But for power poles. The wings hit poles, snapped trees and spun the plane out of control.

When the plane came to rest, emergency workers couldn’t get to the site for the debris. Survivors were carried through that house, into the backyard, through the woods and to a parallel road. Everyone that made it into that house and out the back door survived.

At the memorial, they prayed and sang and rang bells for the dead. Over the years it has turned into a reunion. I wrote about all of this a few years ago.

We had a late lunch here, a nearby north Georgia barbecue joint that had good brisket.

And then in walked this guy:

Isn’t that a great photo?


26
Mar 15

The saunter of spring

Oh, sure, it is spring. But we are going to have one of those years, it seems, where two seasons are battling it out. Spring will win eventually. Winter isn’t giving up easily this year. Winter is the guest that doesn’t know how to leave. Maybe it is a season that can’t pick up on the social cues. Or maybe it is looking for the graceful exit, the last joke, a tender poignant moment or an uneven silence. But it won’t show up, and so winter continues to linger inside our door. There are still a few unnecessarily chilly days and too many clouds ruining sunny afternoons. But spring will win out. The clues are all here.

dogwood

Spring will win out. Unless summer rides in at a full gallop.

Put in 2,000 more yards at the pool this afternoon, a mystifying exercise of good and bad experiences. I’m getting better in some aspects of my swim and seem fairly static in others. It all comes down to breathing and technique, two things which I don’t do very well.

But at one point, around 1,100 yards or so, my shoulder and collarbone hurt so bad that I was nauseated. That didn’t happen when I broke it or had surgery or anytime since. I was at the wall and wondering what the pool deck protocol was for violent sickness. It was a weird moment. But it passed with a few more laps. And then I went upstairs to the locker room and then out and upstairs again to an indoor track and ran three miles.

They were playing volleyball on the gym court below the track. Someone launched a ball into the rafters, where it got stuck. I was able to free the ball, but I was not invited to play. Just as well. I haven’t played volleyball in years and years. I bet I could still serve, though.

Things to read … because serving up links is one of the things we do around here.

I mentioned this in a class yesterday and it received a nice reaction. StoryCorps Using $1 Million TED Prize to Become an App and Go Global:

For the past decade, StoryCorps has amassed more than 65,000 recordings of ordinary individuals interviewing one another and telling extraordinary stories.

In doing so, StoryCorps has amassed the largest collection of human voices ever recorded, but is still limited by the time and expense of its approach, which relies on professional radio recording equipment and dedicated volunteers to act as facilitators.

Thanks to a $1 million prize from the TED conference, the organization is turning its process into a smartphone app in an effort to ensure even more stories get recorded, especially outside the U.S. The free app will allow anyone with an Android or iOS device to record an interview and have it uploaded for distribution and archiving into the Library of Congress.

But everyone is talking about Facebook today. Here are some important links:

What brands and publishers need to know about Facebook’s developer conference
Facebook Takes Aim at Google’s Ad Tech Clout With LiveRail
The beginning of the end of Facebook’s traffic engine
It’s the relationship, stupid

“Now is the time to get access to the data that will build more than today’s cash flow but will instead build tomorrow’s strategy,” Jeff Jarvis writes in that last link. Data is important. I hope the point gets across. We seem to be at the event horizon for all of the things Jarvis has been discussing for a decade or more.

You’ve heard about this for a while now, too. Coming, a major shift to mobile ads:

Mobile advertising is increasing at a shockingly fast pace.

This year, it will make up nearly half of all digital spending, up from just under 25 percent two years ago. And by 2019, it will account for 72 percent of online dollars.

It will also make up more than 28 percent of overall ad spending.

And yet so many aren’t ready.

This is both unfortunate and terrific. As professional news outlets vacate state capitols because of budget constraints, student journalists move in to fill the gap:

When Jessica Boehm interviewed a state senator for Arizona State University’s Cronkite News for the first time, she worried about saying the wrong thing or asking a question she shouldn’t ask.

Researching bills and interviewing lawmakers weren’t tough tasks, she said, but “knowing you were talking to someone that wielded a lot of power and probably didn’t want to talk to you, that was really intimidating.”

Boehm reported on the state’s spending transparency, bills on a texting-and-driving ban and off-highway vehicle enforcement during Arizona’s 2013 legislative session for Cronkite News, a student-produced news organization with a wire service that serves about 30 print, broadcast and web outlets and a 30-minute nightly news broadcast for the local PBS station.

Boehm spent eight months co-writing a story for News21, a special projects arm of the Cronkite School of Journalism, that compared Arizona and Connecticut’s gun legislation after shootings in both states — the 2011 Tucson, Az., shooting that killed six people and injured Arizona representative Gabrielle Giffords, and the 2012 Newtown, Conn., shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School that killed 20 students and six teachers.

The Washington Post published the story in August 2014. She said it took most of the semester at the statehouse to get comfortable interviewing lawmakers, but after the experience she is now able to “ask what I need to ask and not need to sugarcoat anything.”

That’s a long excerpt on an important story about watchdog journalism. And my good and bad reaction to the idea — pros leaving the capitol and students stepping in — which has been around since pros started abandoning capitol coverage a decade or more ago is simple. There’s nothing better than experience and there’s nothing better than experience.

I covered a state capitol for the better part of a year. I was a professional journalist by then, but still very young. The bureau offices had been turned into storage spaces because there were only two of us still visiting the capitol on a regular basis: one newspaper guy and one broadcaster. Others would show up when big stuff was about to happen. They got a tip or a release or they found out through us. But the two people were the only ones covering an entire state’s lawmakers and one of them was very young. But I was a much different reporter after that year there. There’s nothing better than experience.

We live in the future. :

Under command of that small spot on Jan’s cortex, the machine hums into action, picking up an object in its robot hand and moving it to a shelf or table.

At first the researchers kept the arm across the room, worried that Jan might inadvertently punch herself. As Jan gained skill, the University of Pittsburgh researchers brought the arm near Jan’s side to let the paralyzed woman fulfill her greatest wish.

In the video shown at the Bevill symposium, Jan grabs a bar of chocolate with her robot arm. She haltingly brings it to her mouth and, then, takes a big bite.

“One small nibble for a woman,” she proudly says. “One giant bite for BCI (the brain-computer interface).”

There’s video, and you just know that was the most delicious chocolate she’s had in a long, long time.

We find ourselves railing against the insertion of writers into the stories they write.

I call it Grantlandization, since the folks at Bill Simmons’ project do it with almost perfect consistency. But I have a new, easy to grasp standard. It goes like this. You can’t Grantland, you can’t insert yourself into a story, until you can do it like this. It is an almost-maudlin P.J. O’Rourke piece remembering John Hughes, so good luck.