Saturday, May 28, 2016

Time out



          Good evening, 919 Gang. Mary and I are taking a little vacation. No kids or grandkids, just the two of us. But we plan to have fun anyway. We plan to return Friday (6/3), and I will file that night.

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          GLENN GRANT writes:
          Thanks to those who cleared up for me who the curmudgeon was in The Union newsroom. A quick Google search turned up his obituary below from the New York Times. Another article from UPI reported that he was managing editor of the Sacramento Union in the early ’80s.
Richard H. Growald; Journalist,
Published: April 1, 1993
          Richard H. Growald, a columnist at The San Diego Union-Tribune and a former correspondent for United Press International, died Tuesday at his brother's home near Fort Worth. He was 61.
          The cause was lung cancer, his brother, Martin, said.
          Mr. Growald grew up in Fort Worth. He reported for the Fort Worth Press, which no longer exists, before leaving there in 1952.
          His 40-year career with U.P.I. took him from Boston to the wire service's bureaus in London, Germany and Moscow. He covered Vietnam and the White House before joining The San Diego Union in 1982.
          He is survived by his brother

          JOE GANDELMAN writes:
          I stand corrected it was RICHARD Growald. His columns were quirky and he often did his own cartoons for them. He looked like a character out of central casting for an eccentric and several times a week came in with pastries which he offered to some. He was a diabetic and the pastries he brought in for himself and others was not the best decision (but, then, he couldn't have given out rice cakes so quickly). On a less charitable note, they got him, I believe, from Time and some staffers reading some of his columns couldn't understand the decision behind that. Some of his columns were very very quirky.

          ARTHUR SALM writes:
          Re Dick Growald and pastry: After the merger -- I'd been a Tribune guy -- Growald, with whom I'd never exchanged a word, would cruise by the Arts section with a box of baklava and hand out goodies to ... well, certain folk. Okay, former Union folk. Invariably he'd pause by my desk, glower down at me for a few long seconds as if considering my possible baklava-worthiness, then decide, Nah, and move on. I enjoyed the performance, although that's probably because I don't like baklava.
          One day Growald stopped to chat with Bob Pincus, who pointed out -- kindly, this being Bob Pincus -- that something Growald had written, based on info Bob had given him, wasn't accurate. Growald fluttered a hand and said, "Oh, I embellish."

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          REBER: Steve Prosinski asked about the provenance of the phrase “have a catch.” Last night John Berhman said he, as a New Jersey youth, used the phrase.

          ROBERT J. HAWKINS writes:
          Couple of days ago, when our power and WiFi bonked, I randomly picked up a hard copy of Richard Price's novel "Lush Life" and got to page 5 when I spotted this during a sarcasm-drenched exchange by cops on a Lower East Side prowl:
          "I never had a dad," says Geohagan.
          "You want one of mine?" Daley turns in his seat. "I had three."
          "I can only dream of a dad who'd take me to a Howard Johnson's after my game."
          "Hey, Sonny." Lugo catches Geohagan's eye in the rearview. "Later tonight, you want to have a catch with me?"

          Price, a Bronx native, is known for his pitch-perfect dialogue and New York City-northern New Jersey backdrops, in novels that include "Clockers," "Samaritan" and "Freedomland."
          I suspect "have a catch" is pretty common in that area.

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          ANTONIA (TONI) ALLEGRA writes:
          Tossing the gauntlet: Jack, your statement, "The measure of your story’s value is determined by John or Jane Q. Public, not another newsy," was the most important of all messages in today's (5-28-16) 919 communication. I'm with you!
          At this time of encroaching advertorialism in journalism, we must remember for whom we write. Our readers are key to an honest, open delivery of news, be it hard news, criticism, food, society...you name it. The trust readers have a right to expect between writer and reader is essential. I am aware that in the world of food writing today, some papers/magazines/videos/podcasts allow advertisers to whisper into the ears and pockets of some publishers and/or editors, who then turn to freelancers of staffers (if there are any) and "suggest" a particular product be mentioned in a story. Is this editorial? I don't think so. Also, much like products shown in films that line the pockets of producers with PR money, the line between advertising and editorial seems to be blurring.
          This was discussed openly during the April Int'l Ass'n of Culinary Professionals conference in LA which I attended. Gotta say, I was disgusted. Being told by panelists - magazine, blog and video editors - that it's ok to show the product in a photo shoot piqued my attention. Hearing from a former major food magazine art director that showing a certain Greek yogurt face-out thrice in an "editorial video" was acceptable and there was, of course, no need for an "advertorial" moniker anywhere with the video grabbed me. Snooty I'm not. But honest with the reader I am.
          Perhaps Jeannette Branin is channelling this former Trib food editor, but I'm disgusted. Being an advocate for editorial food writers and writers in general, having directed 22 years of the pro-editorial Symposium for Professional Food Writers (www.spfw.org) and knowing that food is not the only journalistic niche to be so affected by encroaching advertorialism, consider this a gauntlet tossed to any of you who want to talk about this. Someone needs to start teaching journalism 101 again, including the differences between editorial and advertorial. What is YOUR definition of, "editorial?" Do you believe we just need to lay down and accept advertising influences?

          REBER: Toni forces me to fess up. Last night I recommended a Sports Illustrated story and gave you a link to it. I really enjoyed the article. Today I looked at the magazine again and realized the story’s purpose was to sell copies of the author’s photos. A subhed tells you where to buy the photos. No, it’s not pure advertorial, but it’s not right.
                                                                   
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          JACK GREGG writes:
          When I worked with Chafin Wallace on the Trib, I found him to be a top newsman and a nice guy. He told me he had been the town drunk early on but worked his way back to soberness and good citizenship. Trib people who went over to The Union often didn’t fare well. A case in point was Gene Gregston. When Krulak switched Gene and Fred Kinne as editors, Gene wanted to take Leo Bowler and Larry Lusitana with him but Brute vetoed it. The Union duty made poor Gene an alcoholic. Probably the same thing happened to Chafin.

          DAVID HASEMYER writes:
          Never knew Chafin Wallace. Don't really care about Chafin Wallace. But I gotta say, the name Chafin Wallace fits the title of managing editor perfectly. Chafin Wallace, managing editor. It just rolls off the tongue.

          REBER: His full name was Eugene Chafin Wallace, and I agree that he was wise to drop the Eugene.

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          RON HUTCHERSON writes:
          Regarding the open-mindedness of the owners: A year or two after James Copley's death, I was required to call on his widow to confer with her about a UPI matter. Soothing an upset over another staffer's blunder was the directive to me, and that meant a lot of small talk. We eventually turned to C. Arnholt Smith and his criminal prosecution. Her unforgettable question to me was, "You don't think Arnie was guilty, do you?"

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          REBER: Looking at the birthdays coming up before I return, let’s wish Happy Birthday to Scott Linnett, May 29; and Bill Arballo and Barbara Moss May 31.

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          GENE CIECHANOWSKI forwards:
          Austrian skydiver Felix Baumgartner jumped from 128,100 feet above the Earth. Seven GoPro cameras recorded the jump and GoPro just released this incredible footage, showing what it was like from Baumgartner's point of view. After about three minutes you will see the altimeter and the airspeed indicator come on the screen. 

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          GENE CIECHANOWSKI forwards:
          The burden of war



P.O. Box 2239
Ramona, CA 92065
U.S.A.

Heroes all



          Good evening, 919 Gang. A recent Sports Illustrated story really interested me, and I thought it something photographers (and others) might enjoy. Neil Leifer talks about some of his experiences as a sports photographer the past 57 years. My first paying photo job was for Sports Illustrated. It was the 1955 NCAA basketball championship game, and I was thrilled to be that close to K.C. Jones and Bill Russell. No, Sports Illustrated didn’t trust me with a camera. I held a strobe and made sure I was always away from the photog to provide fill flash. Can’t remember the pay, but I suspect it was $5, standard for freelance work at that time. Here’s the link to the SI story:

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          PAT ROGALLA writes:
          This Memorial Day when we put our right hand over our hearts and remember those who died saving our Nation we cry a little. When in the stillness Taps is heard we are grateful to these United States. We are us. I do not want to sound preachy but it is not just the dead who are heroes. When this Nation is at war between us and “them” we are all heroes. Our thoughts are in a special place known only by us and sometimes we share.
          For me there are fresh ones of my two granddaughters arranging flowers on the grave of an Air Force grandfather they never met. When I was a child I spent many days visiting my grandmother. One special Memorial Day I was at grandma’s when her stepfather visited. I was 9 years old. He was very tall, white wavy hair and beard and a Civil War veteran. It was a very long day and he talked most of the time. It didn’t take long for me to realize he was very proud to fight under Generals Grant and Sherman. He enlisted in Company C of the 96th Ohio Infantry in August 1862 and was mustered out in July 1865. He liked traveling and talked about attending a reunion of the Union and Confederate soldiers at Gettysburg. He was a proud man who walked in parades when asked even though he used a crutch which I noticed when he came in. He never made a move without it. And I asked him about doctors in wars. He said he was in a hospital and just got over it in a short time. He said he was proud to be with General Grant at Petersburg when the war was all over.
          Strange, years later when I asked my husband Ed – after WWII, “what was your best thought” when the war stopped, he quickly said, “How many chances in life are you asked to be noble?” Mark on that Wall – Edward Carl Rogalla and C. H. Kinney (or as my grandmother referred to him “our guest “Grandpa Kinney”).

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          CHUCK BOYD writes:
          Today, Netflix started streaming the Adam Sandler film The Do Over. In it, I have a quick, funny scene with great face-time.
          The initial teaser trailer came out a month ago and confirmed that my scene, as the husband of the "Hospital Screamer" (Sheila Lynn Cochran), had made it past the cutting room floor. There were three takes so a different angle appeared in the teaser.
          Sheila posted a clip of us and I share it in case you are NOT able to stream the movie on Netflix. I can, and will watch the entire film with friends this evening.
          Hmmm, looked around but I don't have any red carpet....

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          KENT FREELAND writes:
          Glenn Grant's inquiry about a newsroom character he recalls as Raoul Gripenwald contains a description that sounds remarkably like Richard Growald -- a curmudgeonly former foreign correspondent with diabetes-induced foot problems.

          MICHAEL GRANT writes:
          Glenn Grant, the curmudgeonly character you remember must have been Dick Growald, who was definitely curmudgeonly and definitely a character.

          JOE GANDELMAN writes:
          I think Glenn's referring to Robert Grunwald, I believe. The Union hired him from Time and he wrote quirky stories with his own artwork. He had diabetes (which I believe did him in, and he always brought pastries to the paper and gave them to people in good favor with management). I may have the spelling wrong, but when I left the paper on Nov. 7, 1990 he was still there. Very colorful but as time went on he was not considered a stellar hire by many. He wrote one of a kind reports and columns. Definitely an original.

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          JIM BOX writes:
          I find it interesting, but not surprising, that so many U-T people had such differing experiences with Chafin Wallace.
          Chafin was my patron saint within Copley Newspapers. He was my editor/counselor during my time in the Copley Editorial Careers Program in 1964-65, and he gave me the opportunity to go from reporter on the Union to city editor of the Daily Breeze in Torrance when he moved up there as managing editor a year or so later.
          What I thought would be a three- or five-year stay at the Breeze and then a return to San Diego turned into a 45-year career at the community journalism level in Torrance. Without Wally’s guidance and encouragement, I doubt that I would have made such a move.
          He was a man of many emotions. He came from rough-and-tumble newspaper days in Wichita, Kan., and you didn’t have to spend a lot of time trying to “read” Wally. When he was upset about something, he was very direct in letting you know about it. But he was also generous with his vast experience, and would share his thoughts and support any staffer who reached out to him.
          After three or four years, Chafin and his wife decided to move back to Chula Vista where they had kept their family home. His only goal at that time was to enjoy retirement and spend time in the desert “howling at the moon.” To make that transition, he became editor of the Borrego Sun. I was very surprised when he took the job of Union managing editor. At that point in his life, this seemed like an interim step at best.
          Wally was hardly a tee-totaler when I worked with him, and I have no idea if his drinking became a problem later on. But he drank no more than seemed common back in those days (referring to Al JaCoby’s article republished recently). It’s regrettable that those former staffers who have such negative memories of Chafin did not have the opportunity, or take the time, to get to know him better.

          RICK SMITH writes:
          Chafin Wallace may have been the only Union managing editor who didn't quake in the wake of "God", a.k.a. Jack Murphy. Wallace's neighbor in Chula Vista was Tim Smith, St. Augustine wideout, and the Saints got good coverage as result. Smith, no relation, went on to play at Nebraska and in the NFL and had a very-late-in-career cup of coffee with the Chargers.

          MICHAEL GRANT writes:
          I remember a couple of things from Jeannette Branin’s story about her 50th Kansas U. reunion. She was ambiguous, as all reunions, especially the later ones, bring out ambiguity. Class members were given commemorative pins. Then there was a chant, Jack, which you will remember. Slow and solemn, with the words “Rock chalk, Jayhawk.” The story ends with Jeannette standing by the Kansas River and heaving the commemorative pin as far as she can out into the river’s waters. Great story. In The Union files, late ‘70s.
          Here’s a link to her Christmas story about Kansas children never, ever, seeing Santa Claus.

          REBER: That story is something a lot of us can relate to. Recommended reading.
 
          MICHAEL GRANT writes:
          Poor Al JaCoby. I was assigned a tourism situationer and I wrote that tourism was soft. He said write it more positive. So I got pissed and wrote a lede like, “Area cash registers are playing jolly jingle tunes as favorable tourism winds waft across San Diego blah blah blah.” I wrote 15 inches, mimicking Eileen Jackson’s social style. I was amazed the next morning to read the Eileen-style story in the paper exactly as I had written it. That day Al sent me a Xerox of the copy and wrote a note across the top: “Very funny. I should have put your BYLINE on it.” Above the lede, he had penciled: By EILEEN GRANT. Typical pre-Jeannette chaos.


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          PRESTON TUREGANO writes:
I remember Helen Copley’s “No sacred cows” meetings she conducted with employees in the first floor U-T Building auditorium, and the topic was discussed even though her meeting with Tribune staffers occurred before she had the Union crowd in. So, the word was out at The Tribune about Jeannette (what a fussy spelling) Branin’s midnight phone call to Helen. But I would not have known Branin even if I had collided with her in an elevator. As for “sort of snooty and disapproving” as Welton Jones described her, in my opinion that applied to another Union grande dame who was called “Queen Janet” behind her back. Arrogant woman!
At the U-T, sacred cows (now, we all know that label comes from the Hindu religion’s worship of cows, which are not to be touched even if they walk into your home and take a big…) disappeared just for a while. They made a comeback with Sea World. Coverage of that “institution” by Tribune reporter John Lamb probably led to him being laid off when the 1992 merger came because Sea World’s top dog (whale?) came to complain to then Tribune editor Neil Morgan, who pulled Lamb off the beat. And let’s not forget local car dealer Bob Baker complaining to Herb Klein about movie critic David Elliott’s use of the dealer’s advertising slogan, “It’s so nice to be nice,” in a review. Klein was the high priest of post-merger U-T sacred cow worship – the Chargers and Padres, for which he attacked business columnist Don Bauder for his columns warning readers of the evils of public dollars-financed stadiums, etc. Don ended up being suspended for a week by Karin Winner because he continued writing on the controversial topic after he was ordered to stop. Plus Don had the courage to ask why Herb, who was on the Stadium Authority Board, didn’t have a conflict of interest with new stadium advocacy and being U-T Director of Editorial Policy.
And thanks to Frank Green for reminding me of Amy Krulak’s meddling when it came to arts coverage. In August 1992, I wrote a column about how many times jet planes interrupted Starlight Musical Theatre’s performances in that Balboa Park amphitheater directly in the path of planes coming in for a landing at Lindbergh Field. Each fly over caused the cast of whatever musical was being presented to stop/freeze until the jet passed. I called the airport control tower to get my stats and learned a jet, on average, between 8 and 11 p.m. (Starlight performance time) came in every five minutes – 38 roaring jets. Sure made it hard to enjoy a show. Amy was furious. She told me that was not true. Someone was lying. Someone was trying to put Starlight out of business. “Who’s your editor?” she asked. I told her. Nothing happened to me. Truth prevailed. Having never met her in person, I wondered if she might be the sacred cow we heard talk of.
Lastly, at the U-T many a newsroom denizen had a drinking problem. Some of the Tribuners were repeat 502 (DUI) offenders and wore each arrest on their sleeve. The dangers of drunk driving apparently escaped them. Even the late U-T publisher David Copley was alcoholic. Every now and then, some of the addicted were women. It was an equal opportunity problem. Eventually, the U-T created the Employee Assistance Program to help all types of substance abusers. Does anyone know if that effort was also available to people with an anger management problem?

          REBER: I have no knowledge of the events, but I feel I should point out that Welton Jones’ reporting on the sacred cow meetings said Branin was not the person who called Helen Copley. And he did not say the call was at Midnight.
          When Gene Williams was editor of the Tribune, the sports section was not allowed to use the word “seedings” in regards to tennis or basketball, etc., tournaments. That was because Gene’s wife did not understand what the word meant. And we assume Gene couldn’t explain it to her. That ticked me off at the time, but now that I am older, married (and hopefully wiser) I look at it differently. The newspaper, and particularly sports, uses a lot of words and phrases that are never explained. It is natural for spouses to take an interest in what is in the paper. To this day, Mary will open the conversation with “Do you know what YOUR newspaper did today?”
          As news people we tend to rely on the opinions of our editors or the person at the next desk. Look at how many newspaper contests are judged by other newspaper people. Why? The measure of your story’s value is determined by John or Jane Q. Public, not another newsy.

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          DAVID FARMER writes:
           I think most of us remember this iconic map of the USA drawn by Saul Steinberg in 1976:

 
          Now, there's a satirical map of Great Britain which insults as many sections as possible. Below, I'll give my best guesses about the locations and their qualities:


          Cardiac arrest, Scotland. Gang warfare, Glasgow. Crazy Christians, Northern Ireland. Cheryl Cole, Newcastle. (Coles to Newcastle?) Walking holidays, Lake District. Depressed people, Yorkshire Moors. Thieves, Liverpool. Sheeposexuals, Wales. Inbred farmers, Norfolk. Chavs, Essex. Here be dragons, London south of the Thames. Waitrose, Kent. San Francisco, Brighton. Second homes, Cornwall left, Isle of Wight, right.
          Experts like Bernie Hunt can correct me on locations and significance.
          My take: The Scots eat a lot of meat, including haggis, a revolting dish made of sheep guts. Glasgow seems to be Scotland's organized crime center. Cheryl Cole is a British singer who was born in Newcastle, and apparently its only claim to fame. The Lake District is beautiful (I've been there) but very wet in winter. That's how they got the lakes.
          Northern Ireland is a British, Protestant colony, militant about keeping its identity; Catholic Ireland wants it back. Liverpool has a rep similar to Glasgow's. The Yorkshire Moors can be bleak. Sheeposexuals seems to refer to romance with sheep. Norfolk is isolated and agricultural. Chavs are what we'd call trailer trash.
          Dragons seems to mean south of the Thames is crime-ridden, or perhaps unexplored by Londoners. Kent is called the Garden of England and Waitrose is rated the UK's best supermarket; how that tracks, I don't know. Brighton attracts liberals and free spirits. Cornwall and the Isle of Wight are picturesque.
          And to depict the Cotswolds as full of nothing but farmers is simplification in the mode of Saul Steinberg.

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          REENIE SHEA writes:
          Go ahead and yell at me for being thoroughly disgusted with "entitled" brats who trashed Shasta Lake because they had nothing more productive to do. I hope mommy and daddy are proud of their little darlings, the future movers and shakers of the world. Many of the culprits seem to attend the University of Oregon in Eugene which is ironic considering Oregon's fierce environmental stance. Who buys expensive camp equipment, behave like animals and flee in the dark? Many homeless in Portland could have benefitted from tents, coolers, etc. if not shit upon by pampered babies. What goes around, comes around. When I lived in Eugene and Salem, Oregon during the mid-1960s Californians were shunned so I say to these brats -- we do not welcome you.

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          JOHN BERHMAN writes:
          Hi, Jack: Thanks as always for putting together the 919 Gang blog. On the "have a catch" theme: I grew up in northern New Jersey, and my father, who was a semi-pro baseball player, and I would often ask each other, "Do you want to have a catch?" The answer would always be "Sure" or "Yeah," in Jersey parlance.

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          REBER: Tonight we send Happy Birthday (May 28) wishes to Colorado and the home of Don Bauder.

P.O. Box 2239
Ramona, CA 92065
U.S.A.