Newspapers - Life And Death

It's no secret that newspapers are dying -- I've heard it periodically since I came into the business in 1974. But Bob Greene's latest book, "Late Edition: A Love Story," puts it on the table for all to see. And like any truly good love story, it draws me in and makes me sad that the object of affection has a limited life span.

Greene is the guy who wrote a syndicated newspaper column from Chicago for 31 years  and among other things became lead columnist for Esquire Magazine, served as a correspondent for ABC TV's Nightline and has authored a handful of books.

Bob got his start in the early 1960s as a copyboy for his hometown newspaper, the Citizen-Journal of Columbus, Ohio. And that's where this story starts and spends most of its time.

I'm about a decade -- and millions of readers -- behind Greene. But I can certainly associate with his early years. I began as an intern at the Spencer, Iowa, Daily Reporter in the summer of 1974, then worked there for a couple of years, first as a reporter and then as Sports Editor.

As a copyboy at the Citizen-Journal, Bob cleaned pasteposts, ran out to buy lunch for his editors and ran other errands. He submitted a few stories that were printed. By the time I began my career, copyboys were no longer necessary.

But Bob worked in the sports department the following summer and then in the news department, writing local stories. His life was the essence of journalism and it was a grand old time. These were the days of clacking typewriters and teletype machines, a handful of strict deadlines each day and a lot of camaraderie among associates. Work wasn't only hard and intense, it was full of fun and laughter.

Often, in "Late Edition," Bob writes about how it was not only a pleasure to go to work every day but also a priviledge. He didn't want to be anywhere else. He loved seeing his byline in the paper, was disappointed when a friend didn't read a story he'd written (he fantasized that everybody read his stories) and was fascinated that after each day's paper was put to bed, "you got to do it again."

Bob talks about how newspapers ruled the news business, how the press was allowed to go anywhere (he once walked right into the emergency room to chat with the victim of an armed robbery without having to wait for a "press conference") and how he knew everyone on his street always started the day by reading what they called "My Newspaper."

Time, however, is the perfect equalizer. Now, 45 years later, Bob can look back at those wonderful days and see  the clues that not all was well with the newspaper biz.

Sure, in those days in Columbus, Bob and others at the newspaper would poke fun of local TV newscaster, Hugh DeMoss, calling him "Huge" and saying that his words just floated off into thin air while stories in the newspaper were "permanent." They didn't stop to think how "Huge" TV news would become.

As Bob goes through the years, computers come into being, The Citizen-Journal goes out of business (in 1985) and the Internet comes of age. These were all clues, if we'd been paying attention, that newspapers' time was numbered.

A love story, indeed. And a tragic tale.