My Favorite Newspaper Story

After knowing about the inspirational story of I think this is the perfect time to reveal who am I ! I was a reporter for almost 40 years and I wrote a boatload of stories, mostly investigative stories, mostly for The News & Observer in Raleigh.

Some of them required months of work and the help of a team: another reporter, sometimes two; a researcher; a photographer; a graphic journalist; a database analyst; and an editor, sometimes more than one.  Some of those stories –a lot of them — were long, published as a series with a lot of photos and graphics.  Series are not necessarily good, mind you, just expensive.

My favorite story  was not like that.

I  reported and wrote my favorite story alone, start to finish, in a day or two. And I knew before I started it would be a home run, that working people were not going to tolerate what the State of North Carolina had done.

*  *  *

Steve Riley, my partner at that time, and I had just finished a series about North Carolina’s pathetic Workers’ Compensation  Act.  We had made a compelling case for reform and, a few weeks later, the legislature fixed some of the problems we had identified.

I was feeling pretty good about our series, and likelihood that the legislature would act, when I got a telephone call from a 63-year-old woman who said to me — these are her exact words, best I recall: “You don’t know how the system works, do you.”

Every once in a while, after a story I had written, or helped write, was published, someone would call me and say pretty much the same thing.  My response was always the same.  I’d say to them, “Well, I guess not.  How about you explaining it to me. ”

I meant it.  I wanted them to school me, and sometimes they did.

Barbara S. Wiggins
Barbara S. Wiggins

The woman who called, RN Barbara S. Wiggins, had been a lead nurse two or three years earlier at the Murdoch Center in Butner, N.C., caring for bed-ridden mentally handicapped patients.

She told me that the state required her to take a  self-defense course during which she was injured — an instructor threw her down and accidentally tore the rotator cuff in her right shoulder.

Mrs. Wiggins continued working for another four months with her arm in a sling.

“There were days that I did not feel like going in, but they were so short staffed, and I was told…’if you can get in, you can work.’ And some days I worked 12 hours.”

When the pain became too great, she had an operation to try to have the damage repaired. Afterwards she learned that she would never be 100 per cent again — she had sustained a permanent 25 percent loss of use of her right arm.

Murdoch Center, in effect, fired her.

“It’s almost as if they preferred to pay the comp than let you come back because I did everything I could to get back to work,” she told me.

Murdoch Center insisted that she be 100 percent recovered to get her job back, knowing that was never going to happen.    The state’s decision puzzled Mrs. Wiggins because she had worked four months with her arm in a sling.  She told me she could have done 99 percent of her old job, everything but lift patients.

So what did Mrs. Wiggins do?

She had become a nurse at age 49, after her marriage broke up.  When the state abandoned her, she enrolled at Wake Technical College, learned accounting, and landed an office job at about half her old pay.

“I have no pension.  I’m not eligible for retirement.  I’m not eligible for disability,” she told me. That’s how the system works.

Was I licking my chops to write that story?  Does a bear live in the woods?

Postscript: The nurse’s story was published on the front page of The N&O on a Sunday. Early that morning Secretary of Human Resources Phillip J. Kirk Jr. read the paper and, at 6:15 a.m., he wrote a memo to his department’s personnel director.

“I don’t generally base decisions on media coverage — but this woman has been grossly mistreated. While we may have met our legal responsibilities, we most certainly did not meet our moral and common-sense responsibilities.”

By Friday Kirk’s department had found Mrs. Wiggins an administration job in another state hospital and the Office of State Personnel had begun drafting rules to protect state employees in similar circumstances.

Coming Friday: The Best Day Off Ever

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Miss Mattie

It rarely snows in my neck of the woods, in Knightdale, N.C., but when it does it reminds me of Miss Mattie, an old lady who worked where I worked, at The News & Observer in Raleigh.

When a big snow or ice storm was forecast, The N&O would rent hotel rooms near the paper for reporters and editors, so we could walk to work the next morning.  You could go home but if you did you darn well better be able to get back to work the next day. I always stayed in town.

Occasionally a snow or ice storm slipped up on us and when that happened you were still expected to get to work — we published 365 days a year.

Miss Mattie was way too old to make it to work on her own so The N&O would send two men in a four-wheel drive vehicle to pick her up , literally, and bring her to work.

I don’t know what her regular job was but on snow days she answered the phone and took messages from employees who called to say that they were not coming, that the roads around their houses were impassable.

One day I had to make that call.

The hill, on a warm, snow-free day.
The hill, on a warm, snow-free day.

There’s only one way out of my neighborhood, up a hill at the end of my street. And when there’s snow and ice you can’t drive up that hill.  That’s all there is to it.  Not even in a four-wheel drive.

Miss Mattie answered the phone. Her voice sounded like she looked, old. I told her there was no way my car was going up that hill.  And eight miles was too far to walk.  

She replied in her creaky, old voice, “That’s OK, Pat. I understand. I’ll tell them the weather too bad for you to come in today.”

I knew exactly why they had assigned an old lady to take messages from people who couldn’t get there.  I also knew how she got to work on snow days.  But she was pushing 80 and however she got there, she was at work.    

No, wait.  Wait, Miss Mattie,” I said.  “Tell ’em I’m coming, just tell ’em I’ll be late.”

Postscript: I was walking down the shoulder of U.S. 64, toward Raleigh, when a kindhearted soul stopped and gave me a ride into town.

NOTE: The N&O published every day no matter what.  In March 1980, when our presses were heavily damaged in a fire, we published. Rival newspapers came to our aid. The Durham Herald printed our paper that first day and The Fayetteville Observer printed it the next two days, until we could get four of our presses back on line begin limping along on our own.

Coming Monday: The Source Of The Problem