“Something Like?”

Richard M. Nixon came to Charlotte campaigning for president in 1968, when I was a reporter at The Charlotte News.   When Nixon made a stop at the local television station, WBTV, I was there.  I was assigned by my newspaper to the death watch, to be nearby in case someone shot him. Or shot at him.

This photo was made on that same trip with the national reporters did have an opportunity to question Nixon.
The Big Boys gather around Nixon at an impromptu press conference on that same trip.

Thank goodness that didn’t happen, but that assignment gave me my first closeup look at national reporters who follow presidential candidates around the country, some of the Big Boys of my old craft.  Back then almost all of them were males.

The speech Nixon gave was embargoed, which meant it couldn’t be reported until it aired.  So some of the national reporters left to get something to eat and left a friend to cover for them.

I was there when the Big Boys began returning, meeting their colleagues in the lobby of the station, asking what Nixon had said.

I heard this exchange:

Big Boy #1: “What’d he say?”

Big Boy #2: “He said, a, a, wait a minute,” and he turn the page of his notebook. “He said, ah, can’t read it.” He turned another page. “He said something like…”

It was pivotal moment in my career:   Something like?  Something like!  “Something like” isn’t good enough.  Word for word, what did the man say?

From that day on, for almost 40 years, I taped recorded almost every face-to-face interview I conducted. 

Postscript: I was only accused once of a misquote and that involved a telephone interview — I never recorded phone conversations.  I don’t criticize reporters who do tape phone calls, didn’t then and don’t now. They have their way of doing business, I had mine.  Here’s the problem. If you record phone conversations pretty soon you get to be known for that.  That kind of reputation would have made some sources reluctant to talk with me on the phone for fear I might be taping them.  I didn’t want that.

Coming Friday: Handling Bad News

 

 

Squelched

Hearts is my favorite card game but I play Rook every once in a while, usually at a family reunion or, in this case, at Snowbird.  And, truth be told, when my niece, Pam Stith, is my partner we usually win.

I don’t like playing with the 2’s, 3’s, and 4’s, but my son, Mark, and his friend, Conan Shearer, wanted to play with all the cards so Pam and I said OK, make yourselves happy.  Those cards don’t matter a whole lot anyway; when you play Rook nothing much matters but the Rook itself. 

Pam is a really good player and if we got the Rook as many times as they did, anywhere close to as many times, we’d win, regardless of how many cards we played with. Of that I was pretty certain.

Conan, L, and Mark Stith: they were dealt the Rook 7 out of 8 hands.
Conan Shearer, L, and Mark Stith: Rook magnets.

But we didn’t get the Rook at all. They got it all three hands and won the game with over 500 points to our whatever.

So, I said, OK, let’s take out the 2’s, 3’s, and 4’s and play again. And we did.

This time they got the Rook four of the five hands it took them to reach 500, and won again.

That’s when Conan said to me, as politely as can be, “Would you like to take out some more cards?”

Postscript: Shearer graduated from UNC and then earned an MBA and Master of Science in Information Management from Arizona  State University. He is now an executive at Exxon.  Whether he still gets the Rook seven out of eight hands is unknown.

Coming Monday:  Something Like?

The view from the top of Mark's tower.
The view from the top of Mark’s tower last week.

NOTE: Went to Snowbird again last week [Nov. 1-5], 11 of us, friends and family. Pitched some shoes, played some Hearts –but no Rook– and ate like royalty.