The first story I ever wrote was for the school newspaper in fifth grade. It was about the inauguration of President Reagan. It made the front page. The seed had been planted. I wanted to be a writer!
In high school I joined yearbook and later became the editor. I wrote, I cropped photos. One day I was taken downtown to the Tracy Press building to work in the office on the press machines and with the cropping tools. I will NEVER forget that day. The smell. The awe. It was a wonderful, magical place for me.
In college I joined the school newspaper and my interview of the English department head made my advisor laugh "you my dear caught a side of him few have seen" he said to me and I smiled for days.
How or why I never became a real journalist (at least not yet) I am not sure.
There are journalist and writers I admire. Others I cannot stand. I'll leave the list of those I cannot stand for later.
Peter Jennings was one I admire. That voice. The times we saw him during Desert Storm and 9/11 sleeves rolled up, fatigue in his face, tears in his eyes. He was a fine example of what a journalist should be. If you are able to read some of his books I suggest you do.
The news reports Mr. Jennings has passed tonight. He was 67. We'll miss you Peter.
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