Dear Old Friend,
Welcome back to Arkansas where you belong. It was good to see by your letter, delivered the old-fashioned way by snail mail, that you still write well wherever you are at the time. Like all newspapermen, you're of the peripatetic tribe, moving from one job, one locale, one paper to another and, like Black Beauty, faring well or ill depending on the quality of our master at the time. Only in this trade they're called publishers. They all have their own strengths and weaknesses, virtues and eccentricities, some more pronounced than others, and those of us fortunate enough to have encountered the best of them--not once but twice in my case--can count ourselves lucky beyond words, including the ones we write.
I believe I understand the wanderlust, having given into it a time or two in my wasted youth, only to come back from New York and Chicago exhilarated as a convict who's just been sprung. And is headed for native soil, having learned by experience that I do not flourish above a certain degree of latitude. Hey, Porter! Please open up the door/ When they stop this train I'm gonna get off first/ 'Cause I can't wait no more./ I'm gonna set my feet on Southern soil/ And breathe that Southern air. It'll be good to get together after the crush and madness and to-do lists of the holidays. 'Tis the season, you know, and it always hits like an oncoming freight right on raucous schedule. We can talk about old times and new over a long, slow single-malt Scotch, or in your case maybe sour-mash bourbon.
It was good, too, to get news of Dena Battle, Chris' young widow. I wish I had gotten to know her better when they were here. It was just like her to put you up to writing me a letter catching up on where you've been and what you've been doing. She's not just a thoughtful lady who has good ideas but sees to it that they're carried out. And like any well-trained male, you snapped to. For that matter, I wish I'd gotten to know Chris better, for we had him for all too short a time. His editorials for the paper were a joy to edit, or rather not edit. Editing some of them would have been not only unnecessary but a sacrilege. An editor's best decision in some cases may be not to edit at all. Just stay out of the way. So it was with a lot of Chris' copy.
I'm indebted to Chris' memory for a priceless inheritance: a story about his grandfather's taking him fishing back in Georgia. I'll remember it as long as I'm in this line of work. Because it pretty well sums up what this whole, strange opinionating business is all about.
It seems Chris had just started writing editorials and was pretty darned impressed with himself, his new title, and the whole business of Shaping Public Opinion and so pompously on. He was telling the old man how important and responsible and all that his new job (and therefore he himself) was. You see, he explained, deciding what stand to take on the Crucial Issues of the Day isn't just a matter of making simple decisions, but carefully weighing all the pros and cons before taking--what's the current term for muddying the issues?--a sophisticated, nuanced position. Because, don't you know, it's not a question of just choosing between right and wrong, black-and-white. There are so many shades of gray in between, and a newspaper has to take them all into account before delivering its solomonic opinion, don't you know?
The old man just made another cast. He didn't say anything. For a while. Then all he said was, "Son, there's always a right and wrong. You just have to find out what it is."
Yep, that about sums it up. And young as he was, and would ever be, Chris Battle knew wisdom when he heard it. And could spot the vanity of vanities of it all when the rest of us editorial writers would put on airs, though he was much too discreet to say so. He didn't have to. His manner and manners said it all: self-deprecating, wise beyond his years, and a fine story-teller. (Did I mention he was a Southerner?)
I think about his story regularly, which is when I'm tempted to take refuge in murky generalities and pious platitudes in an editorial instead of doing the hard work of thinking through an issue to the right-and-wrong of it, its intractable core, and trying to scramble up to a second level of thought beyond the immediate pros and cons and usual platitudes. If you're not going to break new ground, why plow at all? In the words of the old Negro spiritual, Keep your hand on the plow and hold on!
So thank you, Chris Battle.
As the product of a long line of matriarchs, and having been civilized to the extent possible by my late wife, I think I know what you mean about women like Dena Battle. They are indispensable guides.
And thank you for bringing me news of another alumnus of the editorial page, Tucker Carlson, that is, no news at all, for Tucker always remains Tucker--every buoyant, ever courteous, ever charming. Here's hoping he's still wearing those bow ties. They suited him, and of how many young men can that be said? He remains a winner and an assurance.
You be well, old friend, keep enjoying life, and cheers!
-- Inky Wretch
Paul Greenberg is editorial page editor of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. E-mail him at:
pgreenberg@arkansasonline.com
Editorial on 12/14/2014