Of all the jobs in all the world the city editor’s slot is the zaniest.
Period.
Part mother, part mentor, part counselor, part rewriter, part buddy, part taxi, part pro wrestler.
I spent a little time under that title myself. What a ride.
In most places the “city editor” title is actually gone. Today they are called things like “community team leader” and “metropolitan editor.” But the zany job will always be around.
Metro editor is the title we use here. And Craig Brown is our guy.
A few years back the title and job here was held by Larry Peterson. He fit right in as one strange dude. But he was wonderful.
He was a bit of a throwback as city editor, with passion and desire and a, ah, vocabulary that could keep most Human Resources Departments busy full time.
Larry moved back home to Georgia and works for a newspaper there. But he has also fulfilled the dream of almost every journalist. He has written a book. It’s called (dramatic pause required here) “City Editor.”
Now everyone wants to leave a mark on this world before they go. A bit of a legacy, if you will.
When I was city editor in Fort Myers, Fla., I was pushing hard for short, snappy leads. A tornado struck the city and we were mobilizing to cover it.
A proposed lead for the story hit the bulletin board, supposedly from me.
“Wind.
“Lots of it.”
Oh well. We all can’t have great legacies.
Larry’s legacy to The Columbian was the term “monkeyfish.” He applied this label to virtually all weekend community events. Larry would be in a news meeting discussing stories and he’d say something like “We’re planning on covering that monkeyfish over at the park on Saturday.”
No one remembers if Larry stole that term or coined it, or even what the heck it meant. But we loved it and continue to use it.
Now Larry has a new book and a new legacy. And the book is really quite good.
Larry called before the book was published and asked me to critique the rough version. While on the phone he added this tidbit:
“Lou, you’re going to see a lot of you in the managing editor’s character. But the managing editor is a woman.”
Well, OK. I can get in touch with my feminine side.
The managing editor’s name in the book is Anita Sue Crockett. And she’s a good person. (I was the managing editor here while Larry was here.)
But this book isn’t really about the managing editor. It’s all about City Editor Jack Donahue. And if the managing editor in the book is kind of me, the city editor is certainly kind of Larry.
But hey, it’s fiction. So that means Larry was a bit of a lady’s man in the book. (I guess we can all dream.) Notwithstanding that, this book is well crafted and held me to the end. From saving one reporter, to firing another, to uncovering corruption, it has a lot going for it.
Check it out at www.publish america.com/books/3797.
It’s better than monkeyfish.
Lou Brancaccio is The Columbian’s editor. He can be reached at 360-759-8024, or by e-mail at lou.brancaccio@columbian.com.
