Behind the Headlines

By Charles Slat
A few weeks ago, I wrote a column about Frank Upham, whose idea for a flag-marketing campaign led to the creation of the Pledge of Allegiance. I got a bit of feedback from that column, most from people who thought it was a pretty interesting story.
But Monroe residents Richard and Jeanne Micka provided some additional information that shed a little more light on the tale.
The Mickas related how Elizabeth “Aunt Bett” McWebb, Monroe’s own author of the Little Brown Bear stories, would talk about an uncle of hers who was a real crackerjack.
Mrs. McWebb, of course, was special in her own right — a masterful storyteller in addition to being a kind and gentle lady. She truly was one of Monroe’s treasures and was known for enthralling hundreds of schoolkids with her tales. That’s one of the reasons there’s that Little Brown Bear monument to her near the Dorsch Memorial Library in downtown Monroe.
What the Mickas told me, that I didn’t know, was that Frank Upham — the guy behind the masterful Pledge of Allegiance flag marketing campaign — was that crackerjack uncle of Mrs. McWebb’s. And that’s one of the reasons the Mickas made sure the National Flag truck came to Monroe to honor Aunt Bett after she passed away.
You may recall that Aunt Bett’s full name was Elizabeth Upham McWebb.
Now you know the rest of the story.

By Paula Wethington / paula@monroenews.com

Attention National Public Radio listeners: Car Talk, the hugely popular automotive advice show hosted by brothers Tom and Ray Magliozzi, is becoming an animated feature.

Check out the details at Click and Clack go to Hollywood.

By Paula Wethington / paula@monroenews.com

A delegation of Monroe Evening News editors, reporters, sports writers and photographers will have a call-in night from 4 to 8 p.m. Thursday April 17.

The newsroom staff would like to hear what you think about your newspaper, take your questions and feedback.

The news phone numbers will be:

• 240-5766
• 240-5767
• 240-5777
• 240-5778

The sports phone number will be:

• 242-1100 ext. 393

If you can’t call in that night, but would like to talk to someone about the newspaper, editor Deb Saul can be reached during business hours at 242-1100 ext. 289.

By Paula Wethington / paula@monroenews.com

We have a new piece of inspirational art at The Monroe Evening News’ downtown Monroe office. It’s a huge banner featuring The First Amendment, hanging down what used to be the main stairwell from the newsroom to the old main entrance, but is now a stairwell that is used mostly by employees.

I didn’t get a really great picture of it. Either I had to zoom in close enough so you can pick out the words, or zoom back out so you can get the full effect. But it really does look neat, and you’ll want to ask to see it when you visit our office.

(and the rest of it does continue down the stairwell ….)

By Stephanie Ariganello; stephaniea@monroenews.com

I’ve just got to tell you - I love the text message scandal story that’s been a-brewing in Detroit the last two weeks. First off, it’s juicy. It’s got all the good makings of a prospective Law & Order episode. And while it’s true that there are actual people at the heart of this who may end up wounded - not just a good story - it’s can still be a positive thing.

I won’t lay on you the whole self-righteous “the people who suffer in this are the people of Detroit.” We know this. But it seems to have broken open what some have always suspected: a long, winding trail of corruption in Michigan’s largest and hardest pressed city. It’s only when the light shines and we’re able to see what we’re dealing with that change happens.

But aside from all that, I love it because of what it does for newspapers. There’s all this talk of newspapers grasping for air, clutched little hands held fast over our news-mongering hearts, trying to understand the what and why of our own story. There is a general bad feeling about media, a mistrust, or even worse a dismissal of traditional news outlets. And then along comes the Detroit Free Press story on the explicit text messages. Suddenly, everyone is paying attention to the printed word again.

When the story first broke, I delighted in reading the comments on the Freep forums. Most skewered and barbecued the mayor. Some of them defended Kwame and commented that they finally came up with something, after intense scrutiny and wouldn’t we all have something that we would like to hide?

Or they verged on the edge of “this is a private matter between him and his family.” This stance gulled me. One person asked if the Free Press invaded the Mayor’s and his aide’s privacy by taking info off of their phone/pagers and wondered if it was legal. It’s fine to question, but it should be made clear: the devices they used in their affair were city issued. That means, every text, every phone call, every directory assistance is funded by taxpayers. And, additionally, what the texts seemingly revealed is that both people involved perjured themselves, possibly costing the city upwards of $9 million - and counting. That is nowhere near a private matter.

Bloggers can blog, commenters can comment, but what it really came down to is reporting. The release of the messages, obtained through the Freedom of Information Act - something any person in the country can and should use - was the first step. (Albeit a step that took much effort and tenacity - which it shouldn’t since it’s public info…) Now we have a person who abused city resources who has resigned, a mayor who is being investigated, a full city council investigation into budget matters and city spending and possible criminal charges to be filed. Isn’t this what newspapering - the watchdog of the media - is all about? Reporting what has been overlooked, seeking truth in matters that affect all people of a particular place whether they realize it or not and shedding light into the dark corners?

Yes, websites and other media can cover issues like this (and the Free Press took full advantage of its site during this story), but they didn’t. And when stories break elsewhere, on different media that is, it doesn’t seem to generate quite the same amount of buzz and permanence.

So maybe print is going out of fashion, but let’s not forget its purpose.

By Stephanie Ariganello; stephaniea@monroenews.com

I happened to be on call yesterday - just in case something had to be covered or reported on. On Christmas, it usually has to be something big to warrant a call in.
So, I was a little shocked to get a call from both my editor and the editor of the paper. However, when they informed me that our second-generation editor and former president of Monroe Publishing and The Monroe Evening News, Grattan Gray died earlier that day, it was clear why.

I would be the one putting together the story on his life and his death. Talk about intimidating.

Knowing that Mr. Gray has such an enmeshed history in not just our paper, but the community at large, I came in last night to read through clips and old articles to get a sense of who he was and what he did in his life. The more I read, the more I realized just how enormous a task it is to summarize a person, their life and actions and what they’ve contributed to a community. Mr. Gray may be an exception in general, simply because he did so much.

I met Mr. Gray maybe two times since I’m relatively new to the newsroom. I had heard stories and knew he was held in high regard by some of the more esteemed of my colleagues, but I had no idea. He had spent more than 70 years in the newspaper industry - (70!) something that is inconceivable. What I found I really liked about him, as I was reading, was his drive to try new things, to keep things moving and to keep an eye on the little things but only while knowing how the big picture was shaping up.

I’m the first to admit that I’m not the strongest obituary/life story writer (when it comes to newspaper). I get caught up on the whole how would this person want their story to go? aspect a little too much. Plus, space and time are the usual constraints. With someone like Mr. Gray who had been a writer and newspaperman for so long, when I went to type, my fingers wouldn’t move. I was cracking - not something that usually happens to me when under pressure.

That was, until I read a column that Steve Gray, Grat’s son wrote in 1995 when his dad was handing over leadership of the company. The column, titled “From a son to a father:” starts off with the words “thank you.” Steve goes on to summarize kind of how I was feeling in the next few lines. (Obviously the sentiment from a son to a father was beyond anything I was experiencing, but I felt similarly overwhelmed.)

“Ours is a family where words come easily and sentiment doesn’t.” Steve wrote. In journalism, this is the hope - that words flow, but emotions don’t.

“But this is a time when I feel a powerful urge to say something special,” he continued. “There’s so much I could say that I scarcely know where to begin,” he wrote. “So I’ll keep it simple.”

So, that’s what I tried to do. I missed the mark. And my editor did some rewriting - but with the history we have in the newsroom and the collaborative nature of it, we were able to put something together that tells Mr. Gray’s story and also highlights his many accomplishments.

By Stephanie Ariganello; stephaniea@monroenews.com

As I was having my quick breakfast of dried apricots I kept thinking of a poem, referring to dried human ears as dried peach halves. I couldn’t remember all the details, but that description, even years and years later, has never left me.

So I found the poem - which is actually written by a native Detroiter who went to MSU and then grad school at Bowling Green. I’m posting it here to demonstrate the power of writing, the power of descriptions that leave branded spots on our brains. (Note: I had to edit it in order to remove the “f” word, which appears in its entirety in the poem.)

The Colonel

by Carolyn Forche

What you have heard is true. I was in his house. His wife carried a tray of coffee and sugar. His daughter filed her nails, his son went out for the night. There were daily papers, pet dogs, a pistol on the cushion beside him. The moon swung bare on its black cord over the house. On the television was a cop show. It was in English. Broken bottles were embedded in the walls around the house to scoop the kneecaps from a man’s legs or cut his hands to lace. On the windows there were gratings like those in liquor stores. We had dinner, rack of lamb, good wine, a gold bell was on the table for calling the maid. The maid brought green mangoes, salt, a type of bread. I was asked how I enjoyed the country. There was a brief commercial in Spanish. His wife took everything away. There was some talk then of how difficult it had become to govern. The parrot said hello on the terrace. The colonel told it to shut up, and pushed himself from the table. My friend said to me with his eyes: say nothing. The colonel returned with a sack used to bring groceries home. He spilled many human ears on the table. They were like dried peach halves. There is no other way to say this. He took one of them in his hands, shook it in our faces, dropped it into a water glass. It came alive there. I am tired of fooling around he said. As for the rights of anyone, tell your people they can go f— themselves. He swept the ears to the floor with his arm and held the last of the wine in the air. Something for your poetry, no? he said. Some of the ears on the floor caught this scrap of his voice. Some of the ears on the floor were pressed to the ground.

The poem comes from Forche’s book called “The Country Between Us” published in 1981 by HarperTrade New York. (Incidentally, Margaret Atwood had a hand in getting this published - one of my all time favorite authors.)

Ever wonder what it looks like here at the News? Here’s a glimpse of where the magic happens.

If you were me, this is what you would be seeing right now:

A shot of Dean Cousino from the last couple of weeks. Looks like I got him at a good time:

Why are the people on the desk always so intense? Oh, right. That deadline thing. Here are Doug and Jessica, putting together the day’s news back in November (when I originally tried to post this to no avail).

By Paula Wethington / paula@monroenews.com

It’s been a long time since I got a story assignment with the instruction, “wear your press pass.” But because of security details at the Radio Disney concert this afternoon in Ida (story will be in Sunday’s edition of The Monroe Evening News), I needed my press ID to get into the VIP reception at Ida Public Library.

The press pass I usually pull out is in my wallet (actually, my business card works in most situations). But, I do have a copy hanging on a lanyard tag to use as needed. It is useful to be that visible at times.

When I got to the library door, the event staff checked my media credentials and gave me a new lanyard with a card labeled with “VIP: Radio Disney Jingle Jam.” Within a few minutes, another event worker gave me a yellow ticket for the reception and a green ticket for reserved seating at the concert. So, I put all the passes in the concert lanyard and concluded I now looked like a music groupie with everything that was hanging around my neck.

After the reception ended and the audience was waiting for the national show to start, I went inside the library lobby to warm up.

A girl who was probably about 10 years old looked at my array of tags and said, “No fair! You’ve got a VIP pass.”

Her dad started laughing and said, “she’s a reporter.”

“Did you meet Keke?” the girl asked me.

“Yes I did. She was really nice.”

This response resulted in another agonized response from the young fan.

I explained that I didn’t get Keke’s autograph and had only enough time to give her two or three questions. Even a VIP pass doesn’t give you much more time than that, I explained. Other fans want to say hello.

But, I told the girl, if she wanted to meet Keke in person, there was still a chance to do it. There would be a public meet-and-greet with souvenir sales and autograph signings after the show.

This young fan let her dad know she was quite willing to give up her spot for the Night Light Parade so she could meet Keke Palmer. And, I think he was going along with her request.

Here are the tags that got her attention:

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to hear Keke perform live. I had to leave the show early.

But I did listen to clips on the Internet from the entertainers before going to Ida this afternoon and I like Keke’s music.

By Paula Wethington / paula@monroenews.com

Someone at my former workplace always put the Wednesday before Thanksgiving edition on a scale to see how much that monster of a paper weighed. I’ve been asking about this at The Monroe Evening News every year since moving to Monroe. Seems nobody has thought of researching this bit of trivia!

So, after the paper landed with a very loud thud on my porch, I took it to the bathroom scale and weighed myself with and without today’s paper:

That’s 3.5 pounds of newspaper the carriers just delivered to your home or news racks.

I’ve been talking at Monroe on a budget about the sales and deals you can find while shopping in Monroe County. Stay tuned, it will take some time to compile today’s report.

By Paula Wethington / paula@monroenews.com

One of the bloggers at an unofficial Funky Winkerbean fan site that I like to hang out at has posted a link to a New York Times health blog, A Death in the Funny Pages Causes Controversy, that was written Oct. 12.

The article gives an introduction of what happened to the character Lisa Moore as she died of cancer, and includes a few of the clips. There’s a huge list of comments from readers across the country about their reaction to the story line.

by Paula Wethington / paula@monroenews.com

If you’ve been following the Funky Winkerbean comic strip, written by Tom Batiuk, published Sundays in The Monroe Evening News and daily in many newspapers across the country, you know the past few months have been, well, not very funny. In today’s (Sunday Oct. 7) episode, you see a scene depicting calling hours at the funeral home for Lisa Moore with guest book signatures, memorial cards and a photo collage through the years.

Lisa emerged as one of the main characters of the strip in the late 1980s when she became pregnant after a date rape situation. Classmate Les Moore wasn’t the father, but he stayed friends after Lisa dropped out of school and attended Lamaze classes as her birthing partner.

Lisa gave up that son for adoption. Years later, Lisa and Les married and had a daughter of their own.

Fast-forward to the past few months: Lisa Moore, who successfully fought off breast cancer in 1999, learned her cancer returned and was terminal. Her death was drawn in the strip Thursday Oct. 4. Her last words, meant for her long-time friend and husband, were “I love you.”

I wrote a fictional obituary for Lisa Crawford Moore and posted it on this blog Thursday morning. The only detail I got wrong, because I had not seen the upcoming episodes, was where her memorial service took place. I also didn’t know there would be calling hours at the funeral home. But I’m sure there was a luncheon at Montoni’s Pizza!

Tom Batiuk worked out the details for this story several months ago. As you might have noticed with Friday and Saturday’s story line, Lisa’s death is leading up to another jump in the chronology of the comic strip.

In the meantime, Mr. Batiuk compiled the strips about Lisa’s struggle with cancer in his latest book, “Lisa’s Story: The Other Shoe.”

The book launch and signing was held Saturday at Luigi’s Restaurant in Akron. I went, and talked my daughter, who was home this weekend from college, into coming along. (My daughter is not a Funky fan, but she was a good sport.) I also brought book orders on behalf of a co-worker and my mother.

The book “Lisa’s Story: The Other Shoe” includes the story line for another few days past today’s episode. So you’ll want to keep reading the newspapers to learn about Les’s journey to Central Park in New York City.

Now, if you’re a fan, the book signing was a really neat event. It is well known in Akron that Luigi’s is the inspiration for Montoni’s Pizza restaurant in the Funky Winkerbean story line. That’s the restaurant co-owned by Tony Montoni and Funky Winkerbean, where many of the characters have worked at or hung out over the years, and where Lisa and Les got married in 1996.

Luigi’s closed for business Saturday afternoon so that Mr. Batiuk could have his book signing party. The clerks who rang up the books wore aprons decorated with Montoni’s Pizza logo, just like the ones worn by the staff in the comic strip. There also were temporary signs set up at the doors of the restaurant with Montoni’s Pizza logo. And there was a pizza buffet for book signing visitors, with donations requested to Lisa’s Legacy Fund.

When I walked inside the restaurant, I immediately recognized the layout, architecuture and decor that have been shown in the comic strip. The locals also showed me where the band box is on display. “Do you recognize that?” one woman asked me.

And do you remember the Sunday episode from awhile back where Montoni’s was listed in its local newspaper as winning the best pizza award? Funky yelled in celebration, “Dinner’s on the house!” as his business co-owner shuddered at the lost profits. That strip is autographed and hung in honor on the wall. If you look at the other memorabilia displayed on the walls, Luigi’s really has won a local best pizza award.

The book signing party started at 1. We arrived about 3:15 p.m. At that point, the staff had run out of hardback copies of “Lisa’s Story” with only paperback copies still in stock. But everyone I saw stayed in line anyway to get a book and meet the author.

I’ve volunteered at, and attended, enough autograph sessions to know Tom Batiuk must have been exhausted by the time we got to the front of the line (about 4:15 p.m.). But he was still smiling and gracious, signed books with either personalization or not as visitors needed, and posed for photos on request.

The pizza buffet was taken down while I got my pile of books signed. The staff was setting up for dinner customers, some of whom had been surprised to find the restaurant closed for a party. But the waitress offered to go to the kitchen and get some pizza slices for me and my daughter. So I did get to eat some “Montoni’s” Pizza.

And yes, it’s pretty good!

By Paula Wethington / paula@monroenews.com

Reporter’s note: Lisa Moore, one of the characters, in the comic strip Funky Winkerbean by Tom Batiuk, has died of breast cancer. (See my earlier post, Funky Winkerbean fans: yes Lisa Moore is in her last days.)

I have written many obituaries during my career as a newspaper reporter. So as a tribute to one of my favorite comic strips, here is her fictional obituary with as much biographical information as I could pin down or reasonably guess at from the story line. Although I had to take literary license on some details, there really is a Lisa’s Legacy Fund in Cleveland named for the character Lisa Moore.

If you missed some of the recent installments and want to catch up on what happened to Lisa, Tom Batiuk’s latest book, “Lisa’s Story: The Other Shoe,” has been published by Kent State University Press and is available at amazon.com. The book release party will be Saturday Oct. 6 in Akron, Ohio. Details are posted at www.funkywinkerbean.com.

Lisa Crawford Moore

1970-2007

WESTVIEW, Ohio - Lisa Crawford Moore, 37, of Westview, died Thursday Oct. 4 at home while under the care of hospice.

Mrs. Moore had been diagnosed with breast cancer in 1999. She went into remission, but the cancer returned in 2006.

Recently, she made national headlines by testifying in Washington, D.C., to Congress’s Health and Human Services Committee, on behalf of the One Voice Against Cancer campaign regarding the need for funding for cancer research.

Cremation has been held, per her request, under the arrangements of Tom Batiuk Funeral Home and Cremation Society. A memorial service and luncheon will be held Sunday at Montoni’s Pizza in Westview, where she had formerly been employed.

She was born in Akron, raised in Westview and attended Westview High School.

She lived in Seattle, Wash., for a time; and then worked as a tutor for American children in Martel, France.

She attended Westview County Community College. After earning her law degree from University of Akron, Mrs. Moore worked in the regional public defender’s office. Later, she ran a private law practice.

She was a fan of the Cleveland Browns football team. She also enjoyed reading superhero comic books and newspaper comics.

She was married in October 1996 in Westview to Leslie P. “Les” Moore.

Surviving are her husband; their daughter, Summer, at home; her son, Darin, who was adopted and raised by Fred and Ann (Randall) Fairgood; her parents; and many friends including Funky and Holly (Budd) Winkerbean.

Memorial contributions may be made to Lisa’s Legacy Fund at www.lisaslegacyfund.org or by mail to: Lisa’s Legacy Fund, University Hospitals Ireland Cancer Center, PO Box 74947, 11100 Euclid Avenue, Cleveland, OH 44106.

On-line condolences may be made at www.funkywinkerbean.com

jacob espinoza Says:

1. September 19th, 2007 at 9:34 pm edit“Then, with the aplomb of a prima balleriina, she pulled a silver dollar from her purse and set it spinning atop the beer-and-saliva-stained bar.
   “Gimme another, Sam!” she bellowed at the barkeep.
   The words still were hanging in the air when a sweaty long-neck was slammed down before her, catching the eye of a dry-mouthed, sweaty longshoreman who leered from across the room.
   Undaunted, she picked up the bottle and, in what seemed a single motion, removed the cap with her teeth and quaffed the contents without stopping.
   She wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her kimono, smiled wryly and tottered off the stool.
   ‘Cuse me,” she said. “I have to go castrate some animals.”
   Everyone gave her a wide berth as she strode out the door.
   One she had disappeared into the night, someone had the guts to ask the question that was on everyone’s mind: “Is that the gal that writes all that crap on The Evening News blog?”
   The silence spoke volumes.”

Aside from the bellowing and such, Mr. Espinoza brings up something - albeit a little differently than I was wanting to approach it - I’ve been thinking a bit about lately. (No, not a sweaty longneck or a leering longshoreman.)

The public and private life of a reporter. Tuesday morning when I was on my way to work I got a flat tire on the freeway. A bit of a fluke since I never take the freeway to work, but there I was, stranded since I couldn’t get the lug nuts off. A truck from Jim’s Towing came to assist and I wondered if when I turned over my card, he would recognize my name. (Anyone familiar with the forums a month or two ago will recall an extended discussion on Jim’s Towing and an alleged misdeed that was vehemently denied and subsequently never proven.) I don’t mean that in the celebrity kind of way, but in the oh, so that’s who she is, kind of way.

I also wonder about it when I’m out shopping in the community and hand over my debit card, particularly when I’m looking rather haggard. Or in instances like last week when a guy was riding around on a jet ski on the lake and it died. His dad was going up and down the street looking for anyone who may be able to help. He waited on the shared breakwall, while my neighbors and I looked through a scope, keeping his drifting son in sight. Once the Coast Guard was called, I had to tell the dad I worked for the newspaper and would have to ask him some questions.

Yesterday, a knock on the door was another neighbor, asking if he could put a political sign in my yard. No way, I told him. I hadn’t even considered if it was a candidate I would support, it just isn’t an option either way.

On the flip side, being a reporter lets me in places and allows me to ask people intimate questions I would never dream of asking without the press pass. Even at parties or social gatherings, if I come across someone interesting it probably ends up sounding more like an informal interview than small talk.

Good or bad, it just doesn’t turn off. That’s my perspective on it. But it makes me wonder - do other people think of this? If you were to meet me or another newspaper person whose name you see but not their face, in a non- professional setting, would it be like anything else? What if the person in the crowd you were talking to just happened to be a reporter?

Hello out there. In the world of “citizen journalism” I thought it might be helpful to post some information for people who want to become more involved in reporting on their community.

The first is an interactive list on citizen journalism brought to you by the International Journalists’ Network. The link is http://ijnet.org/interactive/blog_guide/1/module.html
or click here for a direct link.

This one is brought to you by the Knight Citizen News Network at www.kcnn.org/ or click here.

Or, if you’re interested, you can sign up to be part of News University at www.newsu.org or by clicking here. Once your signed up you can try out the “Be a reporter game” and other courses that use interactive teaching methods.
Disclaimer: While the game might have the overtones of what it’s like to be a reporter in the field and it’s kind of fun to play, it is highly unrealistic. There is no way on earth an ER doctor would hand over a list of kids who were brought from the school with suspected food poisoning. He or she may give some hints, but it would never be in the open, and, by the way, a reporter would not even be allowed on the floor unless it were special circumstances.
Also, good luck trying to get past any kind of school administrator/PR person to speak with a lunch lady. Not going to happen, unless you know how to finesse someone you have a long-standing relationship with (even then, probably not), sneak into the school through an open door or happen to be related to the person.
The reason this irks me so much is because it implies it’s easy to capture information when in real life we have to fight for every nugget we get. But it does provide an accurate idea of how many places we have to go and how many people we have to talk to, just to confirm the information we already have.

Is this something you are interested in? Let me know what you think.