Journalism turned out to be everything I thought it would be: unpredictable, adventurous, tearful, crazy, bloody, contemptuous, dizzy, depressing, stupid, outrageous, exhausting, satisfying.
My career in the profession began at the Wildcat , the University of Arizona’s campus newspaper. Back then, editors used fat, yellow pencils to edit and pale glue to attach the pages of the story together. Campus journalism consisted of poking fun at the university president and writing about joints, long hair, and free love.
My writing was rough, but the Tucson Citizen hired me as a reporter upon graduation. I discovered the real world of journalism: one phone call could re-traumatize a crime victim and a single phrase could shatter a person’s career.
From Arizona, I traveled to the Midwest to work for the Omaha World-Herald (link) or Weird-Herald, as some called it. I moved to experience life outside the Southwest and journalism at a large, daily publication. The people were great, the journalism wasn’t. It was in Omaha that I met my wife Susan. Although I loved the people, I couldn’t handle the winters.
Next stop, The Seattle Times in the Pacific Northwest (link). In 1980 I was offered a job there. The editors seemed stiff, but I was delighted the newspaper possessed deep pockets. I traveled regularly.
Once a small plane flew me across the border into Canada, landed in the ocean, and delivered me to a vessel carrying a Brazilian stow-a-way headed for Seattle. On another occasion, I visited several cities in Mexico to report on the displacement of the poor to make room for plush tourist resorts. My greatest adventures, though, came when I was asked to cover two volcanic eruptions: El Chichon in Mexico in 1982 and Nevado del Ruiz in Colombia in 1985. The faces of the dead still haunt me.
The Times turned out to be an interesting place to practice investigative reporting, too. While there, I led investigations into: school bus drivers who possessed felony and reckless-driving convictions; fire officials who used publicly owned equipment to make thousands of dollars; and dysfunctional crime laboratories nationwide. For many years, though, I was assigned to follow the investigation into one of this country’s most prolific serial killer cases, known infamously as the Green River Killer case.
Although I always enjoyed the adventure of journalism, I knew that one day I wanted to teach journalism at the university level. In the late 1980’s I took a break from reporting to obtain a Masters Degree in Communication from the University of Washington. And in 1994 I made the move from The Times to Seattle University, a private Jesuit school in the heart of Seattle.
For 22 years I had the pleasure of meeting and teaching students from around the world. Some ventured to Seattle University from Africa and Europe. Others traveled from Latin America and Australia and Asia. And many came from almost every corner of the United States, from farm fields to megacities. All contributed, over the years, to a very rewarding teaching experience.
I went to Seattle University to teach. And I did, wholeheartedly. I designed and redesigned courses to intellectually engage students. But, to be honest, I feel I ended up learning the most. I may have taught a student about good writing and ethical Journalism, but over time they taught me more than a few lessons about life.
My career in the profession began at the Wildcat , the University of Arizona’s campus newspaper. Back then, editors used fat, yellow pencils to edit and pale glue to attach the pages of the story together. Campus journalism consisted of poking fun at the university president and writing about joints, long hair, and free love.
My writing was rough, but the Tucson Citizen hired me as a reporter upon graduation. I discovered the real world of journalism: one phone call could re-traumatize a crime victim and a single phrase could shatter a person’s career.
From Arizona, I traveled to the Midwest to work for the Omaha World-Herald (link) or Weird-Herald, as some called it. I moved to experience life outside the Southwest and journalism at a large, daily publication. The people were great, the journalism wasn’t. It was in Omaha that I met my wife Susan. Although I loved the people, I couldn’t handle the winters.
Next stop, The Seattle Times in the Pacific Northwest (link). In 1980 I was offered a job there. The editors seemed stiff, but I was delighted the newspaper possessed deep pockets. I traveled regularly.
Once a small plane flew me across the border into Canada, landed in the ocean, and delivered me to a vessel carrying a Brazilian stow-a-way headed for Seattle. On another occasion, I visited several cities in Mexico to report on the displacement of the poor to make room for plush tourist resorts. My greatest adventures, though, came when I was asked to cover two volcanic eruptions: El Chichon in Mexico in 1982 and Nevado del Ruiz in Colombia in 1985. The faces of the dead still haunt me.
The Times turned out to be an interesting place to practice investigative reporting, too. While there, I led investigations into: school bus drivers who possessed felony and reckless-driving convictions; fire officials who used publicly owned equipment to make thousands of dollars; and dysfunctional crime laboratories nationwide. For many years, though, I was assigned to follow the investigation into one of this country’s most prolific serial killer cases, known infamously as the Green River Killer case.
Although I always enjoyed the adventure of journalism, I knew that one day I wanted to teach journalism at the university level. In the late 1980’s I took a break from reporting to obtain a Masters Degree in Communication from the University of Washington. And in 1994 I made the move from The Times to Seattle University, a private Jesuit school in the heart of Seattle.
For 22 years I had the pleasure of meeting and teaching students from around the world. Some ventured to Seattle University from Africa and Europe. Others traveled from Latin America and Australia and Asia. And many came from almost every corner of the United States, from farm fields to megacities. All contributed, over the years, to a very rewarding teaching experience.
I went to Seattle University to teach. And I did, wholeheartedly. I designed and redesigned courses to intellectually engage students. But, to be honest, I feel I ended up learning the most. I may have taught a student about good writing and ethical Journalism, but over time they taught me more than a few lessons about life.