Looking back
Friday's my last day as part of a wonderful news team at the Star-Telegram. I'll miss working with a great bunch of journalists.
I have to accept that this could be the end of my newspaper career. Started around 1966 at my hometown paper, the Texarkana Gazette.
I wish I could say that I got into this business because of lofty and noble aims. That would be a lie, but those aims eventually kept me in the business.
Truth is, I believe, that divine intervention put me on the ink-slathered tracks that I've traveled for a long time, and it happened because I couldn't have done anythng else that would have given me the heights and depths of personal satisfaction that I've experienced as a journalist.
In high school, I'd suffered a sports injury that wrecked every dream I had. I played baseball -- loved the game -- and was a pretty good pitcher. But one day, I threw a high, breaking curve to a tall, skinny batter who got every bit of that ball with a whip of a swing. Powdered it. Sent it like a bullet straight into my forehead before I could get out of the way.
The blow left a scar on my brain that resulted in epilepsy. Eventually, I outgrew that cursed injury but not before it kept me out of cockpits (I wanted to fly), the U.S. Marines and law enforcement. And everything I applied for. No one wanted me except a steakhouse owner who hired me as a busboy while I was going to college.
I was drawn to adventurous things, but the injury seemed to block every avenue. One day, my mom, who was a highly successful songwriter and promoter and who wrote a column for the Gazette, suggested that I apply to the Gazette. A cub reporter job was open, she said, and she knew the editor, the legendary J.Q. Mahaffey. I listened to her, applied and got the job. I don't know why. Didn't ask. But I suspect mom had something to do with it.
So that's where I started and why. It's a decision I've never regretted, not even while working 20-hour days, enduring vicious pressures and sweating blood over a news decision.
And there's been one other bonus. Thinking about those other career paths I'd planned that would've led to the sky, Viet Nam or squad cars, journalism probably kept me alive.
-- David House
Recent Comments