Eight Feet Deep

Two very important American news media figures passed from the scene over the past several days.

Longtime ABC News anchor Peter Jennings has, of course, been extensively eulogized in the media since his death was announced Sunday. Because so much has been said about Jennings I will only say that I admired his work and his intellect. He was more than just another TV pretty face, he was a reporter and a damn good one.

John H. Johnson died Monday at age 87. Johnson took a $500 loan secured by his mother’s furniture to establish “Jet” and “Ebony” magazines, the largest and most successful publications aimed at a Black American audience.

Although I have probably read either Jet or Ebony less that a dozen times, Johnson’s death has a personal and probably a bit unusual meaning to me. Johnson, you see, watched me pass in review during my Navy boot camp graduation in September 1974. He didn’t come to watch just me pass in review, of course.

Occasions such as that boot camp graduation at Great Lakes Naval Training Center, just north of Chicago, usually include some guest of honor to watch the recruits who have completed training march past the reviewing stand. We were required to salute the reviewing officer and guest while marching by with an “eyes right.” Johnson was a VIP worthy of being asked to review the new recruits, so we gave him and the senior naval officer with him our respect.

I probably had never read or even looked closely at a Jet or Ebony until after that day. Later I realized that this gentleman who came to watch me graduate embodied the spirit of the American Dream. That is the spirit of achieving what is possible as opposed to the outcome of the Dream itself, although, Johnson surely must have enjoyed that outcome.

In his autobiography, “Succeeding Against the Odds,” Mr. Johnson said: “I believe that the only failure is failing to try…and if my life has meaning…it is because millions of Americans, Black and White, have proved through me that the Dream is still alive and well and working in America.”

We could use more folks with a can-do voice like John Johnson’s. I will always appreciate his presence that day watching Company 74-209 and the others graduate.

Some very sinister occurrences are taking place in newsrooms across the country, if you believe the likes of Katherine Harris and Bob Novak.

Remember Harris? She was the Florida secretary of state during the Election From Hell in 2000 and who looked rather … unique (If you can’t say something good about somebody …) Harris — now a congresswoman and who is running for U.S. Senate — said in a recent interview that newspapers “colorized” her photograph during those elections, which distorted her use of makeup. Those meanies!

I actually know what she is talking about. I used to write a newspaper column that was distributed nationally. I was not at all happy with the picture (below)that accompanied my column and suspect the mug was doctored.

Bob Novak, the conservative columnist who exploded the bullshit bomb last week on CNN, said his photo too had been altered. One might be dismissive of Novak’s claim because he is 120 years old. But alas, I did find a recent photo of Novak (below) and I am afraid it appears as if the newspapers might have done something to change the old man’s photograph.

When will it all end? Those liberal fools are messing with the one asset on which Harris, Novak (and I to a certain extent) have gotten by all these years, that being good looks. I can only say to you ruthless newspaper people out there, stop the madness, please!!!

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This hay bale probably isn’t in Crawford, Texas. I don’t know where it is actually. But it is here to illustrate the illusion being perpetrated by the electronic news media. You see all those TV stand-ups from Crawford when President Bush visits his ranch? Well, those reporters are not out on the Rancho de Jorge W. They are not even on a ranch or a farm, they are out in back of Crawford Middle School. I’m sorry to break it to you. It’s kind of like no Santa Claus or Easter Rabbit. The old gymnasium at the school serves as the (Western) White House press center when GW is at his home about eight miles away.

But you see the reporters standing, nonetheless, before a hay bale and dilapidated barn and rusty farm implements. It looks, said Elizabeth Bumiller of The New York Times, “as if a cow might wander by any moment.” But these props are in fact just a couple of blocks from “downtown” Crawford, as much as a town of 700 can have a downtown.

I don’t know why the television networks persist in making it seem their reporters are Gucci-deep in meadow muffins. Granted, there aren’t a lot of sights to see in Crawford except for several gift shops and the Coffee Station Cafe, friendly as the town folks are there. Even if the correspondents stood up by the Western White House logo, which they have up inside the gym, it would be a little more honest than standing up before the pseudo Green Acres.

Well, I suppose TV has got to make it seem like something it’s not. Otherwise we would just get news and it would probably depress us even more. It’s probably a good thing they don’t do the report from the top of the water tower in Crawford, come to think of it.

For some reason this afternoon I got to thinking about Charlie Wilson. Who is Charlie Wilson you might ask? Well, Tom Hanks is set to show you when the film version of George Crile’s book “Charlie Wilson’s War” is released.

Charlie was a Democratic congressman from Lufkin, Texas, for more than 20 years. Before retiring to become a lobbyist in 1996, Wilson was less known for major legislation and best known for his love of carousing and skirt-chasing. “Good Time Charlie,” he was called. The book by former “60 Minutes” producer Crile — published last year — makes the case that Wilson almost single-handedly helped the Afghan Mujaheddin rebels defeat the Soviet Army by quietly funneling congressional money to the CIA for weapons. Crile’s book is a great read, full of as much intrigue as any spy thriller, and doesn’t hide the human frailties that make Wilson such a fascinating and complex character.

I guess Charlie was my congressman for most of my adult life. I didn’t really know him well. I talked to him a number of times as a journalist and I did accompany him along with others on a trip in his massive recreational vehicle one time. We went to check out a machine shop in my area for which Charlie had helped secure a defense contract. I remember the BS was pretty deep in the RV that afternoon, figuratively speaking, as Charlie entertained us with tales from his lively world.

Charlie had weathered more than a few scandals in office — drunk driving — cocaine investigation — flying a beauty queen on board a government jet to accompany him to Pakistan — the U.S. House check-kiting scandal. So representing in Congress a district in the East Texas pineywoods which puts the Bible in the Bible Belt, you would think the voters would throw this cad out on his ear. Ha! He kept getting elected and left Congress on his own terms.

What was so fascinating was seeing little old lady constituents of his who fawned over the tall, lanky Wilson. These paragons of East Texas virtue just loved old Charlie. I guess some of his virtuous constituents — both men and women — may have lived vicariously through him and his escapades. Charlie, who was notorious for hiring beautiful women, was also a master at providing services for his constituents. His campaign slogan was “Taking Care of the Home Folks” and I suspect that played no minor role in his serving 24 years in Congress.

Aaron Sorkin, creator of TV’s “The West Wing,” is adapting the book about Charlie to a screenplay in which Hanks will star as the former congressman. I’m really looking forward to the movie.