CRESTVIEW — The Rodgers and Hammerstein classic song, “Do-Re-Mi,” from my absolute favorite film of all time, “The Sound of Music,” has a wonderful opening:
“Let’s start at the very beginning,
A very good place to start…”
So I will.
Many moons ago, as a fifth-grader at Lounsberry Hollow Middle School in rural Vernon Township, New Jersey, I launched my journalism career as humor columnist and cartoonist for the school newspaper.
Soon I was solo-publishing “The Vista Road Gazette,” an insightful neighborhood monthly with a vast circulation of five copies per edition—the maximum possible from used sheets of carbon paper filched from Dad’s home office.
In those heady days of the fledgling environmental movement, the Gazette’s hard-hitting series lambasting Mrs. Pfeiffer for air and noise pollution was groundbreaking, at least within the walls at 107 Vista Road.
A scourge of the neighborhood, Mrs. Pfeiffer would rumble up to Mrs. Brophy’s house in her smoke-belching old Ford station wagon and instead of ringing the doorbell, would sit outside honking until Mrs. Brophy waved her in.
From the day I first saw my byline in print, I wanted to write for a small-town newspaper.
All it took to fulfill that dream was the passage of a few decades; writing for my two college newspapers and, for good measure, the newspaper at the college next door as well; some freelance theatre reviews and travel features for New Orleans papers; a hurricane named Katrina; a college buddy from Crestview who took me in after the storm; an editor desperate for freelance copy, my father’s untimely death (smoking is so sophisticated, isn’t it?) and a corporate takeover of just the sort of small-town newspaper I wanted to write for.
Returning to Crestview after settling Dad’s estate, I learned the News Bulletin had been absorbed by Freedom Communications and that same editor, the beloved Kelly Humphrey, was seeking a full-time reporter.
She never got a journalist. She got me instead.
It says “staff writer” on my business card for good reason: I tell stories. That’s just as well because Kelly once told me, “You can do a brilliant piece of investigative journalism, but just remember, you’re going to run into the same people you write about today in Winn-Dixie tomorrow.”
That desire to tell Crestview’s stories, often in what I hoped—much to the despair of the professional journalists who were my editors—was a conversational style, served me well these past nine-and-a-half years.
One of the greatest feelings is to be in Publix and hear a kid turn to his mom, as I obliviously wander in quest of Nutella, and say, “That’s the newspaper guy. He talked to my class yesterday.”
“The newspaper guy.” How I loved that role.
I’ve met lots and lots of wonderful people; learned how local government works—and sometimes doesn’t; appreciated all the more our incredible teachers, first responders and military; and became awestruck by local business owners’ generosity, who, just when you think they’ve been tapped dry, find means to support yet another good community cause.
I’ve held hands, shared prayers, swapped hugs, handshakes and jokes, and shaken my head in sympathy, agreement and understanding with you.
I confess I took Kelly’s advice way too much to heart. While some of my subsequent bosses wanted me delving into juicy stories that win Pullet Surprises (say it out loud) but don’t do much to lift up our community, I saw myself instead as a community partner.
So yeah, I hushed some stuff up. That school playground flatulence cover-up scandal with City Hall links? You never heard it from me. Which political candidate as a child swiped the kid across the street’s sandbox toys? I’ll never tell.
What I do tell folks is this was the most fun I ever had at a job. And when you’re having fun, it compensates for a, shall we say, modest salary.
Oh sure, there are regrets. I never got to use aviatrix, harlot, strumpet, philistine, cretin, twit or git in a story. (I did once get away with “sculptress.”)
So with such splendid words in mind, I bid you a fond auf wiedersehen. To my German family, it means, “until we see one other again.” I’ll still be here in the most hospitable, caring, devout place I ever called home (well, apart from the house on Vista Road), and may even resurface in these pages from time to time.
In the meantime, thank you for letting me share your stories. You made this Lounsberry Hollow alumnus, who finally fulfilled his dream to be “the newspaper guy,” very happy.
PS: Mrs. Pfeiffer eventually stopped blaring her horn outside Mrs. Brophy’s house. Behold the power of the press!
"Crestview News Bulletin staff writer Brian Hughes officially retired from his post on Sept. 30. It's the end of an era; he will be missed.
Journalism's a tough business — not for the faint of heart. So I greatly appreciate Brian's dedication, skill and strength these past four years, and the five he served before my time here. His close relationship with the community has benefited Crestview and the News Bulletin.
Before Brian left, we reflected on the rollercoaster experience and wished each other happiness in our journeys. (I even got a nice French card from the Crestview Sister City president.) I'm saddened by his departure but understand the need to chase new dreams.
The national search for filling these huge shoes is ongoing. Interested job-seekers can apply here."
FROM THE EDITOR
This article originally appeared on Crestview News Bulletin: Let’s start at the beginning