He died on Christmas Day.
He created the “Blue Room.”
And he had great fun with a practical joke that involved carrying a phone in his pocket long before the first cell phone.
That was Ben James. Here’s a brief glimpse of him from a “Retriree Notes” column written by Craig Wilaon in the June 1992 Sidebar Magazine:
Let me tell you about "Benny."
I was hired June 14, 1951 by a gruff state editor built like a rumpled refrigerator. His name was Ben James. He delighted in mangling my first name. He made "Craig" sound like "Craigggeee...."
Any time I goofed up at the Ravenna bureau, I could expect his booming bass voice vibrating over my telephone.
But he could make mistakes too. Once I sent in a story about the low-down Portage County Sheriff, with a background memo about a lot of his crooked activity which I couldn't prove. Ben threw out the story and printed the memo.
After stints as city editor and assistant managing editor, "Mr. James" became the BJ's first personnel manager - from 1964 to 1969. He found space for the first coffee and snacks machines.
The Beacon Journal had just hired a consultant who assured management that future journalistic prosperity depended upon painting everything blue - the walls, the furniture, the air vents, the trucks, everything.
If you snoozed at your desk, you might wake up blue.
The new "cafeteria" was sloshed with baby blue enamel. If it was too cold or rainy to cross Exchange Street and eat at the Western DriveIn, you could enjoy total blue ambiance in Benny's Blue Room.
After Ben James died Dec. 25, 1980, Russ Musarra told of Ben's best practical joke:
He would carry a telephone in his coat pocket, plus a buzzer. On a crowded elevator, Ben would push the buzzer, pull out the phone, answer it, then hand it to a stranger saying "It's for you!"
Ben's wife Bette, died June, 30, 1982.
Please add your comments at the end of this post. Or if you have a story or memory of Ben James, send it to hliggett@sbcglobal.net to share with other viewers.
See Ben James Memories on our web site.
Beautiful memories.
ReplyDeleteI was a frequent flyer in the Blue Room (only at lunch time, unlike SOME of my co-workers in the composing room.
I do remember Mr. James as a big man and a lot of laughs. Had never heard of his "cell" phone pranks.
He was my father...and I could tell you a myriad of stories. He was one of a kind. I thought, for a brief moment, of going into journalism, but my dad quickly squelched that plan..."the newspaper business is no place for women". He love his work, but God knew what he was doing when He didn't allow him to have to endure computers, etc.
ReplyDeleteSusan James Corman,
Temple, Texas