With another BJ party looming at 5:30 p.m. Thursday, November 29 in the Silver Run Vineyard and Winery at 376 Eastern Road in Doylestown, it seems like a good time to unfurl again the legend of Patrick T. Englehart.

For those who were not at Ol’ Blue Walls in 1969-96, as I was privileged to be, a history lesson:

Pat is the #1 person responsible for the Beacon Journal receiving the Pulitzer Prize for its coverage of the 1970 murder of four Kent State students and wounding of nine others by the Ohio National Guard, themselves about the same age as the students they fired upon that horrible May 4 day.

Bob Giles and Al Fitzpatrick pulled Pat away as State Desk Editor, leaving assistant State Desk editors Harry Liggett and I to handle those day-to-day chores, and turned the Kent State coverage over to Pat, who damn near filled the BJ storage room to the roof with photos and notes about that horrendous event in American history that helped end the Vietnam War amid public outrage.

And drove his cadre of Kent State reporters mad.

That was how Pat worked.

His quest for the truth and information was unquenchable. Those who cussed him for cracking his verbal whip also loved him for his dedication.

Pat smoked that damn DeNobil cigar that made you feel like you were inhaling the polluted air of China or the blinding smog of Los Angeles. And drank Rolling Rock beer like no man I’ve ever seen.

But he was the best damned editor I ever worked under in my 43 years on newspapers that included the St. Petersburg Times with legendary owner/publisher Nelson Poynter; the Charleston Daily Mail, West Virginia’s premier newspaper; the Williamson Daily News; and the Dayton Daily News, in a Cox newspaper chain that hated unions and fired those who pushed the union cause beyond their tolerance level (I am proof of that).

Fantastic writers like John Dunphy, Jim Ricci, Bill Hershey – all also legends at the BJ – swore by him and at him. Pat was a leader who would snarl at you to do better (so you did, because he did even more than he expected you to do) but then have a beer with you after work and laugh alongside you.

Pat’s laugh was as impressive as his quotes, such as, “You sound like a man with a paper asshole!” when he disagreed with someone.

That competed with columnist and everyreader's friend and columnist Francis B. Murphey’s “Go to Hell!” compliment (you had to be there) among my golden memories.

When management came to the State Desk to chide a reporter, Pat stepped between them and defended the reporter. When the management representative left, Pat would chew out the reporter and tell him or her how to do it better.

This created the most incredible loyalty that I have ever seen on any news desk in my 43 years in West Virginia, Florida and Ohio newspapers.

We would run through a brick wall for Pat even though, at times, we felt like throwing a brick at him.

For those at the Silver Run Winery who never met Patrick T. Englehart, you missed one of the most astounding and remarkable legends in BJ history.

And St. Peter welcomed wife Marge Englehart with open arms and a “how did you live with that man?” greeting.

Lovingly, Pete, just like Pat’s co-workers did.