This story is 8 years old, but as BJ dinosaurs know, no good story should be allowed to wither and gather dust but must be exhumed and exposed to the spotlight and sunshine.

This is about retired BJ copy desk editor Charles S. Montague, or Chasm as we dinosaurs know him, and Jim Naughton, former Philadelphia Inquirer editor.

Naughton was born in Pittsburgh and grew up in Painesville, Ohio where he began his newspaper career by delivering the Painesville Telegraph.

He went from Notre Dame Journalism School to the Marine Corps to the Plain Dealer to the New York Times where he was joined at the hip with Gene Roberts to the Philadelphia Inquirer (with Roberts, of course) as the Inquirer racked up 17 Pulitzers, the Valhalla of journalism. Naughton left the Inquirer to become president of Florida’s Poynter Institute, a bastion of information about the media.

He was almost as famous as a prankster who would dump enough frogs in Roberts’ bathtub to match Roberts' age on his birthday or wear a swami hat or a chicken head to interview a Presidential candidate.

This story first appeared August 14, 2012 as an op-ed guest column in the Cleveland Plain Dealer two days after Naughton passed away, under Chasm’s byline.

I’ll let Chasm tell the story . . . again:

News of the death Saturday, two days shy of him turning 74, of James M. Naughton, former ace Plain Dealer reporter, storied New York Times correspondent and even more storied top-tier Philadelphia Inquirer editor, jolted me as I sipped my first early morning coffee and read his obituary on the big screen of my Google-equipped TV, linked to my digital subscription to the Times.

Jim Naughton was a hero to me and this is the story of why.

In the searing summer of 1968, there was an intense presidential campaign going on. (I think I've heard about something similar here and now, 44 years later.) Cleveland was excited because the Democratic nominee, Hubert Humphrey, was coming to town for what was then an unusual kind of campaign appearance.

The editors of the Elyria Chronicle-Telegram decided about 11 a.m. on the day of the event that the small paper 30 miles west of Cleveland would get in there with the Big Boys and cover the Humphrey stop.

They chose to send an eager kid, just 21. Banging away on a manual typewriter with copy paper and carbon paper, he had in his few weeks out of Ohio University in Athens, Ohio produced stuff that was just readable enough to warrant the assignment.

He was me.

Back then, the drive from Elyria to Cleveland was not the relatively smooth sail east on I-90 that it is today. (I covered, in the summer of 1969, the opening of a section of I-90 from Route 57 east for a few miles.)

I motored on two-lane roads with a thousand stoplights, got on Detroit Road and finally wheeled my 1962 Ford Fairlane into the parking lot of Burke Lakefront Airport, where Humphrey was to arrive by small private jet, got out, soaked up the scene, listened and started writing notes.

But it was pretty obvious to any Trained Observer of People and Events that I looked like I didn't really have a good handle on what I was doing. A voice from behind said, "Hi. Jim Naughton. Plain Dealer." I introduced myself. He looked about 10 years older than me (actually, it's eight). I had seen his byline.

He handed me some papers, said they were Humphrey campaign briefing stuff, said he was done with them. "But first, you need to see those two guys," he said, gesturing toward a nearby stern gray suit, who was a Secret Service agent, and a harried rumpled black suit, a Humphrey campaign aide.

They looked at my I.D. and issued me a credential.

As Humphrey's plane landed, Naughton told me how to get to Cleveland City Hall, where I would probably find a parking spot nearby and how I would be in an office that would have one black-and-white TV with one small speaker, showing what a stationary camera viewed inside the City Council Chamber as Humphrey held a town hall meeting with the council members. As the local media pro, Naughton would be in the council chamber.

As things started to roll, I thanked Naughton for his help. He smiled and said, "Get the story. Get it right." I smiled back. I knew that for him, since the PD was a morning paper, it was also get it fast, which he did, of course. I was at an afternoon paper, so I could stay up all night writing my article, which I did.

The cramped and crowded office where the traveling press, which had landed at Cleveland Hopkins, was stashed seemed to have only one open chair. I sat down. Next to me, an older man who I thought I recognized extended his hand and said, "Martin Agronsky. CBS." I shook his hand and said my name and affiliation.

I also thought, "Holy dung! This is a colleague of the legend, Cronkite -- a man who calls him Walter!"

Humphrey and the Cleveland pols went on and on and even my largely uninformed ears could tell that it didn't sound as if something really significant was happening here. Agronsky and the other veterans in the office grew antsy.

When Humphrey looked as if he was getting ready to leave, Agronsky rose from his chair and shouted at the TV.

The line he said has been recounted as being said by others at the events of other politicians. I don't know who said it first; I don't think it was Agronsky.

What he shouted at the TV was: "Hubert! You can't stop talking. You haven't said a lead!"

(Which is also spelled "lede." It refers to the first paragraph of a news report, which is supposed to be the Really Significant Thing that you are reporting.)

The same thought was evident inside the council chamber. I saw Naughton move into the picture and speak into the ear of a Humphrey aide, who spoke into the candidate's ear. Humphrey sat back down and proceeded, a few minutes later, to say a lead.

I called Naughton a couple of days later and thanked him for his help. He said he appreciated that.

"Stay after the story," he told me.

I said I would.

In 38 years, nine months and 10 days at the Akron Beacon Journal (not to put too fine a point on it), I was proud to be a member of a staff that won three Pulitzer Prizes. I played my part in each.

But I am just as proud that every so often, as I aged before taking a buyout at 62 on easy-to-remember 10-09-08, that I had the opportunity to help a young person or just be nice to them. Some are out there today, not so young anymore, but doing great work in these trying times for newspapers.

Charles Montague, a retired reporter, desk editor and copy editor for the Akron Beacon Journal, lives in Stow.

The reason that I resurrected this story is because it is important that everyone doing the glorious task of journalism, so crucial to a democracy, is that we help others just coming into that glorious profession. In my 43-year newspaper career in West Virginia, Florida and Ohio, others did just that for me, just as Naughton did for Chasm.

In West Virginia, sportswriting legend and West Virginia Journalism Hall of Famer Mickey Furfari took me under his wing when I was working 40 hours a week as a reporter for the Morgantown Dominion-News, particularly when the alcoholic managing editor left to drink his dinner and didn’t return for hours. Since I also was taking 19 credit hours a semester at West Virginia University School of Journalism at the same time, sleep was a rare commodity for me. So Mickey was a great help.

Mickey and I were friends for more than a half-century and chatted on the phone every month about WVU sports, our health and life up until Mickey passed away in 2016.

After my 1954 WVU graduation I became sports editor of the Williamson, West Virginia Daily News while Jim Van Zant was serving his country in the military. When Jim returned, I slid over to news editor.

Jim was so revered along the Tug River that divides West Virginia from Kentucky that they re-named the Willliamson Stadium the Jim Van Zant Memorial Stadium, used for both football and baseball. Jim helped me at that stage of my career.

Next I joined the sports department of the Charleston, West Virginia Daily Mail, sister paper of the Charleston Gazette, the state’s largest newspaper. Dick Hudson, the sports editor, was another West Virginia legend and Journalism Hall of Famer. He put up with my foibles and gave me guidance. Dick passed away in North Carolina at the age of 102.

Then I went to the Dayton Daily News where Si Burick was sports editor and almost an annual recipient of Ohio Sports Columnist of the Year awards. He, too, helped the coal miner’s son from West Virginia be a better sportswriter.

My final stop was the Akron Beacon Journal. State Desk editor Patrick T. Englehart, his assistant Harry Liggett, founder of this BJ Alums blog, editor Ben Maidenburg and managing editor Scott Bosley gave me helpful nudges and tips along the way.

The message, if you haven’t gotten it yet: If you are doing a veteran journalist, take time from your hectic life to help the newbies who come your way. Chasm knows what I’m talking about. Now so do you.

My thanks to Larry Pantages, who spent some time in the sports department at the BJ, for discovering and posting Chasm’s column on Facebook.

Sharon Shreve Lorentzen, the famous Farkle who put sparkle in BJ blue, at my request, followed up the article about how she got the Farkle label with her memories of the BJ.

She did such a good job that I wonder why the BJ didn’t turn Paul Lorentzen’s wife into a reporter. Some damn good writing here. I didn’t change a word. Oh, a minor grammar fix here and there, but not much of that even.

A far cleaner copy than a lot of the reporters turned over to me during my 26 years at Ol’ Blue Walls.

Here are Sharon/Farkle’s memories, which are impressive even though she didn’t name me among those she remembered during her BJ years:

Memories - Sharon Shreve/Farkle

I started at the Beacon Journal in Sept. of 1969, two months out of high school. I went in, knocked, and walked into Ben Maidenburg’s office, asked if I could have a job. He hired me. He knew I wanted to write, but with no experience at all, I started with lowered expectations.

I first started in the phone department on the mezzanine, plugging in to take a call when a call came through, and plugging it in for the department it went to. Very interesting. When that system ended, I was offered either a secretary for the managing editor, or a copy kid. As I only wanted to write, I thought that copy kid would somehow get me closer to that goal. Foolish youngster. There was a certain person of authority who told me he would never let that happen. And he meant it.

I was the first female copy kid, and an official grunt - getting coffee, bringing up every edition of the 7 editions for checking, clearing and working on copy machines, rushing changes back to composing, filing pages, hustling and bustling. Bob Goins, Frank Casey, and Bill Chaney came along, too. I was literally in every department of the paper, nearly every day.

Then I was ‘promoted’ doing obits, having to go to the families’ houses to get pictures of accident victims. That was hard for an 18-year-old, with one death being a girl I had gone to high school with. Hated that part.

I was a great typist. So, long before computers, I was the typist for the reporters calling in their stories. That was so interesting and exciting. Charles Buffum, who I still see, let me write a section of an article series he was doing, about marriage. I wrote about my best friend, who had gotten married very young. Thrilling to see it on the front pages of the Community section.

I wrote the weeky columns about what was happening in town. One was - every week - Dave and Diana Neff will be playing traditional old-time music at Hale Farm Sat.-Sun. I can remember thinking, ‘who the hell are Dave and Diana Neff, and what is traditional old-time’? Boy, did I come to learn that.

When I first started dating my husband, one of our weekly dates was to go to Boulder Junction in Green, and listen/play along with a dozen others, playing banjos, fiddles, dulcimers, mandolins, etc. It was magical. That was Dave and Diana. We became very close friends, even to this day, and played in an Irish/French Canadian/Appalachian band for 11 years. We played at Hale Farm, Yankee Peddler, May Day, Nat’l Parks., even a bar mitzvah. We had monthly contra dances in Greentown. I played dulcimer (which I made), and now the bohdran - an Irish drum.

When the paper got to computers, I was the second person that was trained, because I did all the typing. I believe a composing room guy was the first. That was amazing! I have loved them ever since.

I got to work at 5:30 a.m. One of my first tasks was for Pat Englehart.  “Copy” he’d bellow (before Farkle became a thing), “Cigars!” I had to go the Western Drive-In across the street and get his stinky, beloved DiNobli cigars, and a coffee. I also had to get John Knight’s lunch, and put it on ceramic dishes, coffee in the silver pot, all on a silver tray, and leave it on his desk. He couldn’t be there when I did it. Sometimes he’d be talking to his sec’y - Shirley Follo.

I did phone work for the Sports Dept., off and on, especially during the time Mohammad Ali had the some of his biggest fights -  Fight of the Century, the Rumble in the Jungle and the  Thrilla in Manila. The phones would go crazy with people wanting the results. Tom Melody, Ray Yannucci, John Seborn, Sheldon Ocker, Paul Bailey and the rest. Great guys, great experience.

Betty Jaycox would come in around right before 6 some mornings, to write her column - no makeup, no hair done, no fancy outfits. I would get her coffee. The first time I saw her like this, I think my jaw dropped. It was made clear that this was not to be shared. She would return several hours later, in full glory, to start gathering her society news for her next column.

Fran Murphey - wow. That’s all I could think. What a marvelous whirlwind. I have a signed Cotswold Outhouse book she gave me. I marveled at her complete disdain for anything she didn’t want. She was one of a kind and gave a young woman quite a life lesson.

I still wear overalls because of her.

Mickey Porter - the best there. I worked for him for about 3 months, when he was at his peak. Funny, sardonic, so intelligent. He was ahead of his time. And a pretty good bowler, too.

Pat Englehart was a marvel - gruff, sarcastic, funny. The ideal image of a newsman. Luckily he had a soft spot for me. He was patient and encouraging.

On May 4, 1970, I was on the phones with our staff at Kent State. I’m sure it was Don Roese that came in to the ‘press room’ there, to give a report. As I’m talking to him, he stops, says - ‘they’re shooting! They’re shooting here.’ I yelled for Pat. He got on the phone, too. As I’m typing, he’s listening, shouting orders to staff, typing himself. The place exploded! It is one of the most amazing things to happen in my life. I still get goose bumps. It was unbelievable and continues to be.

I was also the first female permitted to wear pants - when they were redoing the newsroom, version 1, I think. We had to headquarter behind the Green Room. I was constantly running my stockings. On a copy kid salary, I just couldn’t afford it, and discussed it with - yes, again - Ben Maidenburg. I was allowed to wear slacks, no jeans, after that. After the Advertising and Sales dept. got a view of that, it was opened to all.

The Beacon Bombers - I wanted to play softball. I asked repeatedly. Jim Ricci said ‘if you let Farkle play, I’ll quit’. As I recall, he was one of their good players. So, I went to John Knight’s condo (with an appointment), asked if we could use the name “Ladies of the Knight” and start a female team. He loved it so much, he bought us uniforms, and sprung for some equipment! That did not go over well with the Bombers, although I think they got t-shirts then. Wonderful, loving Jim Derendal signed on as our coach. We were horrible - a tomboy and a bunch of secretaries who had never played. But we got better, winning a trophy in our 3rd year.

I got married in 1985, and I’m still living in Highland Square, on the same street since 1965. My bonus kids are in Virginia, Atlanta, and North Carolina - 3 kids, 4 grandchildren. Paul and I have had international students from the Caribbean, England, Australia, Egypt, Denmark, Italy, and Norway. We had a wondrous trip to Norway to visit our student’s family for 18 days. We’ve gone to England, several times, including a canal boat trip through mid-England, in which we worked 91 locks ourselves. We’ve cruised through all of the West Indies and Bahamas on Windjammer ships, and the Italian Rivieria on a large cruise ship.

I ride a Harley trike, and we have done several motorcycle trips to Georgia, New Hampshire, and all points closer. We know all the ice cream places.

I started the Family Council at Rockynol, for the advocacy of the seniors there, specifically those with dementia. For eleven years I was there nearly every day with my parents, making sure everyone was getting what they deserved. A special passion and place in my heart.

I have become the unofficial secretary for the Prostate Cancer Support & Education Group, which meets monthly, a very informative group.

Paul was an architect for his whole career, and retired in 2007. He is a great Santa, and we do Mr. and Mrs. Claus every year at local churches and restaurants.

People I remember:

 

Julius Greenfield and all the photogs

Don Gaynor

Don Bandy

Loren Tibbles

Don Fermoyle

Tom Ryan

Pete Geiger

Chas Montague

Larry Froehlich and Janis

Abe Zaidan

Ted Gup

Mark Faris

Joan Rice

Jane Snow

Bob Giles

Peggy Rader

Kathy Frazee

Charles Buffum

Kathy Goforth

Harry Liggett - sweetest guy, good boss

Doug O., when he first started. Wow, did he go far.

All these names flooding back.

Thanks John, for stirring up the memories.

Sharon

 

OLESKY NOTE: With such clean copy, I'm puzzled that no one made Sharon a reporter. I've handled a LOT of copy that was not as well-written as Sharon's memories.

 

She, indeed, put the sparkle in Farkle at the BJ.

 

Mad Hatter recalls BJ Pulitzer team

Stuart Warner, former hat-wearing BJ columnist who lives and works in Arizona with his wife, Debbie Van Tassel Warner, posted this:

“I just finished writing a piece for the Akron Beacon Journal's 175th anniversary and it made me think a lot about these folks. They won the Pulitzer in 1987 for their coverage of the attempted takeover of Goodyear, which was in the plotting stages this month, 28 years ago.

“Where are they now? Not 100 percent certain, but one has his own TV show in Southern California, one is a lawyer, I believe, one is a retired publisher, one is the paper's managing editor, another the national editor, one the auto editor in Detroit, one became the first African-American editor of what was once the capital of the confederacy, one is the paper’s food writer and Akron’s most famous rock ‘n’ roll stepmom and one guy traded his fedora for a cowboy hat.

“Conspicously missing in the photo is managing editor Larry Williams, now retired, who I think was getting out of his wet clothes after losing a champagne battle with yours truly.

“It was a great time. Miss you guys.

“P.S. Should mention that dozens of other editors and artists worked on the coverage, which lasted over two months, concluding with an 8-page section: The Goodyear War."

Remember fathers

The photo is of Beacon Journal newsroom retiree Tom Moore and his late father in Tazewell, Virginia.

Tom Moore & his father

Says Tom: “He was stern and kept me on the right road and he was kind and a great dad. He's been gone 50 plus years, but I still miss him. That's a real dad to you.”

Notice that young Tom wore bib overalls, which the legendary Fran Murphey made famous in Ohio decades later.

BJ reporter Jim Carney’s mother was born in Honaker, Virginia in 1921, which is 25 miles from Tazewell.

John S. Knight was born in Bluefield, West Virginia, which is only 20 miles from where Tom grew up in Tazewell. And where Tom worked on the Bluefield Telegraph after he grew out of the bib overalls.

Both JSK and Tom wound up at the Akron Beacon Journal. Jack Knight got there about a half-century before Tom.

Remembering Ed Lynch

Mike Williams, who retired Dec. 21 from BJ’s Advertising Art department and then took off for Ecuador with his wife, Jane, responded to BJ Alums' request for more information about Ed Lynch, whose widow, Catherine Patricia “Pat” Gill Lynch, died Feb. 19. Pat Lynch was a secretary at the BJ, where she met Ed.

Mike’s email:

Ed Lynch retired in February 1985 as General Advertising Manager of the Beacon Journal.  He started his career at the BJ at the old location at Market and Summit streets, running advertising proofs. 

He was a regular golf partner to JSK, who offered advice on his backswing.

-- Mike Williams

Ed’s 2002 obituary:

Edward J. Lynch Sr., 82, of Akron, died June 10, 2002, after a short illness.

Ed was a lifelong resident of Akron, and an active member of St. Vincent Parish. He was a graduate of St. Vincent High School and Kent State University. Ed retired as general advertising manager at the Akron Beacon Journal in 1985 after 48 years of service. He was a member of the Akron Advertising Club and the National Advertising Federation. Ed served as a Chief Petty Officer in the Navy during World War II. He loved his golf at Good Park, travel, and spending time with his family.

He is survived by his wife of 51 years, Pat; children and spouses, Pam and John Montisano, Kathleen and Ken Larson, Edward Jr. and Beth Lynch, and Brian and Cindy Lynch, all of Akron; sister, Mary Hoffman of Boca Raton, Fla.; niece, Susan Young of Columbus; and 13 grandchildren, Lindsay, John, Michael and Joseph, Jake and Josh, Justin and Abby, Samantha, Brian, Sean, Nathan and Hannah.

Mass of Christian Burial Friday, 10 a.m., at St. Vincent Church, 164 W. Market St., Akron. Friends may call at the Hummel Funeral Home, 500 E. Exchange St., TO DAY from 5 to 8 p.m. Memorials may be made to the St. Vincent High School Endowment Fund to fund a scholarship in his honor. (Hummel, a Golden Rule Funeral Home, 330-253-6126.)

Please sign the guestbook at www.ohio.com/obituaries

To read Pat Lynch’s obituary, click on http://bjretirees.blogspot.com/search?q=Pat+Lynch