I interviewed for a faculty/media position a few weeks back at a university that shall remain nameless. Suffice it to say that the main campus is about five hours southeast of Longview. Its fans wear lots of purple and are considered quite rabid in their devotion to their athletic teams — football in particular. And the mascot is a large feline. You can take it from there.
Anyway, I didn’t get the job. Nobody got the job, as it turned out. I was informed that the search would begin anew, that the committee elected not to choose any of the three finalists, including yours truly. I don’t...
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I am preparing to leave Longview. No surprise there, because I’m unemployed and on relief, as my aged friend puts it. Job prospects are poor here, since I’m only interested in running a newspaper. That job has been taken, rather rudely I might add.
I received my first relief check the other day. Actually, now one receives a debit card with a weekly amount placed on it, which is mighty handy. This is the first time in my 40-year work history that I have received unemployment, so I have a clear conscience. What is more, it will be short-lived. It is too early to make an announcement. It is not too early...
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A few months ago I received a postcard. Its cover displayed a photograph of a magenta camellia blossom, a raindrop about to slide off the lowest pedal. How lovely, I thought. Fan mail.
The canceled stamp featured legendary black baseball pitcher Satchel Paige, who pitched three shutout innings at the estimated age of 60 (nobody, apparently including him, knew his actual birthday) pitched three shutout innings for the Kansas City Athletics in 1965. Paige was a legend in the Negro Leagues, a showboat who backed up his boasting with his deeds, a precursor to Muhammad Ali. Paige finally got his chance...
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OUTSIDE OF WACO — We sat swapping stories and sipping whiskey on the back porch — five newspapermen with plenty of mileage on us — as March blew out through a haze of pollen. I calculate together we have logged somewhere around 180 years in this business. All those years working at newspapers guaranteed some fine tales to tell. But first we feasted on ribs, grilled shrimp, Uncle Dan’s famous white potato salad, and beans — all washed down with ice-cold beer. The whiskey came later. As Texas songwriter Radney Foster put it, “Good whiskey never done me wrong.”
Our host retired as a publisher...
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Tick, tock! Tick, tock!
Forty ’leven by the clock.
Tick, tock! Tick, tock!
Leroy F. Jackson
I have now been unemployed for two weeks. The job search began in earnest the day after I was informed my services were no longer needed at the paper. At my age I figure there is no sense being leisurely about this. Thanks to all who have e-mailed and called to wish me luck. I am optimistic that this jobless situation will be temporary. Compared to many folks out there seeking work, I feel fortunate because I do have some concrete prospects.
Not having to get up to go work has changed...
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PETIT JEAN STATE PARK, ARK. — We spent the final two days of winter tramping the trails of the oldest state park in the Land of Opportunity. The park is about an hour west of Little Rock, near Morrilton. Petit Jean Mountain sneaks up on you, rising out of cropland that still lies fallow, the irrigation rigs standing sentinel under a 180-degree sky. We begin winding our way upward to the top of this modest mountain, elevation 2,441 feet.
The mountain is named, the legend goes, after a young French woman who died following her true love across the ocean disguised as a boy. He had come to explore...
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Spring has been angling to arrive for a few weeks, but winter just hasn’t wanted to leave East Texas this year. It has enjoyed its stay with snowstorms, temperatures in the teens, howling winds and all manner of ridiculous behavior. One day I checked the weather app on my iPhone, and it was colder in Longview than it was in Boston. Now that is just messed up.
So it was with great relief that we all got out of the car last Sunday week on the way to church and noticed the tulip trees had exploded on the courthouse lawn. They are the Sentinels of Spring in East Texas, with gorgeous pink blossoms...
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At TrueFields farm, Grey Face, Freckles and Girl ally vie for the attention of David Sanders, their human minder. David not only provides food in the form of outdated organic onions, carrots and other produce from area grocery stores. He also gives belly rubs to the 300-pound sows that live the good life on this organic operation.
TrueFields has been located on 850 acres near Hallsville since 2008 but is in the process of moving to a place northwest of Jefferson. My fiancé and I managed to squeeze in a tour from David, who is both an investor in True Fields and an employee, on the last weekend...
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So here is what happened. My lovely fiancé, aka my beautiful mystery companion — which is a line from a Jackson Browne tune — and I were slated to attend the Maya Angelou lecture at Northeast Texas Community College last Friday night. What a treat, this famed poet and lecturer here in East Texas. Alas, Ms. Angelou became ill and postponed her appearance until April. As a consolation prize, we headed to the movies.
I bought the tickets while my BMC was engaged in conversation with a couple of acquaintances that had spotted her. We rarely go to the movies, being recluses when not at work....
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I stole an hour the other day and went to the library to look at microfilm of our paper from 1962. I’m working on a long-term research and reporting project. Some of the nation’s large newspapers — New York Times, Wall Street Journal — have been digitized and can be searched online. But if you want to look at issues of the Longview newspaper from 1962, that means slowly scrolling through microfilm a page at a time.
These trays of microfilm tell the story of this community nearly five decades ago, the rough draft of our history. I often wonder in what manner historians will access our paper...
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