I have fancied myself as a writer for a long time. My undergraduate degree is in journalism/public relations and advertising. I went to college hoping to follow in my father’s footsteps, but I was sidelined more than once on that attempted journey.

In the summer after I graduated from 8th grade, I rode my bike about 4 miles into the downtown area of my small town, Elmhurst, IL. My friends/classmates/fellow graduates and I had played a marathon softball game (16 inch- it’s a Chicago thing) to raise money for school improvements and I wanted to publicize our accomplishment. As the picture shows, Chicago area 16″ softball is not played with gloves! That makes us different from the rest of the country but, I have been told by friends who have played in national tournaments that the barehanded Chicago teams generally win them.

I went to the main office of The Press Publications Newpaper, our smalltown rag, with a prepared “press release” detailing our great feat. I was allowed to speak to the copy editor and explained who I was and why I was there. He was very generous with his time and his knowledge. The editor picked my brain about what I planned to do with my life, why I had traveled so far alone. He inquired about my family situation, I got the impression that he was impressed that my dad was a writer, and he encouraged me to follow in dad’s footsteps.

Eventually I showed him my article that was about 5 paragraphs long.

The publisher, whose name I can’t recall, asked why I had omitted my name from the article. I explained that I didn’t have as good a game as the stars I had mentioned in the clip I brought him, and it wouldn’t be fair to them to include my name.

He gave me a smile and explained that the newspaper was already filled with articles, but added he could maybe squeeze a couple of paragraphs in. We rewrote my copy together and he suggested that my name be added, since I had come all this way. Lacking the proper amount of modesty and character for a boy my age I obliged him by adding my name and eliminating the guts of the article. The shortened version, below, was published in the next day’s paper.

I was a little embarrassed that I had consented to put my name in and omit some of the real stars of the game when I saw my article in the paper the next day. I was also excited, but concerned about the way my classmates would react.

Dennis Julison told me he appreciated me adding his name, but reminded me that his name was Dennis, not Don- I knew him for 8 years, that was my first official typo! A few of the real stars gave me the “cold shoulder” the next few days at the local pool, but it was all in good fun— I think.

I learned a lot about writing with that article. I learned that no matter how good you feel your article is, an editor can/will amend it as he/she sees fit.

My original article had details about the game, the stars, the key plays and the purpose, to raise money to buy a bench for the school. As you can see, the rewrite gave, as Joe Friday would say, “Just the facts” and not too many facts at that.

I learned what power the press can give. I was not among the top ten best players that day but, since I was the author, I was mentioned.

My dad was proud that I had been published before my first day of high school, so was I.

Thanks for reading to the end. If you have any comments, questions, concerns, or similar experiences, please comment.