PAPERWORK: Was I too busy paddling to see the stories?

For me the newspaper game began in 1966, as a university freshman.

I was working for the student newspaper on “the desk.” That meant I was a copy reader/editor.

The editor handed me a story, “Here. Read this and fix the errors.” I tried to remember all those lessons I learned in all those English classes.

I learned the desk was about a lot more than spelling, sentence structure and punctuation. Dates, names, numbers, anything that was stated as fact had to be checked.

Did the story make sense? Were there holes, questions unasked?

I learned to get the facts right. I also learned to question where facts came from.

In newsrooms, we call that attribution. Says who?

Now, looking back some 54 years, I wish I could go back. I’d pack a bagful of hindsight and redo some choices I made. About who is telling the story.

Reporters and editors decide every day which stories to tell and who to talk to.

Many choices were automatic. Meetings and events.

Every day there are meetings to cover. Government at work. Reporters had to be there — the eyes and ears of the people.

And events. Can’t ignore parades on Sunday or clubs and service organizations and community festivals.

All reporters lament the stories put on a back burner, forever simmering. There is only so much time and space and bodies to do the job. Key elements that have been shriveling for some time.

I could point out stories I left untold, but my regrets are more about overall approach and focus.

It took me a few years to realize the heartbeat of any news story comes from people. They make the news. Or the news makes them. It certainly revolves around them.

Then you begin to see there are people involved who have a voice that is unheard.

They stand on the shore, along the banks unnoticed as we sail on by.

I use that image for a reason. It’s been in my head for a few days.

Since Jim, a friend and fellow journalist, shared this on Facebook:

“This might be my favorite journalism-related quote. It’s from historian Will Durant: ‘Civilization is a stream with banks. The stream is sometimes filled with blood from people killing, stealing, shouting and doing things historians usually record; while on the banks, unnoticed, people build homes, make love, raise children, sing songs, write poetry and even whittle statues. The story of civilization is the story of what happened on the banks.’

“Here’s to more news from the banks soon.”

Thanks Jim. Got me thinking about my learning years.

All those meetings I covered involved government decisions that impacted folks lining the banks.

I tried to tell them what was coming.

In other words, hey, you’re taxes are going up ... or your neighborhood is going to change ... or that water you’re drinking has been tested.

Sometimes meetings would be packed with citizens. Upset and angry because they didn’t like what was coming. Their voice was heard but it was always cut short.

When this happens — people actually showing up — reporters perk up. Suddenly the mission is back. Tell the people’s story.

But ... what if no one came to speak out?

I let being a reporter become a job. Go to meeting. Take notes. Write story. Hope people read it ... because it’s important to them.

But was it ... important to them?

Here’s the problem. I did not knock on their doors and ask them: Is this important to you? If not, what is?

There were times I did, but not enough.

If I could rewrite my history, I would row to the shore. I’d walk the banks more than I did.

To see. To touch. To smell and taste. To listen.

To understand.

LONNY CAIN, of Ottawa, is the retired managing editor of The Times. Email to lonnyjcain@gmail.com or mail The Times, 110 W. Jefferson St., Ottawa, IL 61350.