Learning Experience Well Worth Time Here

The only other time I sat down at the computer to pound out this kind of column, circumstances were different. I had been told several hours prior that my sportswriting days at the Marshall Chronicle were through.

My words - jotted out hastily - were a mushy farewell to the community where I had first experienced the joy and wonder of professional journalism.

Someone once told me that, in this business, you'll end up getting fired at least once. Not that it made me feel any better. But I swore the same would never happen again - that next time, the goodbye would be by my own volition, and my words would not be a teary-eyed departure, but rather a thought-out, positive look back at this business and the people I worked with.

Welcome to next time. After more than 22 months in Ogemaw County - an adventure I've come to label "Northeastern Michigan Exposure" - I am moving on to greener pastures.

When I interviewed for this position in June 1990, I had limited background in news writing. My journalism resume contained plenty of sports, light features and humor.opinion columns, but little in the way of hard news.

The Herald's managing editor - a wonderful mentor named Jeffrey Savitskie, whose name I could barely pronounce, let alone spell correctly - had a slew of applicants. That's the way it is in this competitive business. I'm sure many had far more news writing experience, or had more solid credentials on their resume.

But for some reason, he decided to take a gamble and hire me as West Branch's answer to Jimmy Olsen, cub reporter.

And for that I am grateful. What I have learned from this job is infinite.

The newspaper business is very competitive - not just in the hiring process, but a s a whole. There are people who believe journalists "do lunch" with political bigwigs, or have late-night pow-wows to follow party lines and decide just what is and is not news.

Nothing is further from the truth. True, my job as a reporter is to find out the facts. But it is also to "scoop" the competition, to produce a story the other papers - or even other writers at the same paper - don't have. We are elated when we have the inside track, deflated when beaten out on a hot piece.

The competitive edge. Not only is Jeffrey one of the most competent journalistic minds I have ever known, he is competitive. Like most journalists, he hates to be burned by the competition.

But there is more to Jeffrey than this. He is quick to suggest different angles on stories or point out flaws in writing technique. He can play "devil's advocate" with anyone on any topic, and do it well.

Jeffrey has an uncanny ability to analyze his workers individually, to know their limits and push them as hard as they can if they are not reaching what he feels are attainable goals. From personal experience, this can be frustrating ... mostly because if I'm not reaching those limits, I'm not sure who is harder to deal with - him or myself.

Jeffrey is also one of the most honest, fair people I have come across - qualities which make him not only a fine journalist, where being unbiased and honest are essential, but a fine human being.

I have been very lucky and fortunate to learn as much as I have from him in this business, a serious business where we are paid to watch history happen, write about what we have seen, heard and smelled, then do it again tomorrow.

And that's what counts. Today's story might be a Pulitzer winner. Or maybe it was a "no-brainer." It doesn't matter, because the news business is not about today - it's about tomorrow. In this business, no one is any better than what they will do tomorrow.

And for me, tomorrow is a whole new frontier, a vista waiting to be discovered. Ogemaw County, thanks for tolerating me and allowing me to be part of you - if only for a little bit.

This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.

Moms Should Top "Most Beautiful" List

People Magazine has published yet another edition of what it perceives as the world's "Most Beautiful People." What everyone seems to realize - without saying as much - is that the headline and ensuing photostory are not quite accurate.

"Most Beautiful Celebrities" would be more appropriate. This edition is filled with mini-essays and pictures of movie stars and pop singers.

Yes, they might be beautiful. Certainly on the outside, possibly in their souls. But are the people People named the world's Most Beautiful indeed the most beautiful? Everyone has their opinion. Mine is I don't think so.

I say this because one of the most beautiful women I know somehow failed to catch the editor's eye.

My mom.

Maybe she hasn't starred in blockbuster movies or hit Number One With A Bullet. That's OK. I didn't realize these were prerequisites for being beautiful.

They're not.

What makes Mom beautiful? Well, for starters, she took on a pretty difficult assignment when she became a mother. Especially since I was the first born, the oldest of three.

As many people have commented, raising a child is on-the-job training with no instruction book or corporate policy. While I do't remember a lot about my infant years, I think there could have been easier first babies to raise than me.

But this isn't about me, it's about Mom ... even though I couldn't write this without being a part of the story. After all, this is my perception.

What else makes Mom beautiful? She makes excellent chicken soup. The best. The type that head honchos at Campbell's would taste and say, "Hire her at any cost!"

If there were chicken soup cooking contests at county fairs, Mom would be the uncontested Chicken Soup Queen.

Mom also made the best Friday Night Sabbath Dinner this side of Jerusalem. Yes, it was predictable: chicken, wild rice, mashed potatoes and plenty of iced tea. But it was the sort of "predictable" we Gabas thrived on.

There's more to Mom's beauty than cooking, though. I think the biggest, most important, definitely most beautiful part about her is, she's been with me when I need or want her.

Mom has shared my triumphs - such as my Eagle Scout Court of Honor and graduation from high school and college.

She has been part of my daily routine, from homework and driving me to youth group activities to attending orchestra concerts and Little League baseball games.

In times of difficulty - and there have been far too many - Mom has been there to ease the pain.

Mom has been there for me, whether as a shoulder to lean on or an ear to hear my complaints. She and Dad reared their children in a loving, caring atmosphere, always showing attention to their children and never ignoring even the most minute details.

Mom has lived up to the very difficult job requirements of being a mom.

I can't be in Detroit to help Mom celebrate Mother's Day No. 28 this Sunday. But I raise a glass and offer a toast to her, and all other mothers who are at the top of their children's Most Beautiful lists.

Happy Mother's Day.

This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.

Hal's Latest Victory Is A Spot In Cooperstown

The phone call was a complete surprise to Harold. The 70-year-old Detroit native, now living in the suburbs, had hoped and prayed this special call would come through.

And now, as he listened to the voice of a Tampa Tribune reporter, he was in shock.

"Congratulation, Harold - you've been named to the Baseball Hall of Fame!"

What was Harold "Prince Hal" Newhouser's first reaction to the news? "Paul, I thought he was kidding me. I didn't know what to think," Newhouser said.

Even after the Detroit-area and national media began calling him for quotes, and stopping by for photos, he didn't fully believe his 30-year wait had ended.

"I told them, "You know, I haven't even been called by the Veteran's Committee, so I can't even verify that I've actually made it," Newhouser said. "And what's really funny is, the committee had my old phone number, not the new one, so they couldn't get a hold of me initially. Then the phone lines were all tied up, and they couldn't get through."

Verification finally came on St. Patrick's Day, and now Newhouser can circle August 2 on his calendar. The day his bronze mug joins baseball's other immortals on the Cooperstown walls.

Now, I never saw Hal Newhouser pitch for the Detroit Tigers. Never witnessed the lanky southpaw earn any of his 207 victories, or his 1945 World Series-clinching triumph over the Chicago Cubs.

No, I never saw him pitch. I did much better. I batted against the newest addition to the Baseball Hall of Fame. One of the perks of growing up with a former baseball pitcher as a next-door neighbor.

When playing pick-up streetball while in junior high and high school, I would trot to Newhouser's house and ask our resident baseball pitcher to toe the slab for us.

Newhouser, ever the kind and generous one, would always agree to take his place on our makeshift mound. Even after a full day on the job. He'd pitch an inning or two, then let us go back to facing someone of our own size and age.

When not facing us on the mound, Newhouser would tell us stories, such as about his duels with Cleveland Indian pitching rival Bob Feller. I might have grown up during the Tiger "depression years" of Jason Thompson and Duke Sims, but was brought up on the gospel of Hank Greenberg and Virgil Trucks.

And for years, we rooted for Newhouser to be voted into Cooperstown, where the best of the best are represented.

He was our neighbor, our friend.

But somewhere along the way, the voters - baseball's writers and Veteran's Committee - shoved Newhouser to the side. The excuse was, his best years came during World War II, when many of the top players were overseas.

Newhouser was voted the American League's Most Valuable Player in 1944-45, the only pitcher - and one of only nine players ever - to win the honor back-to-back. he won 29 games in '44, 25 more in '45 and a pair in the World Series that year.

In fact, 1945 saw Newhouser win the rare Pitcher's Triple Crown - leading the AL in wins, strikeouts and earned run average. He is the last AL pitcher to do this.

Newhouser acknowledges his wartime success. "But I won more than 200 games in 17 years," he said. "What about the other 150?"

What about those other seasons? Indeed, when the Boys of Summer came home after the war, the Detroit-born pitcher proceeded to win 26, 17, 21, 18 and 15 games the following five seasons - all with the league at full strength. This success, Newhouser said, should have been enough to quiet the critics.But he waited. Newhouser waited for the call since the early 1960s, never knowing if he was close to making the cut. he felt he belonged, but had no control over the decision.

Waiting is something Newhouser had to learn over the years, because when he had his game face on, he was the 1940s "Angry Young Man." He - and others - remember those tirades, when he would shatter light bulbs in the player's tunnel after being yanked from the mound.

But since leaving the field, Newhouser has mellowed. The Hal Newhouser I know does not resemble the one I missed by a few decades.

Except in the win column, where Hal's 208th victory is his ticket to Cooperstown.

Congratulations, Hal. The voters finally figured out something I've known for years.

This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.

Arguments Against School Are Flawed

ANNOUNCER: Hello, and welcome to "Let's Pretend!" - the call-in radio show where you, the voting public, get to have your wildest fantasies and opinions shattered by Paul the Prophet.

Today's topic is the March 27 West Branch-Rose City new school millage vote. And now ... here's Paul!

PAUL: Thank you, and welcome to the show. Let's go to the phone lines. Hello, you're on "Let's Pretend!"

CALLER: Yeah, I think it's just terrible that the school district is holding this election when all the senior citizens are down in Florida. It's a conspiracy, I tell you. They're the ones who have limited income, and they don't have a say in the vote.

PAUL: Hold on. I think your logic is all messed up here. First of all, there's this thing called an absentee ballot, which is designed for voters who will be out of the area to vote anyway. So saying the snowbirds are being denied their chance to vote is 100 percent wrong.

Secondly, having the seniors out of town has nothing to do with setting March 27 as the millage vote. The first one was held in late September, and the district had to wait six months before having another election. March 27 happens to be 181 days after the first vote.

One more thing: If this vote fails, the district still has a chance to get a third vote in during the current fiscal year, which ends September 30.

That's why the election is taking place now.

OK, who's next?

CALLER: I am. Listen, I am sick and tired of hearing how crowded these schools are. When I was growing up, I was in a one-room school, and I got a good education. Kids today got it easy.

PAUL: You might be right, sir. But schools today have to follow certain guidelines, laws which were not around when you were growing up. If they don't, then they lose out on state funds.

It's almost like the state is holding money hostage. For example, if there are too may students in the classrooms, the schools lose money because of overcrowding.

Also, this is a lot different world than when you were growing up. Kids have to learn how to use computers. Even 10 years ago, this was unheard of. Using and learning this kind of technology is mandatory if today's students want to have any hope of job success in the future.

Hello, you're on the air. What's your name?

CALLER: This is Bill. I'm a first-time caller.

PAUL: Welcome to the show, Bill. What's on your mind?

CALLER: Well, I'm from West Branch. I live in the city, have all my life. I think it's pretty lousy that the district decided to place this new school out in the boonies, next to the high school. I think putting the high school out there was pretty stupid, too.

PAUL: Well, Bill, where should the new school be?

CALLER: It should be in West Branch. In the city. That's where it belongs.

PAUL: In the city? Where in West Branch are you going to find adequate room for a junior high school? I don't think there is any room.

Also, saying that a new school belongs in West Branch is pretty absurd. If anything, having it near Ogemaw Heights High School - in the middle of the district - is probably the best place for this school

Furthermore, it's called the West Branch-Rose City district. The junior high is supposed to be for students from both communities. I find it pretty amazing that other districts, such as Whittemore-Prescott and Standish-Sterling, don't squabble over territorial rights like this district does.

I think it's a pretty childish, terribly biased and stupid argument. We have time for one more caller. Hello?

CALLER: I'm sick and tired of my taxes going up, of footing the bill. If we get a new school, that means my taxes are going to rise. I can't afford it anymore.

PAUL: Well, I can't argue with that one. Yes, taxes will go up - about 2.3 mills for the new school, along with 1.8 mills to run the school for two years. That's also on the ballot.

But I also think it's worth it. Education is power. It is the key to success. And I believe that a new school, with all the advantages it offers to today's youth, is worth the price.

This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.

Only One Way To Go After You Reach The Top

Remember Eddie "The Eagle" Edwards? In Calgary, at the 1988 Winter Olympics, he became one of the most popular and best-loved skiers of modern times, mostly because he resembled anything BUT a skier on the slopes.

Eddie is my Hero of the Snow, the Icon of Ice, my Star of the Slopes. He is my god. Not as in, "Our Father, who art in Heaven," but "MY GOD, HAS HE KILLED HIMSELF YET? AND IF NOT, WHY NOT?"

Oh, yes, i remember Eddie. Last weekend, I transcended into the Twilight Zone, attacking the ski slopes of Emmet County, courtesy of my friend Oly and Harbor Springs' Nub Nob.

And like Eddie, I faced the adversity with a gleam in my eye. A lump in my throat. Plenty of medical insurance to boot.

Please understand: at least eddie, despite his awkwardness and self-admitted limited talent, had the shot at Olympic gory, I mean glory.

I ain't even close.

It's been 16 years since I clomped around in a pair of ski boots and locked the heel into those contraptions which glide and slide through and over snow.

But there I was, next to Oly, waiting in line. Not for the tow rope, like I used to back at Milford's Alpine Village. But the chair lift.

The chair lift is skiing's version of a carnival ride. It takes skill and coordination to properly sit down at just the right moment and angle the ski poles upwards so you don't clip the ground.

It also takes good balance, because - unlike the Tilt-A-Whirl and other carnival-type rides - there's no crossbar to keep you from falling forward, off the bench and into the snow.

And, contrary to popular belief, light, fluffy snow is not always sufficient for a soft fall.

"Voyage to the Top of the Nob" only takes about five minutes, which is cool ... because this is my first time in this contraption, and my nerves are shot.

Ah, the top. Finally. We get off the bench. Easy does it. Down the snow ramp, and PRESTO! I am calm, cool and collected. Full of confidence. After all, I did not fall over, despite my paranoia.

Oly sings a Van Halen lyric: "Standing on top of the world!" He's right. From where we're standing now, the skiers are the bottom - the ones we can make out - look like frantic little ants, scurrying around the lodge.

I fumble around with the poles, making sure they feel great. Slide my goggles over the glasses - what, you think I want to break them? - and follow Oly toward the beginner course.

Of course, Oly has no business being in this area. In Colorado, it would probably be illegal for someone of his experience to be in this area.

But that's OK, because frankly, I'm still worried. Not because I'll run into a flock of trees. or because I'll trip into a power transmission line and recreated July 4th fireworks. No, I'm worried that I'll embarrass myself in front of good-looking, single babes who will giggle uncontrollably and make comments like, "Where's the camcorder? Let's send this one off to America's Most Suicidal Home Videos!"

Here we are. Top of the world, for a little while. Oly leads, I follow. Hey, I'm doing this. Slight turn, turn again, pick up a little speed, straighten out, down the chute, bingo! Rockin' good time! Party on, Oly!

"Party on, Paul!"

Hey, Eddie the Eagle, eat your heart out. This is child's play. Ain't nothing to it. Piece of cake.

OK. Here I am. Top of the world, looking down again. I am off. Off and skiing. Soaring down the mountain, 90 miles an hour, poles angled behind me, teeth gritted, knees bent, body down. More speed. I have the need for speed. A cold, hard wind whips into my face. I do not mind. I barely notice. I have left Eddie behind. He is nothing. I am superior. I am the greatest. I am God. I am Rickey Henderson, the greatest man in the world! Hell, I AM ALBERTO TOMBO! IA AM ...

Spinning, face down, 90 miles an hour, toward a large snow bank and 20 thick trees. I am helpless. I am cold.

I am humiliated.

"You are Alberto? NOT!" Oly looks down on me, laughing his blonde, curly head off. He has seen through my deception.

I am not Alberto. I am not Oly. I am not even Eddie. Eagles don't fall. Not this way.

Maybe next time. Let's do it again.

This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.

Ogemaw Would Gain From West Branch Games

"Olympics" is actually a Greek term which means, "lotsa money up for grabs."

After seeing how much cash can be transfused into a community through the Olympics, I think Ogemaw County should bid to host The Games.

Some may scoff at this suggestion. To build the proper facilities - such as areas for the bobsled and luge runs, and mountains for the ski jumps - would take lotsa money.

But, hey! By using the proper planning, along with existing buildings and sites, I think the Olympiad of Ogemaw would be a rousing success.

To add a little local flair, we could have Olympic athletes compete in exhibition contests unique to our area. For instance:

Alpine Road Kill: Athletes score points for nailing deer, turkey, possum and other stray animals crossing county roads. Additional points are awarded for the dollar amount of car or truck damage.

Speed Houghton Avenue: Police officers have to ticket as many downtown West Branch drivers as possible in a 24-hour period.

Do The Loop: A timed test of driving skill, the goal is to pull in and out of every business on "Hamburger Hill" without hitting other cars.

Weekend Weightlifting: This is a two-day, combined event featuring "Schnapps Shots" and the ever-popular "12-Ounce Curls." Whoever passes out first after each event wins. The Gold Medal will be awarded at the Ogemaw County Jail.

Skidway Rally: A triathalon where athletes (1) ride snowmobiles for 26.2 miles, (2) catch five dish during an ice fishing contest on Skidway Lake, and (3) bungee-jump over the Rifle River.

The Games can open with a parade down Houghton Avenue, to M-55, to M-33, to Rose City, and back to West Branch. It can be a combination parade and marathon event.

Leading the parade can be the Official Mascot of the West Branch Games, "Smiley" - a man wearing a costume depicting the water tower near the I-75 business loop.

After 19 hours of political speeches proclaiming what a great moment in history The Games are, we will let them begin. And Ogemaw County can rake in major bucks.

We could use it.

This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.

No Place Like Home, But Where's Fan Support?

This year's Ogemaw Heights basketball team has had its problems. Plenty of youth. Little experience. Coach Jim Beach's letter to Santa Claus - he wanted a 6-foot-8 tree to plant in the middle of the lane - was ignored.

The Falcons are 0-3 heading into this Friday's game at Roscommon. They won't return home until January 10, against North East Michigan Conference rival Pinconning.

Yes, it's tough when you're rebuilding. But what's truly disheartening about Heights is its apparent lack of student and community spirit.

At Ogemaw's home opener, an administrator looked out at the sparse crowd and sighed. "If this is all we're going to get for the first basketball game of the year, it's going to be a long year."

I quickly agreed. Row upon row of Ogemaw Heights bleacher was empty, not even close to the SRO group which invaded the same location less than a month before, when the Girls Class B District games drew more than a thousand pumped-up fans to the hardwood matchup.

I do believe fan turnout will improve, now that Christmas Shopping Season is finished. But strength in numbers is only part of the answer. Therefore, I am offering some suggestions that will not only improve fan attendance at the games, but improve the show of spirit, since Heights is saddled with the additional problem of not having a cheerleading squad on the floor this winter.

Home court advantage should put fear into the hearts of visiting opponents. Instead, the Falcons' gym is like a Holiday Inn - inviting teams to come in, kick their shoes off and enjoy the stay.

Ogemaw needs fan support to bring home court advantage back to town.

Here are some ideas which may help:

Wear an article of clothing with "Ogemaw Heights" on it. If this is not possible, do the next-best thing: wear something brown and gold. This will help show the Ogemaw faithful are united.

Come to the game :fired up." Be prepared to yell and scream.

Ogemaw Heights should furnish a Pep Band - perhaps members of the Jazz Band. They can play the National Anthem, Ogemaw Fight Song, and other one-minute (time-out) pieces.

All this is good for starters (and even the bench). It's a sign of fan support. Heights players can look up in the stands and see they have the support of their peers and families, and even other people who never thought once about going to a Falcons game, but finally decided to come just for the heck of it.

Now ...

In order to intimidate the opposition, you look to the best. The Cleveland Browns' "Dawg Pound," Michigan State University's "Hockey Hysterics," the Atlanta Braves' "Tomahawk Choppers," and Minnesota Twins' "Homer Hankies" are all legitimate candidates. But for hoops action, no one knows fan power like UCLA.

For years, the Bruins were mowing down the opposition. True, they had some pretty good players (Kareem Whatshisface did OK). But don't be fooled. UCLA is headquarters for the most powerful guerrilla fan tactics known to the sports world. They make cheering an art form.

When the starting line-up for the visiting team is announced, the following catcalls could be used:

Starter No. 1: "SO WHAT?"
Starter No. 2: "BIG DEAL!"
Starter No. 3: "WHO CARES?"
Starter No. 4: "WHO'S HE?"
Startet No. 5: "GO HOME!"

Fans can even bring huge cardboard signs with the messages written in large letters - sort of a "cue card" method of cheering.

When the visiting team goes to the foul line, the crowd should count his dribbles out loud and wave their arms wildly as he prepares to shoot. They can even add keychains (with keys) to add to the noise level. All this might distract him from the shot.

When an opponent commits a foul, let him know he has by chanting: "You! You! You!" This is even more effective if you point at the guilty party.

The Falcons' gym might have a new, second scoreboard, but you can still fool the opponent. How? Easy. A false countdown can be started. For example: With 20 seconds remaining, start counting, "10, 9, 8 ..." One word of caution: This should not be done when Ogemaw has the ball.

This "how-to" is not meant to slight Whittemore-Prescott basketball. The Cardinals' are just as welcome to adopt these guidelines to better fan-team management. As it evolves, both teams should start bearing the fruit of their efforts. And pretty soon, you'll see Ogemaw and Whittemore in the Class B and C finals.

You're welcome.

This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.