The very first time I walked into the offices of the Delaware County Daily Times, a lifetime ago in our old Primos home, the very first person I met was Linda DeMeglio.
She was a tough, no-nonsense newspaper woman, who had been a reporter and editor before rising to the second-highest position in the newsroom, managing editor.
I was there to interview for a job on the copy desk. I would eventually talk to both the publisher and the executive editor, but it was DeMeglio, who exuded a belief in the newspaper's role in the community, who left the biggest impression on me. I would soon find out it was a characteristic shared by the women of the Daily Times.
But first, I would have another conversation with her, one every bit as emphatic as that first chat– but decidedly more depressing.
DeMeglio was calling to inform me that I was not getting the job. I was crest-fallen.
But not for long.
A couple of weeks later, she called me again. Surprisingly, there was another opening, this time for a day city editor's position. She wanted to know if I was still interested? She didn't have to ask twice. I've been here ever since.
On my first day at work, one of the first persons I met was a woman named Flo Kain. No doubt the name is familiar to longtime readers. Flo was an imposing presence, with a booming voice, and a persona that you never forgot. She also had been city editor. Now she was running the Times' Community News, in her inimitable style in a column called Delco Diary.
Flo came up to my desk and introduced herself to me. Sensing my apprehension at the new job, and having had held the same post, which involved handling the paper's team of community correspondents, she sought to reassure me. "If you have any questions, just ask me."
Then she offered this gem, as only Flo Kain could.
"We take this pretty seriously around here," Flo told me. "Don't mess it up." She might have used a bit more spicy language. That was Flo. Pure spice. She offered that very same advice years later on her last day at the Daily Times.
That attitude represents many of the women I've worked with at the Daily Times. Andi Getek is perhaps the single most tenacious reporter I've ever encountered, a reporter who doggedly pursued stories and struck fear in the hearts of politicians who learned she was sniffing around.
How tough a reporter was Geraldine Oliver? She once defied a judge and went to jail rather than reveal the source of one of her stories.
Marlene DiGiacomo was royalty in the Delaware County courts, routinely jousting with judges, lawyers and district attorneys.
Cindy Scharr and Rose Quinn for years handled perhaps the most important beat at the paper - the cops. They never got beat on a story, and they routinely developed stories from sources before anyone else ever got wind of them.
Patti Mengers could melt the type off our editorial page with her prose.
For years they worked under the firm tutelage of City Editor Bonnie Healy. Over in Features, Trish Cofiell and Lynn Keyser were rock solid.
That correspondent corps included more than a few legendary names of their own, women like Linda Reilly, an institution in Upper Darby; Barbara Ormsby, who has been covering news in this county for more than half a century, Bette Alburger, Helen Passaro, Marion Logue, Dot Reynolds, Terry Peters, Loretta Rodgers, Leslie Krowchenko and Susan Serbin.
That proud tradition is carried on today by Kathleen Carey.
I speak of all these women today because they have been done an injustice, as has every woman who has picked up a pen or a microphone and waded out into what was once a man's world, the journalism world.
That world has more than its share of stereotypes, the disheveled reporter, the crusty editor with a cigar stuck in his mouth and a bottle tucked less than discreetly in his bottom desk drawer.
Then there's the language. Wow, is there ever the language. And yes, I am as big an offender as anyone. The good Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary would blanch at some of my explosions.
All of those visages and stereotypes are slowly fading away, lifting almost as assuredly as the cigarette smoke that once permeated most newsrooms, so thick you could cut it with a knife.
But one stereotype has not gone away - in fact it's depressingly gaining new life in a blockbuster movie released this weekend. That is the notion that women might use something other than their smarts and dogged persistence to get a story.
My guess is that every one of the women I just discussed has heard those kinds of whispers.
I would be lying if I told you I have not heard those same kinds of rumors, usually from people feeling the wrath of a woman who was simply doing her job.
Why, I always wonder, is it OK to make that assumption about a woman, when it would never be made about a man?
The fact that it's false, it never happened - not during my stint at the Daily Times, and that now stands at 37 years - doesn't make it go away.
And now it is getting new life, from an unlikely - but very high profile - source. First an admission. I'm a huge Clint Eastwood fan. Spaghetti westerns? Love 'em. Dirty Harry? That series will stop me while channel surfing every time. After moving behind the lens, Eastwood racked up even more impressive credits with films like 'Unforgiven,' 'Gran Torino,' 'Mystic River,' and countless others. Which is why I was looking forward to his latest work, which hit theaters Friday.
And why I'm so disappointed with one aspect of the film.
"Richard Jewell" tells the story of the hero turned suspect in the bombing of Olympic Centennial Park in Atlanta in 1996. I have a couple of personal connections to the film. First, I was standing precisely where that bomb went off exactly one month before with my wife, son and daughter, while visiting my brother in Atlanta.
Second, and perhaps more important, the film delves into what happens when a story takes an unexpected twist. Jewell was the security guard who discovered the bomb, credited with getting people out of harm's way before it exploded. Still, one person was killed and more than 100 injured. It was a huge story. It was about to get bigger. The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, acting on a tip, reported - accurately at the time - that the FBI was now focusing on the hero, Jewell.
As it turns out, that wasn't the case. Jewell was eventually cleared. He sued several news outlets, including the Journal-Constitution. Most settled. The newspaper did not, and they prevailed in court.
It's the kind of story that makes you bolt up in bed in a cold sweat at 3 a.m. The kind of story that creates that rock in your gut that will not go away. It's one I lug around with me most days.
But that's not the reason I'm so disappointed in the movie.
Eastwood for some reason decided to take a little 'literary license,' alleging that the reporter involved, Kathy Scruggs, traded sex with the FBI agent heading the probe to get Jewell's name as the suspect being targeted in the investigation.
The problem with that is that it's not true, and plays into that old, damaging stereotype about women journalists.
Making matters worse is the fact that Scruggs is not here to defend herself. She died several years ago.
The Journal-Constitution has fired off a letter to Eastwood and Warner Brothers demanding a disclaimer. Those who worked with Scruggs are outraged at the portrayal, insisting nothing of the sort ever happened.
There is something else at work here as well.
It is not easy being in the newspaper business these days. While fighting desperately to keep our heads above water in a struggling industry rife with economic setbacks - including a seemingly endless series of cutbacks and layoffs - we also have been branded by some as the "enemy."
President Trump routinely torches the media as "fake news" and the "enemy of the people."
The movie touts itself as the story of a man whose life was ruined by the government and the media. No doubt there are many who would concur, not just in this case but in others every day.
It's ironic that in telling that story, the movie peddles in some "fake news" itself.
In doing so, it reinvigorates an old, offensive and misogynistic stereotype of female journalists.
It breathes new life into those who would point a finger at the press and scream "fake news."
In the process it does a terrible disservice to women journalists and women in general.
Including the long, glorious list of women I've encountered in 37 years at the Daily Times.
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