When I began in journalism way too many years ago, one of
the first things I did was write obituaries of well-known people who had died
in town. I remember tapping out a story at the North Bay Nugget for a Mr.
Caswell, who had died in Sundridge. Turns out he was quite the wealthy fellow
and well regarded around the North. Later that day, after the paper had gone to
press, I could hear heavy shoes thumping down the stairs from the executive
offices above the newsroom. As the
rookie reporter, my desk was tucked in the little slanting alcove beneath the
staircase. That’s when the esteemed Mr. Mort Feldman, the publisher, found me and spoke to me. “Nice job,” he said, among other things.
I will never forget that. A visit to the newsroom by Mr.
Feldman was a rare event, but to have him speak to me was a treat.
I was thinking of that this week as I wrote another obituary
for another well-known fellow. The only thing is that most of the time now, I
know the people I write about. That sucks. After 45 years of writing the news,
I have been fortunate to befriend so many people. That means I usually get to
write their obits when they die. I know where they worked, who they worked
with and who can make comments about the deceased. It’s one of those times I get to write many
nice things about people and the editor doesn’t red pencil any of the
adjectives.
The Canadian Press Stylebook, the bible for all Canadian reporters, says obits should be brief, but CP dedicated two and half pages about how to write an obit.
There are many, many people who don’t get mentioned for all the
good things they did when they were alive. They should get something written about them so their friends and family members can appreciate them a bit more.
Still, it’s not something I look forward to.
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