Je suis Charlie

Oh, sometime last week whilst working high atop the ivory tower at 5 South Main Street in Clarkston (actually I was looking down at all the little people trying to stay warm in single digit weather, and smiling smugly, sipping a hot coffee) I got a phone call that went something like this:
Caller: ‘So, Don, news guy in charge, what do you think about what’s happening in France.?
Moi: ‘Not much, I’m in Michigan and it’s too cold here to think.? My joke didn’t resonate. So, I floundered on. ‘I think it’s tragic like the rest of the civilized world, of course. I think I might write my column and headline it, I am Charlie.?
Caller: ‘Definitely tragic. But, they were threatened before. They were told if they made fun of the prophet Mohamed, something like this would happen.?
Je suis Don: ‘Yes, but it’s their job. Journalists get threatened and killed all the time, but they still do their job. You do this job not for the pay, it sucks, but because it’s a calling.?
Caller: ‘It wasn’t a newspaper or a news magazine, it’s like Mad magazine here. Comics.?
Moi: ‘Well, maybe. I have never read it, but I think their cartoons were editorial commentary.?
Caller: ‘Would you risk your life, right now, Don Rush, knowing you could get killed and leave your two sons fatherless for a job??
Me: ‘Ah. Duh. Hmm??
I kinda blanked out there and maybe answered off the cuff, ‘I’m a small potatoes guy. I like, no I love community journalism and so I don’t think that situation is relevant to me.?
Stumble, fumble, ‘Thanks. Good bye.?
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I love looking at old newspapers and in particular I like looking back at our old Oxford Leader newspapers. In my Oxford office over 100 years of newspaper archives are less than 15 feet away from my desk and I love to touch, smell and read them.
Started on April 15, 1898, The Leader used to run political, editorial cartoons on the front page quite often. I am sure it was a service the publisher purchased. Some of it was quite good, usually national and world politics.
Safe. Nothing local. Non controversial.
In the early 1990s we at The Leader had a guy who was a pretty good cartoonist come to us with this proposal, ‘If you pay me, I will draw editorial cartoons for you. You give me the idea and I will draw it.?
I do not remember the issue (though if I weren’t so lazy, I could get off my duff and walk less than 15 feet from my desk and find out), but it seems to me the Oxford Village Common Council made some decision that didn’t sit right with us high and mighty newspaper folk.
And, as the Fourth Estate, we thought we should editorialize about it.
We did. We called up the artist dude and he drew us up a political cartoon. Each of the council people were characterized in the council chambers. Either above or under we wrote, ‘The Village People.?
Holy cow, did that cause a stink — amongst those on council! They called and yelled at the publisher. They called and yelled at the editor. They called and yelled at me. They called and yelled at the ladies taking classified ads. They called, canceled their subscriptions and threatened to sue for libel if we did not retract and apologize for our damaging portrayal of them.
I think what set them off — at least some of the council men — was there was a notion that members of the popular music group, The Village People, were not heterosexual. And, by putting the locals? faces near the name, The Village People, we were in some way inferring something about their sexuality.
We outted nobody.
Nor did we apologize.
We did invite them to our office so they could vent, share their concerns, and to hear ours. I believe at least one upset councilman re-subscribed to the newspaper.
* * *
So, what about what happened in Paris last week? What do you think, terrorists didn’t like the content so they assassinated the journalists. They killed the proverbial messenger and others in the way. Twelve dead.
Do you think this newspaper should be more opinionated? Should we keep the heat on the locally elected and appointed government types? Let me know, e-mail, Don@ShermanPublications.org.

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