EDITOR'S NOTE: In June 2004 I began a new venture as managing editor of both Northfield News and Faribault Daily News. This column originally appeared in the Northfield News on Feb. 24, 2006.
You know what they say about assumptions, but in my modest opinion, I believe that most of us on the writing side of the newspaper industry got into the business to make a difference. Most reporters I've run into got started because of a simple belief that what they do matters ... to someone, and that by telling the stories we do, we can improve the world. Now, as a veteran in the reporting business, I know that there are numerous times when reality attempts to squash that altruistic sense in all reporters. Numerous times I've endured my own internal battles with the doubt bug: Why do we do what we do if no one cares? Everyone knows there's enough reasons out there to cash it in and find a job that you don't have to take home with you at night, and on weekends ... and on vacations. But then magically you experience one of those crystallizing moments that makes you remember why it is that you want to put up with crushing deadlines, odd work hours and those who would curse all "media." I had one of those days last week, and it re-energized me as a journalist. I was working to layout out the "Portraits" special edition that you will see as an insert in today's paper. I was coming up hard against the deadline and just didn't have time to take the incoming phone call. But I did. On the other end, there was a woman who greeted me with the most pained voice I've heard in a long time. It harshly snapped me into the moment. The woman asked if I was responsible for what goes into the paper, and I cautiously answered that yes I was. She went on to tell me this story: She picked up the Feb. 8 edition of the News and found on the B section back page a story about one Faribault teen's battle against her meth addiction. She said she was fascinated by it and carefully read over every detail. And then she added, with a surge of emotion in her voice, that she too had a loved one battling a meth addiction and that she had clipped the story out and sent it to that person in the hope that it might do her loved one some good. I was stunned. Normal human empathy kicked in and I felt compelled to share with the woman that I have some experience in dealing with loved ones who have addictions. I have four older brothers who have battled alcoholism all of their adult lives, and that only one has managed to break his addiction. I shared with her the pain and heartbreak I've felt knowing that the best I can do is offer support to them because at some point they can only help themselves. I admitted that I didn't have a personal connection (that I know of) to someone with a meth addiction, so I couldn't speak about it with authority. But I offered her my verbal support as best I could and thanked her for calling. She kindly responded and offered hope that one day my family members also would find a way to overcome their addictions, and added, "I want to thank you for publishing that story. I want you to know that stories like that make a difference." We exchanged salutations and she hung up. I never did get her name. After I hung up, I lost focus on the "Portraits" project for a while, and let what happened sink in. I've had moments such as that before when I was a reporter, and someone would call to tell me the work I had done made a difference. But I admit it's been a while since I've had such a moment as an editor. As I've ruminated over that phone call the last week or so, I've found again a renewed enthusiasm for what we do as a hometown newspaper. It's an awesome thought that we have the ability everyday to change lives, change our community and to improve the plight of those less fortunate. Now you tell me that wouldn't put a skip in your step on the way to work. Don't get me wrong, I've always loved what I do, and anyone close to me can tell you I live for this job. But on those days when you know you've made a difference, it's like frosting on a cake. Ma'am, I don't know who you are, but it is I who owe you a belated thank you. Thank you for reminding me why newspapers are so important. And I wish the best to your loved one. -- Devlyn Brooks is managing editor of the Northfield News.
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