Section 1:
Q: OK. Again you were talking about the fact
that you had just come back from your
advertising career and the fact that you
wanted to well at the Tribune.
A: I wanted to do well at the Register, yes,
so I did. I really pitched in and worked
really hard and I got off to a good start.
About that time, the Tribune needed somebody
to strengthen their staff, pardon the
expression, and so I was transferred to the
Tribune. I was asked to take a job on the
Tribune. Of course I did it because my
philosophy is that if somebody asks you to do
something, and you're working for a good
company you better do it. So I went over to
the Tribune and I started producing a lot of
local kind of stories that were very
appropriate to the Tribune audience. So, Jim
Gannon, who then was editor of the
Register...no, he came along, he was managing
editor. Anyway, he asked me to start doing a
column called "Shotwell's City." So I did.
And I wrote that column until the Tribune
eventually folded and then Gannon said that
he wanted to continue the column in the
Register, but the Register being a statewide
paper, they dropped the word "City" and made
it just called "Shotwell."
Q: Why do you think it was that he looked to
you to write that column?
A: Primarily because I had that background. I
was born and reared in Des Moines, and it
was...anytime they'd tear down a building, I
could remember when it was built or I knew
somebody who worked there. Or if somebody
died, I very often would know something about
them or when Riverview Park closed, I
remembered the original Riverview Park. When
Val Aire closed. I attended the first dance
that was ever held at Val Aire. I was always
able to take a current situation and relate
it to some kind of history. So that was one
of the things I did.
And the other thing I did was just exercise
the kinds of initiatives that reporters do.
You know, reporters are a strange breed in
that very often if anybody suggests a story
to them, you can bet that's one they won't do
because they don't want to do anything that
wasn't their idea. I operated on the opposite
principle. If anybody on the staff ever
suggested a story to me, that is the next
thing I'd do. And many times I developed some
pretty bad stories that way because not every
story you hear about, you get tipped on, is
going to be that good. But I figured, anytime
another reporter would give me a tip, just
out of respect for the other reporter, I
would attempt to develop it. And more often
than not, I would get a good piece out of it.
And so I liked to think that I was going kind
of against the grain in that respect.
Q: Can you give any examples of good stories
that you developed from tips from other
reporters?
A: I wouldn't know now, but there were a lot
of them because when you're writing a column
like that, well, almost every week or so, a
reporter will, some other reporter will for
some reason will run across a story that he
or she doesn't want to develop, so you do it
for them. --
Section 2:
Q: Tell us the story about the coverage of
the High School Band Festival in Mason City
[IA] and Meredith Wilson.
A: OK, that's one of my favorite stories. I
flew up there with Don Ultang to cover this
band festival and of course, part of that was
the big parade. And Meredith Wilson, of
course, led the parade and put on quite a
show. But, by that time, the Broadway musical
"The Music Man" was going great guns.
Meredith Wilson, as you know, had a long
history of musical activity on radio. He was
a famous guy, even then, and everything had
been written about him. I was watching this
parade, and I was just tormented. You know,
what can I do that could possibly be
different. And so I'm in the airplane riding
home and I'm still struggling with myself
whether I should just come back and write a
story about Meredith Wilson did this,
Meredith Wilson did that and I finally was
just running around in my head. I opened, I
just thought, this line came to me. "Meredith
Wilson's strode through the streets of town,
his 76 trombones close at hand." And I
thought, "Hey, I wonder if I can write this
76 trombone story and make it work?" So, I'm
writing in the airplane as we were coming
home, you know, and I'm writing this down. So
by the time we landed, I was about half way
through this thing. And you could actually
sing this story to the tempo and melody and
the beat of "76 Trombones." So I got back in
the office and we're pushing deadline. I'm
sitting at my typewriter and the first
edition deadline is coming up, so I'm writing
in "takes," which means I write a couple
lines at a time and some editor would grab it
and take it over and paste it up, and I'd
write a couple more lines. So I'm writing in
takes, and it finally got in the paper that
way. And it ran, and I've had a lot of fun
with that since. I've heard from Meredith
Wilson every year after that. He'd write to
me. We'd send Christmas cards. He always had
something nice to say about that. About a
year ago, I went up to, they had reunion
Wallingham, so I went back up and Bob Ray was
with me. And they had a tribute to Meredith
Wilson and so I had an opportunity to refer
to that again.
Q: Is that how you visualized it would look
in the paper?
A: This is the story the way it came out.
This is the picture of Meredith Wilson, of
course. But that was a lot of fun. --
Section 3:
Q: Sure. Also, how about your conversation
with Harry Truman? That was before you were
at the Register, but you were a radio
reporter back then. You had a half-hour with
him.
A: Yes, I did. It was in 1948 and the Truman
campaign train was coming through Iowa, and
they were going to make a stop at Oxford,
Iowa, which is kind of a suburb of Iowa City
[IA]. So the train did indeed stop and I had
an engineer with me. So I got the microphone
up to the observation car and Harry Truman
came out on the observation deck and made a
few remarks. And then I handed the microphone
to the engineer who was going to get in the
car and drive home and I ran around and I
boarded the Truman campaign train to ride
back with the national press and just cover
whatever happened, you know. Well, as I was
getting on the train, Jake Boore recognized
me and met me. Jake Boore was the Democratic
state chairman at that time. And he said,
"Would you like to meet the president?" He
recognized that KRNT was a local, powerful
station. And I said, "Boy, would I like to
meet the president." So he said, come with
me. So I went back to Harry Truman's personal
car and the only other guy there was Carroll
Sweitzer who was running for governor on the
Democratic ticket and some big overweight guy
who I never did find out who he was. So I'm
sitting there all alone, in effect, with
Harry Truman. Well, understand this is 1948.
I'm just a kid. I didn't know anything about
politics or Harry Truman particularly. I was
just a dumb...it wasn't just as if I was
George Mills. I didn't know anything about
anything really. So here I am sitting with
the President of the United States (laughs)
and of course it is in late summer, early
fall. And so I, we said hello and all that
kind of thing and in desperation, I just
said, "Well, the corn sure looks good,
doesn't it?" (laughs) He said, oh yes. And I
said, "You know Henry Wallace had a lot to do
with that..." because Henry Wallace is the
guy who developed hybrid seed corn and Henry
Wallace had been a competitor. He was seeking
the presidential nomination too, you know. So
Harry Truman kind of laughed and said, "Well,
Henry Wallace should have stayed with
something he knew something about. He knew
something about corn, but he didn't know much
about being president." So we chatted and
chatted and I'm there for thirty minutes with
the president. So I come out of there finally
and, when all the guys in the national press
realize that I was a local guy, they jumped
over me and wanted to know what Harry Truman
had said and everything. So I told them about
what Harry Truman had said about Harry
Wallace. And that made the national wires. So
I'm an overnight hero. I didn't even know
what I was doing. I didn't even know what to
talk to Harry Truman about. But I lucked out.
Q: Did a story come out of it?
A: Oh yes, it made the national wires, Harry
Truman's remarks about Henry Wallace. And
then the national press asked me if I thought
that Harry Truman had a chance to carry Iowa.
And I said, "Sure." (laughs) I didn't know.
But he did. That was especially interesting
because the very next day Tom Dewey came to
town. And Tom Dewey had no feel at all for
the press or anything else. And they put him
in the Hotel Fort Des Moines and they
wouldn't let anybody get to him. And I was
there. We tried, but his spokesman came out
and said, "We know that Tom Dewey has Iowa
sewed up, so Mr. Dewey is going to relax
while he's here in Iowa and is not really
going to do a whole lot." And that evening he
went out to, Tom Dewey that is, went out to
the Drake Field House and made a speech. And
I remember one of the lines from the speech
was a real profound remark, "Our future is
before us." (laughs) And so the contrast
between Harry Truman, his charisma and his
casual way with the press and everything, was
such a contrast to the rigid nature of Tom
Dewey. --
Section 4:
Q: And back to the kind of the inner workings
of the Register. Were you able to participate
in any civic groups, or have membership and
organizations? Maybe you could talk about
that and what the policy was for the Register
and the Tribune.
A: Yes, we were discouraged from belonging to
anything. A lot of guys used to joke, say,
"Hey, I don't even belong to church." The
idea being that if you belonged to an
organization, you couldn't be objective about
your reporting. And so, no, I was not a
joiner.
Q: What did you think of that idea?
A: Well, I think it's exaggerated a little
bit. I think the occasions on which anybody
might try to influence a member of the press
because of his membership or in an
organization or accepting favors is a little
bit overblown. My good friend George Mills,
for example, had an iron clad rule. He
wouldn't even accept a cup of coffee from
anybody, you know. That's OK, you know. I
think that's overdoing it a little bit. I
mean nobody's going to buy me for a cup of
coffee. And nobody's going to buy me because
I'm a member of some organization, I don't
think. But the Register's policy was that
it's better if you don't join. When I
was...after I got out of the advertising
business and I went back into reporting, one
of the first things that came along was Bob
Ray's reelection. And I had been given an
honorary colonelship in the governor's staff,
you know. Normally all those such people
would march in with the governor when he gave
his inaugural speech. And Jim Gannon told me
I couldn't do that. And so, I didn't. But
again, nobody was going to bribe me by just
by giving me an opportunity to march in
someplace. So I guess I'm in favor of it, but
I think maybe it's OK to soften it a little
bit.
Q: Did you notice "sacred cows" at the
Register, stuff that you just couldn't touch?
A: Usually the things that the, were things
that they wanted to, like the whooping crane.
Frank Eyerly was for saving the whooping
crane. The whooping crane was an endangered
species. I think at one point there were only
three or four in the whole country and when
that went up to six, well, we had a story.
And he was like that. And sometimes the local
political situations would get to the point,
a little bit one-sided, let's say. But, by
and large, I would have to say that there
were no really "sacred cows."
Q: One-sided toward what?
A: Well, there was one period for example
when the Connolly-McGowen era when the city
government was, we thought, shot through with
corruption and this kind of thing. And I
think the paper kind of went overboard and
maybe hurt some people by the manner in which
we reported that whole thing. I don't think
those guys were as guilty of the shenanigans
as the paper would make you think.
Q: What year was this? Or era?
A: You had to ask, didn't you? (laughs) It
would have been the 50s.
Q: And what did the paper do, do you think,
that made them look they went overboard?
A: Just, we would snipe at them for the least
little thing. Again, I can't remember any
specific examples. But comparable to, you
know...if we catch them doing anything, a
policeman would make a mistake and we would
just all over the council. Somebody spit on
the sidewalk, you know, something like that.
Always just picking away at them. As I said,
I don't think Bob Connolly and those guys
really did anything that bad. They were aided
and abetted by some guys on radio. Russ
Levine, for example, who was on radio at the
time and he was attacking the Register daily.
He'd attack the Register and the Register
would attack him for attacking us. You know,
it got to be almost childish.
Q: Attacking the Register for the coverage of
the scandal?
A: Yes.
Q: Russ Levine was attacking the Register for
the coverage of the scandal?
A: Yes, Russ Levine would attack the Register
and then we'd attack back. And I think a lot
of that was due to Frank Eyerly himself, as
managing editor. Of course, he was in a very
strong position and Frank was known to have a
few prejudices of his own. But that's really
about the only example of personal journalism
that I can remember. --
Section 5:
Q: How was Frank Eyerly to work with? You
have brought him up a number of times.
A: I never had any problem with him, because
he generally would not discuss things with a
reporter. When he would get on his charger,
he would usually go after on an editor. The
city editor was the guy who really took from
Frank Eyerly. He was merciless. He drove some
good people away from the Register. He drove
away Knox Craig, who was a city editor, he
drove away Chuck Reynolds, who went to New
Jersey and eventually, would up as publisher
of that paper out there. What is it? Atlantic
City, I can't name the paper. And Eyerly made
a nervous wreck out of Ray Wright, who was a
news editor. He just, as I say, he was
merciless.
Q: In what way, what made him merciless?
A: Just his personal manner. There's a big
joke about, don't drive up the driveway. And
the background of that is that, at one point
the Register hired a guy by the name of the
Nick Lamberto (?) who grew up in Italy and
was probably the most cultured individual
that ever worked for the Register. He spoke
at least two languages and knew all about
opera and literature and everything. He was a
true intellectual. And Nick Lamberto and his
wife were invited to the Eyerly home one
night. They didn't have a car at that time,
so they called a cab. And the cab driver
would not drive up the driveway to Eyerly's
home. Everybody thought that was very
strange. Well, the reason was that this cab
driver would not drive up the driveway was
this--every night when first edition came
out, Eyerly demanded that two copies of the
first edition be sent to him by cab. Mrs.
Eyerly had a rock garden that ran along side
the driveway to their house. So the cab
driver, one time, went up there and in
backing out, he knocked over one of the
rocks. So Eyerly laid down a rule that he had
to have a first edition delivered by cab
every morning, but the driver was not to
drive up the driveway because he might knock
over a rock. So on the cab slip that the city
editor personally filled out every night for
Eyerly to get a first edition, said, "Do not
drive up the driveway." That's the kind of
thing that Eyerly was famous for. He'd sit
home, wait until the cab delivered the first
edition. Then he would call the city editor
and just raise Cain about something. There
was always something that he, you know, a
wrong headline, a misleading headline or bad
lead. He would find something and the city
editors just dreaded that phone call which
was sure to come. After Eyerly had delivered
a cab that wouldn't drive up the driveway,
you know. (laughs)
Q: Was this token criticism or was it was it
justified, I mean, did he have a point when
he called?
A: Most of the time it seemed to be
pointless. But Eyerly, many times he would do
it when he had guests in his home. And people
were suspicious that he was really just
showing off, you know, that he would, he made
life miserable for those guys. And if that
sounds disrespectful, I'm sorry, but that's
the way it is and you can ask anybody.
(laughs) --
Section 6:
Q: You mentioned the pay, too. Maybe you
could talk a little bit about the pay when
you first started and then as you went along,
how was it for you? Was the Register paying
you fairly?
A: Yes, I think so. When I first started
there, I don't remember the pay was all that
much. I don't remember what it was. I think
it was just a few bucks less than a hundred
bucks a week.
Q: As a reporter.
A: As a reporter. And then as time went one,
it got better. And when I went back in 1978,
I don't know how my pay stacked up against
others, I was making more than $40,000 a
year. But I don't know how much. I tell you,
I was so glad to get back on the paper, that
I didn't, the pay really became kind of
immaterial to me.
Q: How about your hours when you first
started in '48 and '49. Were you working a
lot of overtime?
A: Occasionally, but not often. My beat when
I started out, I worked the basic hours from
two in the afternoon to eleven at night. That
changed that a little bit...I covered the
courthouse for three consecutive years. I
changed those hours. I'd usually go in around
12:30 or one (PM) and get through by ten. But
I didn't do an awful lot of hours. The nice
thing about working for the Register as
compared with many papers that are unionized,
is the fact that a newspaper reporter at the
Register could do as little or as much as he
wanted to. And you could drift along and not
do much and nobody would say a whole lot to
you, as long as you were doing the routine
stuff and getting the stuff off the beats and
everything. But if you wanted to spend an
afternoon doing something on your own, you
could do that. Now that is unlike a paper
like say the San Francisco Chronicle. I know
a kid who works out there, my daughter's
husband. That's a union paper, and he works
in the newsroom. He answers phones. Now he
could stumble across the greatest story in
the world, but he couldn't write it for the
San Francisco Chronicle because he's the
telephone answerer. He's not a reporter.
That's not, never was true at the Register.
If you wanted to do stuff on your own, you
could. When Herb Kelly was news editor, he
came to me one day, he said, "Walt, you just
don't seem to be producing much." Well, I was
kind of shocked because I didn't know I was
supposed to be more than I was doing. So I
sat down and made a list of, if I remember,
thirteen stories that I did in addition to
covering my beat. I just went out and did
them. Out of the thirteen, nine of them got
on page one. And that's kind of thing that
you could do as a reporter for the Register.
That's the kind of the thing they encouraged.
I don't know what the point is except to say
that when you work for a paper like the
Register, you are rewarded for, you know,
going that extra step.
Q: What do you think of the paper today as
compared to what it was when you working
there as compared to the old ownership?
A: I don't want to be unkind, but I'm going
to. The paper isn't anything like it was.
They have inexperienced people. There have
been many instances where guys almost
literally get out of journalism school, go
down to the Register, and a week later, they
are running the city desk. That "background"
I talked about earlier is missing and doesn't
seem, not much value seems to be placed on
it. Things don't get developed. Things don't
get edited. There was a story in the paper
this morning about a young woman who had, an
athlete, who'd had surgery on her shoulder. I
read the story three times and couldn't find
out what kind of surgery the person had. You
know, that's the kind of editing that doesn't
get reported. Nobody seems to ask any
questions of the reporters so that they, they
don't fill out, they don't answer the
questions that would surely come up. There
was one, there was a sports stories yesterday
in the paper about the Cubs have signed a new
pitcher, a Japanese kid. They talked about
the fact that last year, this pitcher didn't
have a good year. But nowhere in the story
did it say what his record was. It's that
kind of thing that's missing, you see. You
don't have the curious editor that's coming
around asking the reporter to clarify this or
to add that.
Q: Why is that do you think, I mean, people
really haven't changed that much in fifty
years (laughs) I mean they still have the
same kind of ambition I would think?
A: I can't explain it. I can't explain it. I
blame the journalism schools for not
producing the kinds of editors that require
reporters to do those things. I just think it
is a shame. It shows up all the time. In
fact, my good friend Gene Raffensperger and I
get on the telephone almost every week and
have something to say about that. I think it
is a shame. Of course, I think, I don't think
there was any reason for the Tribune to fold.
That was a decision that was based obviously
on economics. But that decision was made and
they folded the Tribune. I think the Tribune
could be kept alive and I think that's been
proved by Connie Wymer who runs that little
business paper here in Des Moines where she
is at least making an effort to fill in some
of the gaps. And I think that could still be
done. And, of course, I was just absolutely
devastated when the Register elected to pull
in its horns and not try to serve the whole
state because again, while that was an
economic decision, essentially, to me, there
were other majors that could have been taken
to preserve the unique status of the Register
as a statewide paper.
Q: Why is it important that the Register be a
statewide paper when you have the Cedar
Rapids Gazette or the Burlington newspaper?
A: Hey, when the Cedar Rapids Gazette was
going against the Register, the Register, we
used to go in and pull stories out from
underneath the Cedar Rapids Gazette every
week. And of course Gene Raffensperger was
based over in Davenport [IA] and he was
pulling, scooping out from under the
Davenport, the Quad Cities papers, all the
time. So, that has been lost. And with the
technology that exists today where papers can
be printed...you know, they do USA Today is
able to fill a need. The Register could have
done that, in my view. Of course I'm not an
expert on the economics of newspapers and I
suspect a lot of people would disagree with
me, but I just think it's a pity that the
Register has been allowed to deteriorate to
that extent?
Q: What do you think we are missing? What do
you think has suffered because of that? The
closing of the Bureau's and such?
A: Well, the thing that suffered is
timeliness, completeness. There's just,
initiative. I think all those things have
suffered. But they do...I have kind of a
corny way of judging the value of news story.
And that is, how many people are going to
clip it and put it in their scrapbook? And
when the Register was going great guns back
in the 50s, you can bet that people all over
the state were clipping stories out of the
Register for their scrapbook. And here, Date
Book came the other day, and the picture on
the cover was an Easter egg. And who's going
to cut out a picture of an Easter egg? One
Thanksgiving recently they ran a picture of a
turkey. Well, a journalist would say, hey if
you are going to run a picture of a turkey,
get three little kids with the turkey.
Tape One, Side Two
A: As I said, if news stories were judged on
the basis of the number of people that they
would interest, I think that would be a step
forward. You see, I have this theory that,
among the things that the Register doesn't
cover anymore, it used to be that the city
editor everyday would have a few little
clippings in his folder and he would hand it
to some reporter and he'd be going, "These
were all the conventions that were being held
today in Des Moines." So the reporter would
have to go around to these conventions until
he found something convention that you could
write something about. I remember Jack
Magaral, former reporter, wrote a story one
time about, they were having a convention of
people who collect pigeons. He got a great
little story out of that, you know. Now they
would never go to that convention.
Among the things we don't cover, we don't
cover the country clubs. Yet the country
clubs are the center of social activity for a
large part of Des Moines. And it's not just a
matter of covering the social event, but when
you cover a social event of everybody that
attends the country club, for example, you
get to know the people who are functioning
out in the economies. We don't cover on a
regular basis, the suburbs. You know-Windsor
Heights, Clive, all these other communities
that have regularly scheduled council
meetings and this kind of thing, you know.
Now it's not the council meeting that is so
important, but it's going to the counsel
meeting and finding out that way what else is
going on in that community, you see. And the
Register doesn't do that kind of thing. The
Register, Bob Ray's daughter got married. The
church was standing room only. There wasn't a
line in the paper about it. This is the
governor's daughter, you know. We don't cover
weddings. We run a little listing, but we
don't cover weddings and talk about who
caught the bouquet and what the bride wore
and what the bridesmaids wore and all that
kind of thing. I'm not saying we should cover
every wedding, but we should cover them once
in a while. We don't cover funerals and yet
if we covered funerals and if we quoted from
the eulogy occasionally, not everyone, but
you judge those on the same basis as you
judge any news story. You know, what is the
interest level? And don't tell me that a lot
of people wouldn't be clipping out those
funeral stories and saving them for
posterity. These are just some of the
examples of things that the Register used to
do but they don't do it anymore.
And then they wonder why interest in
subscriptions is declining. It's declining
because we aren't writing. The Register in
fact, I think local print journalism
generally is not writing the kind of stories
that people want to read. You have to
remember that journalism had a basis in
little old ladies who run around in small
towns and reported what the ladies society
was doing. Everybody in town knew what the
society was doing. But that's not the point.
They want to read about it in the paper, you
know. The highest readership among people who
go to sports events is among people who were
at the sports events, you see. And this is
something that gets overlooked. I just think
that somebody needs to take a step backward
to daily print journalism, daily local print
journalism. And take a look at what it ought
to be doing. --
Section 7:
Q: You talked about sources there are going
to the city council meetings and the meetings
and such and getting ideas and such. And you
also talked earlier about the tips that you
got, the story ideas that you got from other
reporters. Could you expand more on the tips
that you got and how you used sources in
getting story ideas, not necessarily just
from other reporters, but from the contacts
you'd made throughout the state.
A: I'm not sure I understand the question.
Q: How did you develop story ideas from some
of the ideas that you had gotten from other
sources and from the contacts you had made
from going to meetings and going to these
functions. Where did you come up with, how
did you get going on those ideas?
A: Well, most of the stories that I'd get
would be, most of the ideas that I'd get were
things that I'd lift right out of the paper;
where I would see something in the paper, I
mentioned for example a building. Well, I
remembered the Equitable Building for
example, got sold. I remembered when my
mother used to take me to the Equitable
Building to have my teeth straightened, you
know. That triggered a thing that I got into
the history of the Equitable Building. I
found a former elevator operator. I found a
former janitor and all this and that. I just
did it. Lots of times, I would get, I would
just think of things. Like for example,
Ronald Reagan. I was around when Ronald
Reagan was around and that triggered a number
of things. I found the guy who helped him
when he fell off his horse. I found a woman
who had been rescued by him when he was a
lifeguard at Camp Dodge. I found his, was it
his tailor or his barber, one or the other
you know. And each one of these was a story.
Q: I guess I made an assumption that some of
the people that you talked to gave you story
ideas. The contacts you made.
A: As I say, I don't really remember any
reporter coming to me. When I worked for the
Tribune briefly between the stint on the
Register and the time the Tribune folded,
Larry Fruhling was writing for the Tribune.
He was doing a column called "Fruhling's
Iowa" and I was the counterpart doing
"Shotwell's City." And so between the two of
us, he was out in the state and I was local.
Reporters were always, every reporter, I wish
I could think of some specific examples.
Maybe if I thumbed through some of my stuff,
I could. Reporters were also grabbing lines
saying, "Hey, did you hear about so-and-so?"
Well, I hadn't, but I'd look into it. And I
always would.
Q: You know we talked about the downside of
what the Register is now. Is there a good
thing? Is there anything good about what's
happening, maybe with new technology and the
fact that they can do things faster?
A: Yes, I like the brevity. some of the thing
they're doing. I think that they are doing a
good job. I think they include the religion
reporting for example. I really, I think they
do a good job with national news by and
large, you know. I think the writing is
generally pretty clear, and sometimes very
good. I think they have a strong sports page,
Mark Hanson, for example, I think is really
good.
Q: Now we are losing "The Big Peach."
A: Well.
Q: There is some history.
A: I don't that it is going to be a great
loss. (laughs) --
Section 8:
Q: I don't know if you feel comfortable
talking about it, but there was a time that
you wrote about your depression and your
anxiety attacks. Do you want to talk about
that?
A: Yes, I don't have any problem with that. I
just "cracked up." And I...
Q: Just the stress level of the Register?
A: I don't know. I think that had something
to do with it. I think that in many times
people who become clinically depressed have a
propensity for it. And I think, they just get
into it...it hits you before you know what is
going on. And at the time that I wrote about
it, I'm a little disappointed. I know at one
time they were considering submitting that
for a Pulitzer and they decided not to, which
kind of hurt me here, but because at that
time, nobody had done it. This was before
Mike Wallace went public with his problems
and certain other celebrities have since done
what I did in the newspaper. And that was
just lay it all out while I became depressed
and how I overcame it. At that time, since it
hadn't been discussed in public before, I
thought I might have had a shot at the
Pulitzer. But it didn't work out that way.
But I was incapacitated for many, many weeks.
Q: This was in the mid-80s, I think, '87?
A: Actually I had two major bouts with it.
One time I was laid up for three months and
the other time it was a matter of several
weeks. The problem with depression is that
nobody can ever say, "I'm depressed because
of this," or somebody did this and that
caused me to have this reaction. It's never
that clear cut. It's kind of mystery.
Fortunately I used some appropriate
medications and I got over it and I'm fine.
Have been for years.
Q: What was the idea behind writing that?
What was your motivation?
A: In the first place, it helped me. It was a
kind of cleansing, I suppose. Secondly,
before I submitted it to the paper for
publication, I ran it past a couple of
friends of mine, Knox, the late Knox Kregan
Francis, and they thought it was exceptional.
So that plus, I can't remember ever having a
motive. I don't know. Maybe I was seeking
glory or something, I don't know. (laughs)
Q: You got a heck of lot of feedback.
A: Yes, I think Phyllis Wolf kind of kept
track of that. In fact she had it made up in
this special package because it triggered so
much response that she needed something to
send out to people. I think we had something
like 800 responses to that story. As I say,
nobody had done it before for publication.
Since I've learned, any number of people on
the paper and otherwise have suffered
depression, so it seems to be kind of an
occupational hazard. But I don't know.
Q: An occupational hazard in so far as what,
was something happening? Something different
from any other workplace?
A: I don't know. I think by nature reporters
take themselves more seriously perhaps than
other people. I think reporters are bothered
by things--conditions, society. And I think
reporters have a need to succeed, a need to
expound, express themselves. Again I can't
explain it. Who was it, H. L. Mencken or
somebody who referred to reporters as "paid
eccentrics." (laughs) Have I got that right?
Q: (laughs) Sounds right.
A: I think any newsroom is full of a bunch of
"paid eccentrics." People, employees who take
themselves very seriously, take their work
very seriously. --
Section 9:
Q: Did you ever come across any ethical
dilemmas when you were coming up with a story
idea or when you were actually out on the
story and trying to decide whether this is
something to talk to about or not or write
about?
A: Gee, I don't know. Reporters always faced
with the ethical standards regarding so-
called "off the record" interviews. And the
way I handled that was that I would not
listen to anybody off the record. If I'm
interviewing somebody, any kind of subject
that is the least bit controversial, and they
say, "Well, off the record so-and-so," I say,
"No, I don't want you to tell me off the
record. Let me ask you everything else that
I'm going to have to ask you and then after
we get through with everything I need, then
if you want to tell me something off the
record, I'll listen to it." Nine times out of
ten, that person will eventually tell me
whatever it is that they didn't want to tell
me. But if I listen to something off the
record, then I'm obligated to not divulge it.
That's I would try to get everything out of
the way first and then if somebody wants to
volunteer something off the record, I'll
listen to it. But then, let's say it is
something really provocative, but I'm obliged
to not use it because it's off the record. So
what I would do then, is I'd do an end run.
I'd go around that person and try to get that
same information some place else without
violating the confidence of the person I was
talking to. That really doesn't happen that
often. When people would tell me something
off the record, that's the way I'd handle it
and it would usually work it's way out. As
far as any ethical considerations, I can't
recall ever being in a bind over that. I've
worked on some tough stuff and as far as
violating any ethics is concerned, I just
can't remember ever having to deal with that.
Q: Over your long career you've seen the
civil rights movement and such, in the '60s
and '70s with both African Americans and
women. Could you talk about minorities, and
the way minorities were covered back in the
'40s as opposed to when you came later in the
'70s?
A: When I was covering the courthouse, I
became acquainted with some people who were
active in the NAACP. And again, on my own, I
decided I would start covering the NAACP
meetings. Nobody was covering NAACP at that
time. They were just like so many of the
suburbs, they were meeting in secret, so to
speak. So I started going to the NAACP
meetings. It was very enlightening. I learned
a lot. I don't think I ever did anything
particularly profound, but I attempted to
present the black position on various issues
around Des Moines and it was difficult to do
because Des Moines doesn't, at least in those
days, and I think even today, does not really
have a black spokesman or spokesperson. The
black community has always been divided.
They've been unable to concentrate their
efforts in any effective way, you know. The
Wrights and Sims and some of the other people
whose names were associated with the black
community in Des Moines, they occasionally
were recorded on this or that you know, but
there has never been any unified leadership
so far as anybody knows in the black
community. Which meant that when the blacks
were attempting to assert themselves in the
South and they were having sit-ins and all
this and that, what happened in Des Moines
was pretty meager, you know. I remember when
they had a freedom march along Keosock Way
one time. It turned out to be just a few
individuals, kind of a scraggly group, who
wandered down. Most of them were kids. The
whole thing was lost.
As far as women are concerned, the women on
the Register have a pretty distinguished
heritage. Florence Swihart, for example,
covered the school board. And at that time
the school board meetings, if you can believe
it, were held in secret. And Florence Swihart
dug in her heels and got the backing of Frank
Eyerly and she, by-God, was not going to let
them meet in secret. And she broke open the
school board meetings. Today, kids with
cameras will take TV shots of these open
meetings and all this and that, but they
never realize it was Florence Swihart that
made all that possible. Lula Mae Coe was the
same way. She was tough. Boy she was tough.
When she went out to do a story, she'd come
back with a story every time. So there were
some fine women reporters and I think some of
them are doing well.
Q: And what made you want to cover those
NAACP meetings way back when?
A: Well, just because nobody was doing it. I
looked at it as an opportunity to do myself
some good by volunteering to cover it and
possibly airing some of the issues that were
prominent at the time. I don't know if I did
any good, but I did it. (laughs) --
Section 10:
Q: And to wrap up Walt, is there anything
that you would have done differently in your
career over the years, the fifty years?
A: Yes, I would have chased fewer rainbows. I
would have been more satisfied to stay where
I was at the Register. If I had, I think my
whole life would have been a lot different.
Leaving to go into television wasn't too bad
because I wasn't gone from the Register long
enough to make that much difference. But from
a personal standpoint, quitting to go into
the advertising business was a real, real
mistake because, I don't know, people who
have a newspapering mentality just don't do
well in advertising as a general rule. You
have to, there's a certain phoniness about
the advertising business that is
unacceptable.
Q: But on the other hand, you mentioned, you
said you had learned a lot about journalism
as in public relations and the things you
were doing with Bob Ray.
A: Yes, that's true, but balancing the two, I
think I would have been better off staying at
the Register. I was, by the time I left the
Register in 1962, I was pretty well
established as a good journeyman reporter. I
was looked upon as a good all around
workman-like reporter. I didn't have a whole
lot to look forward to. I don't know if I
ever would have qualified to go on up into
the editing chain of command. But the nice
thing about being a reporter is that it is as
close as to being in business for yourself as
you can be without actually being in business
for yourself. Because you can do as much or
as little as you want to. And, as I say, once
you are established, you are in total control
of your own future and I like that.
Q: What do you think makes a good columnist?
A: Initiative, imagination, the ability to
develop a story. I was a columnist in the
sense that I think that really that my
columns were more like feature stories. I
would deal with a thing. Occasionally I would
write an item column. Sometimes you just
collect stuff, you know, and I would do just
a series of items like Gordan Gammack used to
do. But by and large, I regarded my columns
more as feature stories than as columns.
Occasionally I would express opinions, but
mostly I would just call on my personal
experiences and experiences of others.
Columnists like Don Kaul, you know, were few
and far between. He's got a knack for being
editorial and amusing at the same time and
that's pretty hard to do. I couldn't do that.
I wrote about situations by and large -- and
people.
Q: And we talked about a number of people at
the Register and the Tribune. Don Kaul and
Don Ultang and Frank Eyerly. George Mills.
Anybody else that really stands out in your
mind that had an influence over you? That
really left their mark?
A: There were many, I mentioned Florence
Swihart and Lula Mae Coe. George Shane, you
know, was an artist, a working artist and a
writer, a good one. He was the guy that wrote
the lead story the day that the guy by the
name of Sodequist commandeered an airplane
and buzzed Des Moines for hours. Shane wrote
a story and the lead had something to do with
"Death Rode the Wingtip." And Shane, Shane's
suicide. And, of course, Bob Hollohan whose
bio reads "the greatest writer," one of the
greatest writers who ever went through the
paper. He was a funny guy. (laughs) He told a
story about, he was out doing a story one
time and as he approached his news source, he
explained to the news source who he was. He
said, "I'm Bob Hollohan and I'm doing a story
and I'm the guy who wrote such-and-such the
story." And the news source says, "Oh yes, I
read part of that. Hollohan suicided and took
his wife and daughter with him." But he was
great. And of course my friend Gene
Raffensperger, the son of Lynn Raffensperger
who used to be the Iowa football couch. And
if you haven't talked to him yet, you ought
to.
Q: He's on our list.
A: He's a dear friend and excellent reporter.
A good writer, good writer. So I think of
him. Don Ultang. He and I went out to cover
that story when the two Boy Scouts were
missing out in the Arizona desert. That was
an exciting story to work on. There are so
many. Of course George Mills, you can't even
talk about the Register without mentioning
him. And Cy Clifton who was George Mills'
counterpart. And Cy covered the senate and
Mills covered the Iowa house.
Q: This was C.C. Clifton?
A: C.C. Clifton, yes. Those guys used to get
mad at each other. In fact, they had a little
cubbyhole up in the library when they worked
in the state house where they typed their
stories on an old-fashioned machines. And Cy
was real gruff, you know, he never thought
anything was a story. And of course "Lefty"
was the opposite. He thought everything was a
story. They came to blows one day. They got
mad at each other and stood up and they
squared off and I'm sitting there
open-mouthed, you know.
Q: This was in the newsroom?
A: No, this was up in the library of the
state house. (laughs) That's what I mean.
Reporters take things very seriously and I
think...and Ultang was one of them. Of
course, George Yates was the dean of the
photographers. He was the stately gentleman,
you know. Well, there are just so many, so
many people. Every one of them has a memory
connected with it.
Q: All right. Those are my questions, Walt.
A: OK.
