Death is not a surprise when someone is 92 years old, and particularly in these uncertain times. That does not, however, lessen the sadness when it happens to an old friend and colleague.
When I returned to Birmingham after college to attend law school at Samford, I first went job-hunting. I had worked my way through college as a newspaper reporter and thought there might be something at the Post-Herald, which was the morning paper and, therefore, meant working at night. That would enable me better to balance time.
Bill Lumpkin was sports editor of the Post-Herald. I had grown up reading his stories and columns, just as I had those of Bob Phillips (“Mr. Phillips” to everyone), and also Benny Marshall and Alf Van Hoose at the Birmingham News. Certainly I was a sports fan, but I had no idea that I would end up with a job in sports, aka the toy department of a newspaper.
Having worked at a small newspaper, I had learned to do a lot of things – writing, editing, page layout, photo cropping, etc. Those were skills that were needed in Post-Herald sports.
At the time, the Post-Herald was the state’s second largest newspaper. It has been gone for a long time now. So have many of those I worked with there. Most recently, a month ago, we lost Bill Lumpkin. As has been common in COVID-19 times, the memorial service was postponed until today.
We hear a lot about funeral services being a “celebration of life,” and some are. I have no doubt that Bill’s service will be.
Bill was a big man with a big personality, a great sense of humor, and, most important, he was a fine journalist. He was an Alabama graduate, but had many friends at Auburn and played fair.
There were no Alabama or Auburn beat writers as such in those days. And like most newspapers in the state that attempted to cover both of the major schools in football, the sports editor would cover the team playing the biggest game and someone else the other. That someone else to Bill was Mr. Phillips. But in 1968 Mr. Phillips had some health issues and was given doctor’s orders to forego the arduous work of covering football games.
I was 23 years old and Bill selected me to take on that task. At 24 he named me assistant sports editor of the state’s second largest newspaper.
The Post-Herald was a Monday through Saturday paper and so wouldn’t have stories on Alabama and Auburn football games until Monday mornings, an obvious disadvantage against the Sunday papers. Fortunately, both Paul Bryant at Alabama and Ralph Jordan at Auburn were aware of out situation and following their post-game press conferences would give the Post-Herald some private time.
One thing that experience gave me was a relationship with Charley Thornton, who was Alabama’s sports information director. And when he had an opening for an assistant, he called me.
It was very, very difficult for me to tell Bill that I was leaving him to go to Alabama. After all, he had made it possible. But that big man couldn’t have been more gracious, offering me congratulations and best wishes.
He also told me that he didn’t expect special treatment when I got to Alabama, that I would have to do the job for everyone. In other words, Play Fair.
I stayed friends with Bill and other staffers at the Post-Herald, but per his entreaty I also developed friendships with journalists throughout the state and nation. I was named sports information director in early 1973. (What were they thinking? I was 28 years old and Alabama and Paul Bryant were as big as it gets!) The first call of congratulations came from Bill, who then proceeded to interview me.
From time-to-time I’d have some tidbit of information, not really worthy of a story. I kept a running list of those in anticipation of a Lumpkin call for help. “I need a column,” he would say. “Got anything?” And I’d give him whatever I had on the list.
When the Alabama-Auburn game was played in Birmingham, beginning in the morning of the game Bill and his wife, Peggy, would open their home to sports journalists from throughout the state. He lived not far from Legion Field and writers and broadcasters would feast on shrimp and oysters and sandwiches and beers and Bloody Marys before heading for work.
My last long conversation with Bill wasn’t really a conversation. It was me listening. Bill and Peggy had suffered the unthinkable, the loss of their daughter, Kathy. I had known Kathy since before she went to Alabama and on into journalism, a fine sportswriter in her own right in a business still mostly men.
Bill was distraught as he recounted the unexpected death of Kathy, and I listened, hoping that was good enough.
I’m afraid to guess how many years it has been since Bill told me he was moving to Dallas.
Dallas! What in the world for?
Only then did I learn that he wasn’t going to Texas, but rather to what must be a booming suburb of Atlanta.
Now, however, he is back, close to his longtime home in Elmwood Cemetery in Birmingham. I’ll celebrate his life, but not without sadness. Professionally, he was life-changing for me. More than that, though, he was a friend.
"colleague" - Google News
June 05, 2021 at 05:54PM
https://ift.tt/3gglqWI
Celebrating Life Of Longtime Colleague And Friend - 247Sports
"colleague" - Google News
https://ift.tt/2Uvr5Ps
https://ift.tt/2YviVIP
No comments:
Post a Comment