I must have checked the wire-service teletypes 100 times a day when I was news director at WTVR TV. The sound of them clacking away, combined with the noise of police scanners for Richmond, Henrico and Chesterfield and radio traffic to and from our own news cars, created a cacophony in the newsroom.
I was lucky to achieve a lifetime career dream when I was 32. Of course, my life hadn't been all that long, but the dream came true nonetheless.
In 1974, WTVR news director Bob Trent resigned, and the station manager, Jack Mahoney, picked me as Bob's replacement.
I've said before that Bob was the best news director I ever worked for. He taught me so much about the nitty-gritty of TV journalism -- the things they don't teach you in school -- and that meant I'd be filling some very big shoes.
Station manager Jack Mahoney was, like Bob, the best I ever worked for, and I don't say that just because he promoted me. (That will become clearer in blog posts to come.) He was a big, florid Irishman, easy to like, thoughtful with his employees, and very upfront about his battles in the past with alcoholism. He'd been clean and sober for some years, though, and he and his wife, Mary, weren't above throwing a beer bash to celebrate a significant win in the ratings or a retirement or a promotion. He'd join in the fun, but he'd spend the evening nursing a Coke or a glass of tonic water.
Jack called me into his corner office to tell me about my promotion. We talked about the direction of the newscast, what he wanted to see improved, and what he thought was working well. We talked about anchormen -- there were no women in anchor jobs in Richmond at that time -- and the need to diversify, to hire women and minorities for reporting and photography jobs. We discussed how to keep the budget in line -- the cost of raw film stock and the chemicals needed to process film was soaring -- and the strengths and weaknesses of our existing news staff.
I had been open about my sexuality since I returned from the Air Force, but the subject had never come up between Jack and me. So as the interview drew to a close and he offered me the job, I told him there was something he needed to know: "Jack, I'm gay."
"That's not a problem, Don. I'm an alcoholic."
To this day, I still don't understand the parallel.
But I gratefully accepted the job that I had dreamt about since I was old enough to read a newspaper.
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Knowing what exactly Jack meant depends largely on knowing what he thought of his alcoholism. If he thought of it as a disease -- not as likely then as it is now -- he may have thought of homosexuality as a disease too, hence the comment. Not a pleasant take, but certainly in keeping with the times. If, on the other hand, he was thinking that his issue didn't hold him back and yours likewise wouldn't hinder you, that's a better memory. I'm going to go with the idea that, in reaction to you sharing an intimate part of your life, he simply responded in kind. You of course already knew that about him, but then, he likely knew about you too.
ReplyDeleteI'd like to believe that Jack understood discrimination from his "drinking days", which no doubt exposed him to thoughtless name calling and discrimination. He therefore realized that ANY discrimination was just plain wrong. Hence, he related on that plane of thinking. Besides, you had talent (on loan from God?).
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