The aftereffects

The iconic, original WTVR TV station ID slide that celebrated the station's pioneer status continued in use for several years after I left. It had passionate adherents and equally fervent detractors. Personally, I liked it, although I think it should have been updated to reflect a more modern design sensibility.

My friend Walter, in a comment on my last post about being fired as news director at WTVR TV, asked what effect the event had on me and whether my interpretation of it had changed over the years.

Being fired had a devastating effect on me. It meant I had to change careers, and change is always difficult. In this case, change worked out for the best, as have, come to think of it, most major changes in my life. In retrospect, being fired was one of the best things that ever happened to me.

It didn't take long, however, for my interpretation of the event to evolve. At first, I took what happened at face value. I screwed up. The buck stopped with me. That was it.

And I still don't know that this was not a totally correct interpretation.

But there were two other factors that might have come into play, and I don't know for certain whether they did. Senator Byrd and the then-owner of WTVR, Roy H. Park, were professional cronies. I don't know -- and probably will never know -- whether there was a phone call from Byrd to Park in which Byrd expressed his anger (he was, in fact, very angry, or so I was told by his press secretary) and a desire to see me pay for the mistake I made.

Also unknown to me is the role, if any, that my sexual orientation played. As I recounted earlier, I had come out years earlier to the station's manager before accepting the job as news director. He was comfortable with having a gay man in charge of the news department, but his comfort was not shared by the entirety of the staff. The station's program director, John Shand, was known for mercilessly harassing members of the staff he suspected were gay. He never once aimed any barbs in my direction, but there were other staff members whom he publicly humiliated -- frequently. There was one member of my own staff in the newsroom who openly expressed his distaste for working for a gay man. I suggested that he might be more comfortable elsewhere, but he decided that he'd rather keep his job and thenceforth kept his mouth shut.

In the early 1970s, coming out was a much bigger deal than it is today. As far as I know, I was the first broadcast journalist in the city to come out at work. It generated a lot of talk, some behind my back, although there were a number of open, friendly, questions aimed my way, which were followed by what I saw as healthy discussions. I never felt that my sexual orientation put my job in jeopardy.

Did either of these factors play into management's decision to fire me? I don't know. I do know, speaking as a journalist, that there was ample reason to fire me. I accepted that then, and I have no reason today to think I lost my job for any hidden reason. Unless I somehow learn otherwise -- and I doubt that I will, given the number of years that have passed -- I take what happened at face value.

Perhaps that's a sign of naiveté. If it be such, I am happier than I would be did I subscribe to a theory involving a darker scenario.