Newspapers lose another character
Long-time local editor dies
Sadly, many of today’s newspaper owners might just as well be running a shoe factory for all they care about what goes out the doors. It’s just about the finances, the best return on investment. But once upon a time newspapers were the best places in the world to work, low salaries and long hours aside. It was a profession where you got satisfaction from stringing words together so they sang, of weeding out and exposing evil and doing it all on deadline and under the watchful eye of a brusque editor.
Bob Harper, who died this past weekend, was just such an editor. He joined The Frederick News-Post in 1955 after graduating from a local high school, and moved through the usual news beats until landing in the city editor spot and lastly as assistant managing editor before retiring several years ago.
[Bob and Eleanor, pictured right, photo by Nancy Luse]
Harper loved the news business and was as excited as anyone when the paper had a big scoop. But his joy could just as easily turn to wrath by lazy reporting and ridiculous excuses like the guy who once said he couldn’t cover something because he didn’t have gas in his car, or the woman who said she couldn’t take an assignment because she was baking a cake.
Even when everything went online, Harper still clung to his spiral-bound daybook that listed all the town meetings, when a big trial was expected to begin, hearings on zoning issues and most importantly, when people were taking vacation. His desk, heaped with press releases and dangerously leaning piles of yellowed newspapers, was a sight to behold. He could get his hands on whatever he was looking for and seemed to know if anyone dared to take something from the pile. There was just a small square of open desk space where he scrawled assignments on the backs of used envelopes.
An envelope from Harper was often a dreaded thing. It could be a half-baked story idea from a reader who rang Harper’s phone or it could be a note saying you had to work a double shift because someone had called in sick. Rarely, if ever, was it a note telling you he liked a story you did. He didn’t believe in lavish praise, but you could tell by his chortle when he was pleased with your work.
His first wife, Eleanor, was the social editor when they first got together. She loved parties and would often start the crowd dancing. Harper was proud of their home, spending countless hours in the garden. He also enjoyed waiting until Eleanor fell asleep and then would sneak out of the house to join the night side crew for beers at Old Towne Tavern. He was also first in line when anyone mentioned a poker game.
Bob was a character, back in the days when newsrooms welcomed and celebrated their characters. He was at times the substitute dad, the guy who took you to lunch or slipped you a couple of bucks knowing your kids needed something. He was also the kind of boss who, after retiring from the job, went to the funeral of one of his reporters, even when the current management couldn’t seem to be bothered to make the gesture.
Bob Harper spent his entire career at the News-Post and has left his share of stories that will continue to be told whenever reporters and editors gather and lament the days when newspapers were really something.
