Remembering the man who created my career.

On the last days of my sophomore year at Missouri, the job situation was bleak. As a freshman, I had defied expectations and landed a fantastic yet grueling internship at the Birmingham Post-Herald. Unfortunately, this left me cocky in my internship hunt for the next summer. I only applied at larger daily newspapers, none of which seemed to be biting. Time was running out.

So I called New Directions for News, a think tank based at the Missouri School of Journalism. The man who answered was Rich Somerville, who invited me to come by "and see if we like each other." Instead of talking about my anemic resume or my qualifications to be a research assistant, we simply chatted about where journalism was headed. I was struck that such a veteran of the industry was treating a long-haired 19-year-old as a peer and truly listening to what I had to say.

It was the first of countless conversations I had with Rich, who hired me on the spot and soon became not only my summer employer but also my professional mentor and close friend. We would work together at four very different places over the next decade, and each time, Rich would be a constant source of inspiration and guidance.

Rich died of a heart attack a week ago at his home in Eureka, Calif. He was only 61.

I've always had a hard time explaining Rich's role in my life, because it surely must have been a rare relationship. In college, I lacked the initiative or obsequiousness to cultivate a professor as a mentor. In fact, I doubt more than one or two professors would even remember me by name. But Rich was always up for getting a cup of coffee and talking about the industry's future, along with more practical issues like my quest for employment.

Senior year, I was managing editor of The Maneater student paper when we decided to depose our longtime faculty adviser. I convinced Rich to step in, and he quickly proved a perfect example of what an adviser for the independent newspaper could be -- hands-off, but motivational and accessible.

Finishing his doctoral work (but, sadly, never his dissertation), Rich moved on after that year. So did I, becoming a reporter at The Journal Gazette in Fort Wayne, Ind. Three years later, as I was considering my next career move, Rich persuaded me to move all the way to Northern California and become city editor at The Union newspaper, where he was editor.

What followed were several rewarding, often-challenging years of working with Rich to grow readership at an established community paper. While innovative and passionate, Rich would be the first to admit he had his weak spots. His emotional connection to the work was known to spark a few outbursts and create friction with some longtime staffers. But those of us who stuck with Rich learned a great deal about where journalism was headed -- and what obstacles might keep the newspaper industry from getting there.

After a few more years, Rich left the paper. He was frustrated with the industry but also hopeful, so he started a newspaper consulting firm called Media Foresight Associates. For a while, Rich was the sole employee and had good success with his first round of clients. In fact, the consulting proved so fruitful, he hired me to join the firm in late 2005. I had moved back to Alabama and was trying to decide on my next career move.

Consulting alongside Rich was enjoyable and rewarding, mainly because his stress level was so much lower than during his years in newspapers. But before I could work with him for very long, I was hired to my current job as a copywriter. (I feared calling Rich to tell him I was going into advertising. His response, one of my favorite Rich moments, was: "At least it's not PR.")

Soon after, Rich was convinced by media mogul Dean Singleton to take the helm of the Times-Standard newspaper in Eureka, Calif. A bit hesitant to give up the relative ease of his consulting gig, Rich was finally won over by his own competitive spirit and love for community journalism. He had simply missed it too much to say no.

We kept up, of course, exchanging e-mails and having occasional phone conversations about his progress. A few weeks ago, we even talked by e-mail about his hopes of hiring a photographer friend of mine. So it was obviously a sudden blow to find out about his death on Monday of last week. It's painful on levels that I think will only be shown over time, as I find myself wishing I could call him to ask for advice or gossip about media infighting.

Working with Rich's brother, I'm excited to say that we've created The Richard Somerville Memorial Scholarship at the Missouri School of Journalism. We've set a daunting goal -- a $25,000 minimum is required to make it an endowed scholarship -- but even that ambitious of a task is less than I owe Rich for his time, his support and his friendship. The world is a poorer place without Rich in it, and although he boosted my confidence and skills to new levels, his death still leaves me with a void that no one else could ever fill.

A wee bit of inside baseball, but still...

I'm not one to throw stones or hold grudges, but there are a few people who have rubbed me the wrong way in my professional life. And it's an incredibly short list.

The recurring theme with the folks I just cannot like is that they are willing to do almost anything to make themselves look good or to help themselves succeed. And there's just something uniquely frustrating about watching this person prosper while you tell yourself: "In the end, there's nothing more important than your ethics. It's worth being less successful if it means being a better human being."

Why do I bring this up? Well, in my old newspaper chain, there was this one editor who seemed to be an ever-brightening star within the industry. I felt like I was the only one seeing (or at least caring about) his reprehensible ethics.

Well, you can't outrun that forever.

I might be lying to you right now.

Thanks to the power of Google Alerts, which lets me know when a new Web site or blog post mentions my name, I stumbled across this recent newspaper column mention by my longtime mentor Rich Somerville:

Another regularly visited site is that of a friend, Griner*, who is in his late 20s and has an eclectic (some might say warped) creative side that is manifested through his blog as well as his job as an advertising copywriter.

It's flattering to be mentioned in Rich's column, even if said column does end with the line, "And next time you're reading a blog and think you're getting the gospel truth -- think again."

I assure you, there are quite a few points between A and B. Be sure to check it out. It's an interesting read and a nice insight into the the daily struggles of being a modern newspaper editor.



(*He actually used my full name, but I try to keep references to that at a minimum on this blog. Not for any real reason, though. I know better than to write things on here I would seriously regret.)

Pilotless airplane, pilotless airplane, pilotless airplane, pilotless airplane.

The San Francisco Chronicle has begun podcasting angry reader phone calls through a feature called "Correct me if I'm wrong."

In case you wonder what each of my 35 daily voicemails sounded like when I was an editor, be sure to check it out.

(Even if you don't wonder, be sure to listen to it. It's what the kids call "a hoot.") Thanks to Greg for pointing it out.

What, was the guy from "Inside The Actors Studio" busy that night?

Some of you might remember the low point in American journalism that was last year's White House Correspondents Association dinner.

It was a low point not because of what happened there — which was an incredible and biting monologue from Stephen Colbert — but because of the swooning, "Well I do DE-CLA-RUH!" response that many journalists had to the earnest ribbing of the president, who happened to be seated within IED blast radius of Colbert.

Well, just to show America that journalists haven't descended into complete irrelevance, the Correspondents Association this year has turned to one of today's most potent voices of cutting-edge satire: Rich Little.

Oh yeah, that Rich Little.

Listen, I love journalism. I hope you all know that. Setting aside my penchant for sarcasm, I truly do think it's a noble profession that asks much more of its professionals than it offers in return.

But I also think the industry is guided by people are just too damn scared. Scared of offending readers. Scared of offending public officials. Scared of partisan bloggers who are constantly looking for reasons to demonize the mainstream media.

Hey, I've been there. It's a tough balance. But being scared of offending the president? Give me a break. On a daily basis, the man is called a liar, a mass murderer, a racist, a zealot and a baffling ignoramus. I think he can handle lines like this from Colbert:

I stand by this man. I stand by this man because he stands for things. Not only for things, he stands on things. Things like aircraft carriers and rubble and recently flooded city squares. And that sends a strong message, that no matter what happens to America, she will always rebound -- with the most powerfully staged photo ops in the world.

And Bush did handle it. The Correspondents Association president says his group got no negative feedback from the White House last year.

But journalists (and even my new peers in advertising) just haven't come around to the idea that it's a good thing when people are out debating these things loudly and passionately.

Here's a classic explanation from a fellow who I'm sure will lead the laugh track when Rich Little does his Milton Berle impersonation:

(Former Correspondents Association President Ron) Hutcheson also said that having a less-combative host might help the dinner return to its goal of giving reporters and politicians a fun evening together, without the controversy that has sometimes entered into the dinner. "My personal feeling is that this [the Little pick] is about ENOUGH" he said of the fallout from last year. "We don't need to have a blogfest and a partisan slugfest after the dinner. We don't need that."

So what we need is a cozy night of D.C. journalists and politicians, pretending to be social equals and putting aside that whole "watchdog" bullshit for a few hours? Sounds good. I think that'll definitely clear up this misconception that Beltway reporters are one matchbook and a marker away from being booty called by the political establishment.

UPDATE VIA ROMENESKO:

Impersonator Rich Little says White House Correspondents Association dinner organizers made it clear to him they don't want a repeat of last year's controversial appearance by Stephen Colbert. "They don't want anyone knocking the president. He's really over the coals right now, and he's worried about his legacy." Little promises to play it safe. "I won't even mention the word 'Iraq.'"

Sigh.