Nearly 17 years ago, the editor of the Hamilton County Herald congratulated me on my new job and told me to follow him to my desk. At that time, the newspaper was housed in a single office at Concierge Office Suites in the Republic Centre, but as we made our way along an L-shaped corridor, I mistakenly thought the people in the neighboring offices worked for the Herald, too.
When I later popped my head into each of those spaces and introduced myself as “the new guy,” I was met with a lot of funny looks.
Now I’m the one with a strange expression. I just finished writing my last article for the Herald – a profile of family law attorney Chrissy Mincy – and I’m not sure how I feel.
I know one thing: Writing for the Herald has been a great gig. I can’t imagine a better job for a writer, or at least for me. Part of that is due to the nature of Chattanooga: the city is large enough to provide a rich diversity of stories and small enough that everyone’s story matters.
And everyone has a story about themselves to tell. That has been my guiding belief while writing for the Herald. Whether the person I was interviewing was a lawyer, a Realtor, a small-business owner, the founder of a nonprofit or a UTC student; whether they were looking back on 50 years of practicing law or had just acquired their real estate license at the age of 18; and regardless of their ethnicity, nationality, gender, religious beliefs or political affiliation, they had a story worth telling.
My guiding principle while writing for the Herald has been to present a portrait of people other media might not provide. (This is not a criticism of other outlets; all media have their own mandate.) For example, I believe Chattanooga is home to lawyers and Realtors who are just as motivated by philanthropy as they are by making a good living.
If someone combed through the Herald’s archives and counted the attorneys and real estate agents I’ve profiled, I’d argue that Chattanooga has at least that many professionals who care about the people they serve and want to make a positive impact on their lives and in this city.
Do I have favorites? Of course. But I won’t share their names or hint at their stories any sooner than I’d reveal even one syllable of what people said between, “You can’t print this next thing,” and, “We’re back on the record.”
I will, however, say the trust everyone placed in me was humbling, and that speaking with and getting to know the individuals I’ve profiled has been a great professional privilege. If you and I sat down and chatted, then you made my life richer, and you have my gratitude.
Everyone who’s learned I’m leaving the Herald has asked two questions: “What are you doing next?” and “Who’s taking your place?”
My answer to the first question is, “I have irons in the fire.” My reply to the second question is, “Someone who will inject it with fresh, creative energy.” What I haven’t said yet is, “I’m looking forward to reading their stories.” I am, and I hope you are, too.
I’ll close with a few behind-the-scenes anecdotes. Think of this as the Herald’s blooper reel for 2007-2024.
• Two people have compared my writing to well-known artists. One said I was “Picasso with a pen.” I believe that was a compliment. Being called “the Jackson Pollock of journalists” was not.
• My editor insisted I ask the people I’m interviewing for their age. I never felt comfortable doing this but understood the necessity. Once, an elderly gentleman turned the tables on me and said, “I’ll tell you how old I am after you tell me how old you are.” I thought that was fair.
• I once nodded off during an interview. In my defense, I’d just eaten lunch, a fan was blowing nearby and I was interviewing a tax attorney who was speaking in a tone that could have lulled warring tribes to sleep on the battlefield. When I snapped awake, I was grateful to discover he seemed to have not noticed.
• I once interviewed a Realtor in her home late in the morning. As we spoke, her tiny dog circled my feet and growled. The pup eventually settled down and padded out of the room without me noticing. So, when I heard another growl, I said, “I think your little friend is back at it.” It was the agent’s stomach, clamoring for lunch.
• Occasionally, people would tell me interesting things about themselves after their profile was published. The one that stung the most was the attorney who said, “I meant to tell you I’m also an opera singer.”
• The Herald publishes human interest stories, not exposés. However, I once received a venomous scolding from a reader who wished I’d delved into the sordid details of their former spouse’s behavior when they were married. I’ll stop there and let you use your imagination – a courtesy they did not grant me.
• I’d often choose to exclude a tasty bit from a story because the profile was already long enough. This always pained me. Mincy told me one such story I’ll share as an example: In addition to working in the music industry while a college student, she spent a summer detasseling corn on a Nebraska farm. She took the job after a friend agreed to pay a speeding ticket she didn’t want her parents to know about and insisted she take the job so she could repay him.