In memory of an old friend and colleague

I lost a dear friend and colleague this week. Thirty years ago, David Hawpe, then executive editor of the Courier-Journal hired me fresh out of college after a fruitful Summer internship with the C-J. Landing that job was a huge break for me. I worked closely with David, just steps away from his office, for the next 15 years. It was a wild ride.

When David Hawpe took an interest in you, it was both a blessing and a curse. Well, he took a keen interest in me and my work, and it often felt like a full blessing of curses. As a fledgling journalist, he wanted to make sure I was prepared for the career ahead of me. If I unwittingly betrayed ignorance of a current event or historical matter in our morning editorial conference, I was going to pay for it. David had a razor-sharp way with words, and you didn’t want to find yourself on the wrong end of his switchblade.

On the other hand, if you did something well, he could reverse course and make you feel like you just scaled El Capitan. David could uplift or eviscerate with just a few words. But, as anyone who knew him knows, there were usually many more than a few; he was verbose. Our morning editorial conference often went past 90 minutes. I always sat near the door so I could make a hasty escape when discussion yielded to exposition, and it usually did.

In fact, when I moved to Houston, I left my colleagues a parting gift: a decorative hourglass to remind them to keep the morning meeting to an hour. I am certain that never worked. Keith Runyon tells me that when he and Steve Ford retired from the newspaper, they gave it to David for his personal collection. He got a good laugh from this. We all knew that the ultimate intended recipient was David to needle him about his affinity for long-winded soliloquies.

I was shy and uncertain of myself in the early days. But I was also quietly defiant. I sometimes took a contrary position, just to be obstinate and rebellious. This would lead to argument and debate. I was a poor debater at first. He had a massive vocabulary, and he liked to make it evident. I found the only way to keep David from abasing you in front of others was to sharpen your tongue. And that I did. It took years, but finally I was able to fence with David, and sometimes get the better of him.

And that was the point. David used to tell me, “I care too much about you to take it easy on you.” He made me a better journalist and a stronger person. The heartbreak of the timing is that, after more than a decade away from all my old friends on the editorial board, I was scheduled to go back for a visit next month. I messed up putting it off so long. Life gets in the way. Time slackens for no one. We are tempted to believe people will always be there. Sadly, I will always regret not getting back sooner.

If memory serves, David once confided to me that his deepest fear was not being of any consequence. Those that know his storied career know that he was a person of enormous consequence. Those that know him personally know that he could be alternately uplifting and infuriating. As mentioned, having David Hawpe in your life could often seem like a curse. In retrospect, it was all a blessing. I will miss you, old friend.