“long ago, I used to be a young man …”
I love that line from Michael Peter Smith’s lovely song, “The Dutchman.” It’s a song that has been covered many times people and groups as varied as Liam Clancy, Jerry Jeff Walker and Celtic Thunder.
The line is from the chorus of a song about an old man near the end of his life, with memories lost and memories retained. His loving wife helps him over the rough spots.
“Let us go to the banks of the ocean where the walls rise above the Zuider Zee. Long ago, I used to be a young man and dear Margaret remembers that for me.”
I was reading a fascinating book by my former colleague and friend Mike Peters. “The Cornfield” is the story of a murder case that took 33 years to solve and get a conviction, and Peters was the reporter who covered the story from beginning to end.
I worked in Greeley for two years in the late ’80s, arriving nine years after the killing. I never heard a thing about the story while I lived there, but 1986-88 was a time nothing much was happening on the killing.
Greeley was the “Big Yellow Taxi” of my career. If you’re familiar with the Joni Mitchell classic …
“Don’t it always seem to go, you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone …”
Life-wise, it’s difficult to have. regrets when my subsequent moves led me to a wonderful wife and two amazing children. But I worked for a very good small paper for two years in Greeley and wound up spending 18 years at a mediocre paper in Southern California.
I was a big fish in a small pond in Greeley.. I remember the logo on my column included my signature, and when I signed a credit card receipt, the salesgirl said to me, “Most famous signature in town.”
I laughed, but I loved it.
It was the only time in my life I was running the show. As sports editor, I had six people working for me — three full-time and three part-time. My plan was to work my tail off for two years and then move on.
The full year 1987 was the hardest I ever worked in my life. For 12 months, I averaged 70 hours a week. I turned the Greeley Tribune sports section into one that was a finalist for national awards. Two of my employees that I mentored made it to the big time, first in big newspapers and then in broadcasting.
But an even prouder accomplishment was helping one of my part-timers — a young man with muscular dystrophy — learn the tricks of the trade. He went on to have a long career and worked at the Tribune till his death.
He actually won awards for a series he did on how the disabled are treated in Colorado.
I think I’m more proud of that than of any of the awards I won myself, either in Colorado or later in California.
I moved to Greeley from St. Louis when I was 36 years old.
Half a lifetime ago.
It really is funny how time slips away.