Our professor said he had a guest to introduce to the class. He disappeared around the end of the front wall and was soon back at his podium, alone.
He’d put on his suit jacket, and he said he was so-and-so (not his real name) and was going to bring a factory to town and hire such-and-such number of people.
We began to catch on: Bill Bridges (his real name) was holding a mock press conference in our Basic Reporting class.
We started to play along, introducing ourselves and asking questions (“I’m Anne Durham from The Belleville Times …”). Good thing we did — our assignment that day was to write a news story based on that press conference.
Indiana journalism lost a significant leader recently. Bridges, professor emeritus of journalism at Franklin College, died June 22 at the age of 88.
While he logged his own successful career in newspapers, from working for United Press International in Europe to being assistant city editor for the Louisville Courier-Journal, he later became professor and mentor to a generation of students.
He cheered them on as they launched their own careers. I remember the day in his office, a few weeks into that reporting class, when he asked me if I’d ever thought about writing for a living.
Stories and examples from his experiences as a reporter and editor made concepts in class come alive. So did the variety of pieces he had us write: Pair off in class, interview each other and write about that. Think of a memorable family member and write about him or her. Attend an on-campus concert and write a review.
He was adviser for the student newspaper, The Franklin. Sometimes people were stuck on what they were writing for class or for that newspaper. He would ask a few questions, make a couple of suggestions and help them figure out what they needed to do next. Maybe you should walk over to that part of campus where the burglary happened so you know how it’s laid out. Maybe you should call this person, so she has a chance to respond to what was said.
Each week, after the students published the newspaper, we awaited a little in-house publication of his own, a critique of each week’s issue that was posted in the journalism building and distributed in the cubby-style newsroom mailboxes of the staff. If the start of a story was great, we heard about it. If a word had been misspelled, we heard about it.
Years later, I was composing a similar post-publication analysis for some high school students submitting stories for the Daily Reporter’s school section. I asked him to share pointers. He said to sandwich a little constructive criticism between two huge slabs of praise.
I should perhaps say he wrote that, because we had this conversation in print, likely by letter instead of email. Over the years he corresponded with a number of former students about work, travel, books and such.
He was devoted to his wife, Karen. They were active in their church. He often wore a huge grin, and if something funny happened, he’d throw back his head and give a deep, hearty laugh.
He was curious, kind and encouraging.
Over the past 27 years I’ve told Daily Reporter readers hundreds of stories, mostly about Hancock County, its events and people. Yet there was one story, a powerful story that helped set them all in motion, that I hadn’t shared — until now.
It was the story I, and hundreds of other students, lived long ago with our esteemed professor, Bill Bridges.
Anne Durham Smith is a 1995 graduate of Franklin College of Indiana. She has been a reporter and copy editor for the Daily Reporter for 27 years.
