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Remembering the sting of male discrimination she repeatedly endured during her career as a newspaper-woman, Kathryn Tucker Windham with wistful amusement recalls here the hurt and the awful fact of being overlooked, snubbed, and ribbed by her male colleagues.
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Windham, Kathryn Tucker, Journalists--United States--Biography, Editors--United States--Biography, Women journalists--United States--Biography, Women in journalism--United States, Alabama--Social life and customs.
publication date
:
1990
lcc
:
PN4874.W675A3 1990eb
ddc
:
070/.92
subject
:
Windham, Kathryn Tucker, Journalists--United States--Biography, Editors--United States--Biography, Women journalists--United States--Biography, Women in journalism--United States, Alabama--Social life and customs.
Page iii
Odd-Egg Editor
by Kathryn Tucker Windham
UNIVERSITY PRESS OF MISSISSIPPI Jackson & London
Page iv
Copyright 1990 by Kathryn Tucker Windham
All rights reserved Manufactured in the United States of America
93 92 91 90 4 3 2 1
Designed by Sally Horne.
The paper in this book meets the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity of the Council on Library Resources.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Windham, Kathryn Tucker. Odd-egg editor / by Kathryn Tucker Windham. p. cm. ISBN 0-87805-438-3 (alk. paper): $16.95 1. Windham, Kathryn Tucker. 2. JournalistsUnited States Biography. 2. Women journalistsUnited StatesBiography. 4. Women in journalismUnited States. 5. AlabamaSocial life and customs. I. Title. PN4874.W675A3 1990 070'.92dc20 [B] 90-12131 CIP
Page v
For Allen Rankin, who, by going of to fight in World War II, made it possible for me to become Odd-Egg Editor
Page 1
Chapter 1
When I was a little girl in Thomasville, Alabama, my playmatesEvelyn, Teace, Ruth, Eloise, Patsy, Rosamond, Berylwanted to grow up to be teachers, nurses, secretaries or missionaries. I wanted to be a newspaper reporter.
I hung around the Thomasville Times, the weekly paper my cousin Earl Tucker edited. I learned to set headlines by hand, choosing the letters from the worn wooden type cases and arranging them on the metal stick, and I learned to operate a small foot-pedal press where we printed notices about traveling shows, revival meetings, political rallies and Negro funerals.
Though I never mastered the operation of the Linotype, I miss the rhythmic, metallic clatter of its falling matrices when I visit newspapers now, just as I miss the clicking of the reporters' typewriter keys and the mechanical chatter of teletypes bringing news from far away. Newsrooms today are too silent, depressingly silent, as though their life and excitement departed with the noise.
Page 2
Earl let me write movie reviews of coming attractions at the local movie theatre (I thus earned a pass to all the picture shows), and he taught me to read columns of metal type upside down from left to right, a skill I later found useful.
I read the exchanges, mostly weekly papers, that accumulated on a long pine table near the press, and occasionally Earl and I would talk about how sorry a particular paper was or what good feature stories other papers carried. Leroy Gates, the Linotype operator, used those exchanges to start fires in the stove in the wintertime.
At home I read the Montgomery Advertiser: Grover Hall's editorials, Max Moseley's sports page, and Atticus Mullin's "Passing Throng." That was the paper I wanted to work for.
So, shortly before I graduated from Huntingdon College in Montgomery, I went down to the Advertiser to apply for a job.
Hartwell Hatton, the city editor, leaned back in his swivel chair and stared straight at me. Then, never taking his pipe from his mouth, he said, "I've read some of your articles. You write well. If you were a man, I'd hire you. But I don't want any female reporters." He turned back to the clutter of paper on his desk. My first job interview was over.
The time was the spring of 1939, and I needed a job. It had never once occurred to me that the paper I wanted to work for would not want me. Certainly I never expected to be rejected solely because I was a girl!
It was my first encounter with sex discrimination. So, after my college graduation, still disappointed and stunned by Hatton's rejection, I went back home to Thomasville where I worked with my mother in her insur-
Page 3
ance agency, frequented my cousin Earl's newspaper office and was a stringer (at ten cents per inch) for the Mobile Press-Register, the Montgomery Advertiser (Hatton used my stories despite my being a girl!), and the Birmingham News.
I wrote about Thomasville's first traffic light; about the coffins that floated out of the basement of Kimbrough's store when the town ditch flooded; about fiddlers' conventions; about Indian artifacts unearthed in an archeological dig; about Clarke County's earliest historian, the Rev. Timothy H. Ball.
The first twenty-five dollars I earned (it took 250 inches of copy to earn twenty-five dollars), I used to buy Ball's History of Clarke County. Two elderly sisters in Grove Hill sold me their copy of the book, took it out of the old round-top trunk where it had lain for goodness knows how many years. "I always meant to read it, but I just never did. Papa read it and told me about some of the things in it. I don't believe Papa admired Reverend Ball," one of the sisters told me. The other sister was counting the twenty-five one-dollar bills I had handed her.
Ball's history became the nucleus of my collection of local history and continues to be my most treasured book.
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