BROADCAST JOURNALISM STUDENT
AND CAMPUS PEACE ACTIVIST
FALL '66 to Late '67 and '70 to '73 at Bloomington & Fort Wayne
First, *ALL* of my best lessons came from Professor Richard Yoakam - and not all were in a classroom. But everyone of those lessons stuck with me for my entire career.
What I learned from Professor Richard Yoakam was a great gift. I've carried his priceless legacy of ethical guidance and love of the spoken word through my entire professional career. Even in the darkest of days for broadcast news, his philosophy is always there as a bright beacon for those of us with the big "J" on our shirts. Anyone who has had the fortune to learn from him knows how to use the flashiest of production values... without violating the journalistic integrity of the message. You see, the thing that keeps his lessons viable is something very simple: He did NOT get a cushy spot in the Collegiate Ivory Tower and only come out long enough for a reception when another book was published. Although, he did write a book that serves to guide thousands of journalist using new technologies: ENG: Television News
Unlike a majority of the teachers with whom I had contact at the university level, Dick Yoakam drifts freely between the college and the day-to-day (sometimes referred to as "real") world of broadcast news. He stays updated on trends, technologies, and the pendulum of ethical proprieties.
He does not demand his students memorize long lists of rules and formulas. His guidelines are always simple, applicable to the "real" world work environment whether using old Royal typewriters or fancy graphic and animation generating computer systems that are hooked into the internet as well as the Associated Press and in-house LAN network.
For example, this is how I remember the "Yoakam Handbook:"
1) KNOW (not just understand) your audience.....
Walk in their shoes where they work, live, and
play. Find out not only what they want to know,
find out what they need to know. If your mater-
ial that is neither, don't use it . . . PERIOD.
----SIMPLE----
2) Collect your information in an ethical way and
ALWAYS make sure you have corroborating sources
You don't have cross confirmation? Don't use it!
---Again: SIMPLE---
3) Always tell the truth, as best as it is known at
the time of publication or airing. This also includes
NOT convicting suspects . . (That's a jury's job)
4) Use short, declarative sentences... and avoid
using the passive voice like the plague. And use
humaneze - NOT copeze, medicaleze, computereze or
other language foreign to humans in your audience.
5) Make sure you lead with the lead. If you can
not figure out how to define what that is, write
only one thing: =============> .
Many teachers have a set of lame excuses for never getting off campus. Yoakam might have legitimately used his childhood polio as a reason - but never did. Even when I was in tip-top shape, he could beat me in the trip between the Radio-TV building and the Ernie Pyle Journalism Hall, four blocks away. I never figured out how he did it. Is there a subway I didn't know about under Showalter Fountain?
Some professors use sabaticals to hide in foreign libraries or museums - not Yoakam. His free time is spent WORKING in the business he teaches about. He was a field producer for guys like Tom Pettit at NBC. He's no stranger to crowded floors at the national political conventions, and a myriad of other places where news happens.
Did you ever think about how rough it is to field produce on a pair of crutches? Yoakam is one who could turn that perceived obstacle into a normal, if not beautifully choreographed, activity:
_____He'd steady himself with one hand on a well
worn metal crutch. That arm would also keep a
keep a grasp on his clipboard. His other crutch
was tucked at his side, as his hand on that side
waved directions to crew members - usually with
a smoking pipe firmly in hand as well. . . . .
_______When he needed to check something on the
clipboard or make a note, he'd shift his weight
from one crutch to the other as his pipe waving
hand also took the clipboard while the free hand
then took on the job of writing. . . . . . . .
And finally, I offer advice Yoakam gave me beyond the five simple canons above: Don't STUDY broadcast news, live it. Use your study time to learn all you can about the stuff on which you are reporting or producing, whether it's medicine, economics, crime, or anything else.
I'll always be thankful to Dick Yoakam for sharing his vast array of living broadcast news with me and his many other students over the years. He used his incredible skills as a wordsmith so we were able to live his experiences as well... eventually sending us on our way, hungry to discover our own lessons from living them.
Because of the gifts he gave me, I dedicate the Broadcast Journalism Shelf to him at the ERNIE PYLE MEMORIAL BOOKSTORE.
Click the up arrow to put this into context with other key lessons anchored in childhood.
I received my B.A. in the Spring of '73 with a double major in Radio/TV and Speech/ Theatre and minors in Journalism and Foreign Languages. Actually, I was just trying use up ALL of my benefits from the G-I Bill. I was determined to stay in school as long as I could without graduating. My plan to do that was simple and worked well. All I had to do was avoid taking two courses required for graduation.
One day I got back to my dorm, the Briscoe Quad over-21 experiment, and found a memo in my mailbox. It was from a Dean in the College of Arts & Sciences. He wanted me in his office as soon as possible. I was sure my goose was cooked. Someone turned me in for researching, writing, and selling term papers (with a "B" or better guarantee) or one of my many other "entrepeneural endeavors."
Or maybe campus security finally identified me as the leader of an assault on Showalter Fountain way back in 1966: One night, five kids running from five different directions dumped extra large boxes of laundry soap into the water. They then rushed back into the darkness - each taking a different escape path. In just a few seconds the brass dolphins began to blow bubbles. The sea nymphette was engulfed in a mountain of foam. A flood of soapy bubbles rolled two blocks down Seventh Street, and into the front door of the Student Union Building.
No, I'll bet it's for my involvement in the S.D.S. so long ago when Bill and Emily Harris were also part of that obnoxious gang. Never mind the most outlandish thing I did was to "shoot the moon" at an Army recruiter walking across Dunn Meadow.
I didn't know what prompted the note from some Dean, but I was convinced my summons meant something bad as I headed for the office across campus the next morning. I prepared myself to face the music but still was shaking in my boots - which were really an old pair of nearly worn out tennis shoes.
I was sweating when I arrived, already looking guilty of thing to which I faced charges... positive I was on the verge of facing an accusation which would definitely lead to expulsion. I wondered if I'd have to repay the G-I Bill money. Once inside his office, the dean invited me to sit in one of those maroon leather high back chairs. I thought: What a wonderfully comfortable place for an execution - at least NO blood will get shed on this furniture!
The first words out of his mouth convinced me I was right to worry: "Mister Duffey! We are finally on to you. We figured out the scam you are pulling." The sweat poured from places where there are no sweat glands. I'm dead. The Dean stood up and paced as he said, "We know your plan to stay an undergraduate indefinitely - by not taking two required courses!"
WHAT?!?!? THAT'S IT?!?!?!
I thought, "Oh my god, thank you lord!" and let out a huge gasp of relief.
The Dean responded, "Surprised we caught up with you, huh Mister Duffey?" I shook my head nervously in the affirmative. "Well, I have a surprise for you: The requirements were changed! Those two courses are no longer required." He thrust his right hand forward to shake hands, "Congratulations! You graduated LAST semester with a double major and double minor. You're now in graduate school! But you still must take the G-R-E test to continue."
"Oh yes sir... Right away sir... Thank you sir. Goodbye now, sir." *poof* I did not take the test, so that became my last semester at I-U. *poof* And I vanished from Bloomington.
Later that year a more well known person also seemed to vanish with a *poof* on the night of August 8th, 1973. I had just come out of a week of hiding - something I'd made a yearly ritual: From a few days before, until a few days after my birthday. Next to that noisy newsroom outside of Yoakam's office at IU, my next favorite place in the world at that time in my life was the WKJG-TV newsroom.
That's where I was when President Nixon went on TV to announce his resignation from the American Presidency. I glanced between Nixon's face on all three TV screens in the room, and the noisy Associated Press wire machine. The worn ribbon and keys hammered out the words as they came out of the President's mouth... at times a little before I heard them. Hear the historic words again by clicking Nixon's picture.
The resignation came just a short time after congressional hearings implicated the White House in a cover-up of the burglary into the Democratic National Committee Headquarters on June 17, 1972. Responding to the allegations, the President tried to distance himself from the "Watergate Scandal" with a TV address to the public. Click the picture to the left to hear his often immitated phrase, made famous in that speech.
A few years earlier, I would have gone out into the streets and screamed at the top of my voice, cheering Nixon's demise. Now, I just didn't feel like it. This incident just left me feeling sick to my stomach, not because a Republican lost his ass and face. I felt sick for my country and everything the Presidency and White House stood for... it was all changed now - redefined in a way that scared me. It left me more frightened than the thought of going to Vietnam a few years earlier.
I loved my country back then too. And I loved everything it stands for: Truth, Peace, and Justice for all. I was especially fond of the freedom of speech and freedom of the press. I used those freedoms every chance I could to express my opinions - most noticeably the ones showing opposition to the policy in Vietnam. I believed the war was wrong in every way imaginable. It was bad for my country. I did not sit around with my mouth shut. No, I was out there for every protest march, each demonstration, all candle light vigils.
Looking back on it now, it seems like no one heard all the commotion we created. Our message never got out... not until Walter Cronkhite joined us and took a stand against the U.S. participation in the "Southeast Asian conflict." It rattled L-B-J and his democratic machine, but he stayed on his deadly cursed course. Ironically, it was the next president - a Republican named Richard Nixon who was finally able to extricate us from that bottomless pit - into which billions of dollars and thousands of lives were thrown.
But before that came, our "grass roots" fight continued - whether anyone got our message or not. Those of us opposed to the war became allies against a common enemy and sometimes that meant forging relationships that were dubious at times. Such was my participation in the Students for a Democratic Society... better known as the S-D-S.
There were three types of people in that organization. First, there were the hard core radicals who honestly believed the entire United States must be burned to the ground and started over. The second group, the one to which I belonged, wanted to work within the laws to affect changes in peaceful and non-violent ways. Then there was a third group, the hangers-on: They didn't know a damn thing about politics or issues or much of anything. They belonged only to attend meetings which always seemed to end with a drug induced party.
You may remember: two of the "terrorists" who kidnapped newspaper heiress Patty Hearst belonged to the I-U SDS chapter, before they joined the Symbionese Liberation Army. With the violent reputation of the SLA, you might think Bill and Emily Harris belonged to the extremist faction within our SDS chapter. You'd be wrong. I remember the couple as two people who enjoyed the dope but could care less about politics.
I honestly doubt either of them knew the significance of the Gulf of Tonkin incident. That's why I was so shocked when their pictures came out on the F-B-I wanted poster. To this day, I'd like to understand what drove these easy going people into such a rampage. If something could draw them into such radical action, why is it so hard to believe Patty Hearst did not join the insanity of her own free will? That was a central focus when Patty went to trial on bank robbery charges in 1976.
If you can believe jailhouse statements by Bill and Emily, no one forced Ms. Hearst to join the crime spree. They disputed defense claims that "Tania" faced death if she refused to take part, and her captors forced her to make (news release videotape) statements supporting the SLA's radical position. You can hear the Harris' statments from the L-A prison by clicking this text link or their F-B-I POSTER above.
If you know either Bill or Emily or where they live today, please show this to him or her - I hear they are no longer a "them." If they happen to see this on the web, I hope they get in touch with me. I still want to know and understand their story. Your story CAN be told without opening a door for further prosecution.
In the Master's program, I studied Broadcast Law, Programming, Management, and International Communications. With just nine hours to go, I got fed up with academia and went to work - outside the transparent wall around the campus.
I managed to break out the comfortable world of campus life, only to wind up in some very familiar surroundings.
See for yourself by clicking the LOGO.
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