In Carter's Day

I found it in a cardboard box in the back of my bedroom while “decluttering.”

It appears to have followed me wherever I’ve lived for the past 47-plus years, tagging along like a faithful puppy -- except for the “not craving attention” part. Instead, it was content to be stored out of sight and out of mind for nearly five decades.

For its age, I’d say the Wednesday, July 14, 1976 edition of the New York Post was in pretty good shape.

Like its owner – me-- the newspaper was a little dusty, pretty crinkled and frayed around the edges, and sort of brittle too.

But the pages of my copy of volume 175, number 202 of the country’s oldest continuously published daily newspaper still turned pretty easily, and reading it was like opening and peering into a time capsule.

July 14, 1976 was, according to the newspaper, “Carter’s Day” in New York City -- the day Georgia Governor Jimmy Carter would be nominated by his party to run for president.

It was to happen that night at the famed Madison Square Garden, between 7th and 8th Avenues and 31st and 33rd Streets, in Midtown Manhattan.

And I just happened to be in the Big Apple to witness it first-hand.

Well, kind of.

My mom had gotten caught up in the big US Bicentennial Celebration frenzy that gripped America that summer. Apparently overcome by a high degree of Freedom Fever, she booked most of my family on a bus trip that took us from our home base of St. Louis to Washington, DC; Philadelphia and New York.

We just so happened to be in The City That Never Sleeps at the same time as the Democratic National Convention.

It would be impossible to adequately describe what it was like to be in New York City at that time. Think about your first trip to the Big Apple, and then think about what it would have been like to be there just a few months past your 16th birthday – a skinny, geeky kid with braces who’d never ventured much farther than his South St. Louis neighborhood.

Then think about what it would be like to be there when the biggest story in the country was unfolding.

While the Circle Line Tour, seeing a Broadway show, and visiting the top of the Empire State Building were all fun, the best part of the trip was the time I spent around The Garden, during the convention.

The streets – already bustling because, hey, it was New York City – were alive with the sounds of protestors, the sights of pop-up vendors hawking political t-shirts, hats and buttons, and restaurants offering “convention specials.”

And then there were the reporters – teams of them scouring the streets. Some were network folks doing “standup” reports in front of what passed for mini-cams in those days. Others were ducking in and out of midtown shops, pens and notepads in hand, seeking to track down convention delegates – the ones from places like Oklahoma and Arkansas the better –to provide a little local color for their morning editions.

Thrilling? Intoxicating?

Yes, to both. I loved the sound and the sight and even the stink of New York City that summer. (Yes, stink. If you ever visited New York in the 70’s, you know.)

I was hooked. A reporter! Imagine watching things, telling people what you saw, and then getting PAID for it!!

Yep, this is what I wanted to be when I grew up!

When I returned home later that month it was decided.

I’d pursue a career in journalism – a path that would include writing for my high school newspaper, going off to a college journalism school and then finally landing a job in this exciting industry!

Lacking the looks needed for TV and the thoroughness required for a job in print, I chose a career in radio.

And for a long time – 21 years - it was a pretty good ride.

Literally.

Part of my career had me accompanying legendary St. Louis pilot/traffic reporter/media personality Allen Barklage as he reported from his airborne helicopter for local TV and radio. It was exhilarating being up there in that copter every day, seeing the city from the 500-foot level. And there was the added bonus of Allen buzzing my neighborhood on occasion, making me the talk of the cul-de-sac.

There were other highlights.

I worked in newsrooms where I benefited from some plum assignments -- with stations sending me on the road to follow presidential campaigns in Iowa and New Hampshire, then on to political conventions in Houston, San Diego and Chicago, and sports stories in Phoenix, San Francisco and Minneapolis.

I met two presidents along the way.

And I met a lot of people with whom I am still friends.

I did a news report from atop the Gateway Arch in St. Louis (inside, not outside). I met authors, TV stars, recording artists, sports figures and national political leaders.

Best of all, my dad would go to local stores, say his last name in the course of a retail transaction and be asked, “are you related to that guy on the radio?” That would bring a smile to his face, and mine.

The ride ended for me in the late 1990’s, when the station where I was working gutted its reporting staff. The newswriting was on the wall, not just for me, but for the radio news field in general.

My choice to become a radio newsman turned out to be a little like selecting “blacksmith” as a career ambition just about the time Henry Ford started thinking of mass-producing automobiles.

Over the ensuing months and years, many of my broadcast news colleagues suffered the same fate, but we all generally survived – many, like myself, finding good jobs in communication-related fields.

And really, that’s ok.

It’s hard to fathom how much has changed in radio news – and the news reporting business in general -- since the days of Jimmy Carter.

There was journalistic bias and questionable story selection back in Carter’s Day. I’m sure there was sloppy writing, and many fact errors (I made some whoppers myself).

But not like it seems to be today. And thanks to the Internet, all of these foibles are amplified, and live forever.

These are all things that would frustrate the life out of me if I were still in the news business, so I’m glad I’m not.

More than a year ago, 99-year-old Jimmy Carter, who won his party’s nomination on that July night in New York in 1976 and then ascended to the presidency, was placed into home hospice care, along with his wife Rosalynn, who died in November.

Given the life expectancy of humans, it won’t be long before you’ll be reading a lot of news stories about Jimmy Carter.

His presidency was marked by inflation, a hostage crisis and high unemployment.

His post-presidency saw him win a Nobel peace prize and build thousands of homes for Habitat for Humanity.

So, opinions about Jimmy Carter will vary; his legacy will be mixed.

As for me, when I see the name Jimmy Carter, I’ll most likely be thinking back to July 1976, and the event that gave birth to a thrilling time in my life.

Yep. It was a heck of a ride In Carter’s Day. But I’m glad to be off that road.

As always, thanks for reading.