A prayer for Van McKenzie

All right, deal me in.
The page layout mentioned early in this post, about UGA the dog, was brilliant. And it was my page, which is to say it had Van's thumbprints all over it. Georgia Tech had beaten rival Georgia, between the hedges no less, and Van was his usual self on a Saturday evening in the hectic AJC sports department. "Whaddya got?'' he'd always ask, and you'd show him your layout, knowing full well that a better plan was about to be hatched.
He rarely was satisfied with a preliminary layout or the first batch of photos the shooters would print. He'd usually want to see more. And when he wanted a photo cropped a certain way, he'd take the actual print and just FOLD IT UP! Screw the China marker that we used in those days to indicate crops. Bend the damn photo into creases, forcing the photo department to spit out another print.
The shot of UGA the dog on its back with its paws in the air, I don't even remember where Van found it. He may have gone through the negatives himself. Nobody else would have looked for a photo of a dog when you had a triumphant shot of Bill Curry and Tech quarterback John Dewberry hugging at Sanford Stadium, unlikely victors holding a piece of the hedges in their hands.
We went with the Curry-Dewberry shot in the center of the page, but Van was not content. He found the print of the dog, creased the top and bottom to make a strong horizontal, and before long it was stripped six columns across the top of the page.
The lede hed did indeed say Roll over, UGA. But yet another touch was provided by Van when he called for reversed white type in the UGA photo that read:
TECH TEACHES THIS OLD DAWG A NEW TRICK
I had the page squirreled away for 22 years — in a stack of other favorites — but it's on the wall this week. In honor of Van.

 

An unparalleled, long and winding road of a thread.

 

Nice to see ya chime in, Jimbo.

And, folks, therein lies another example of Van:
Even though the position meant considerable tinkering by the boss, this Sunday sports editor was graciously allowed by Van to constantly wear his hair long, his beard full and all the Husqvarna T-shirts Smith owned (dozens, apparently).


The Sentinel people could better address this point, but the one time this reporter stopped by their office and joined them for Friday Mexican (a restaurant I rather enjoyed), there was a good crowd of writers/columnists working in the office and a contented table of eight at lunch, most of which he drove in his hulking Chevy SuburbVan. Afterward, he explained the come-hither-to-the-office policy, saying it rooted the writers to each other and the department, it promoted an exchange of ideas -- not to mention jokes -- and it brought an overall team spirit to the place. Was he Big Brother looking over their shoulders? Nah. He wanted them out on their beats, too. And he worried about them staying too long on a single beat.

 

So, Bill Kovach.

Kovach, a great newspaperman, NYT's Washington bureau chief, once a contender for Abe Rosenthal's throne.

A Saturday afternoon, in Kovach's first month as the AJC editor.

Fire at the federal penitentiary.

Kovach asks the city desk, "What photographers do we have out there?"

City desk: "Nobody."

Kovach: "What? Get somebody out there."

City desk: "Can't."

"What do you mean, 'can't'?"

"They're all in Athens."

"What? What are they doing in Athens?"

"Georgia's playing."

Van had had an idea. Put photographers everywhere. On the sidelines, in the end zone, on the press box roof from one 25-yard line to the other. Shoot every play. Every play. Then, whatever the big play was, he'd have it frame-by-frame to strip it on a double-truck. So he had every AJC photographer at Sanford Stadium. And not for the first time.

Comes Monday, Kovach to Van: "What are you DO-ing?"

Van: "You don't know how big football is around here."

Kovach tells the story this week. Laughing. Loved Van, talked to him just before he died.
"I finally told him, 'Van, take whoever you want, but leave me somebody for breaking news.'"

The beginning of a beautiful partnership.

 

My condolences to his family and friends ... I first heard of Van's legend from Jim Smith (above) when we were assistants together in St. Paul. When Van took over the Sentinel, I was floored by what he could make a section do and the fact he was leading us all in a different direction for enterprise. After downing a beer here and there with him at APSE conventions, he was truly a man to admire and one who lived up. I will always be jealous of Jim and Lynn and Speros and others because they got to work with him. My only regret is turning down a bloody brain -- on two different occasions. Next time I won't, I told him.

 

From: Buddy Martin
Re: Van

So it’s Super Bowl 39, Jacksonville, and I’ve been walking around the hospitality room all day, grousing to Van McKenzie and Dave Kindred about newspapers abandoning their mission. Who’s minding after the writers anymore? Where are the word people? How come every sports editor I know is so busy doing budgets, conferring with HRS, going to news meetings, etc. instead of reading stories, coaching writers, inspiring ideas?
And why don’t we tap into resources like the Poynter Institute for some help?

Van says to me: “You’re right. Why don’t you get on the APSE program in Orlando this June and talk about that.”

So Dave Kindred and Roy Peter Clark of the Poynter Institute and Woody Paige and I get on the program that day. We talk about our lost mission. We talk about rising above the morass to pay homage to writing. And we propose a session at Poynter.

Last April, Roy and I put together the first Poynter Sports Journalism Summit, with the help of Van before he got sick again. Van wasn’t able to be there, but his finger prints were all over it. For a faculty we had Dave, Sally Jenkins, John Schulian, Jason Whitlock, Jemelle Hill, Christine Brennan, Alex Wolff, etc. and editor/producers like Vince Doria of ESPN and Tom Jolly of the NYTimes and Teri Thompson of the NYDaily News and Sandy Rosenbush of SI (then)… and I could go on.

Around 200 people attended the first Summit. When we broke up on Friday, it was a tossup as to who left on the biggest journalism high – the participants or the faculty. Without Van McKenzie’s vision, support and love for writers and writing, this would have never gotten off the ground. That’s why we will raise our glasses to him in St. Petersburg this April. And that's why this thread is going on 10 pages.

 

Well, Jim...sorry, for the remembrance of Belly Up...I knew it was something like that. Great page, whatever the typography....hi from a guy who traveled in the same circles, by the way...

Put Bloody Brains to rest tonight, by the way...a few done, and now done...

 

I met Van at APSE judging in Torrance two years ago. As mentioned more than several times above, a group of us visited the Zebra Room after the hotel bar closed and, as luck would have it, I found myself at the bar trying to order a drink as Van was ordering another massive round of Bloody Brains. "Here," he said, shoving one into my hand. I really had no other choice but to drink it. I introduced myself and we chatted for a few minutes and then he ordered more shots. ...
This thread is an amazing tribute to a guy who touched many people in our profession.
My condolences to his family and to all of you who worked with him through the years,

Rusty Hampton

 

Gotta keep this on the front page for at least a few more days ....
At last year's APSE judging in Orlando, Van organized a National mini-reunion. Damned if he didn't have National T-shirts and golf caps for everyone--15 years after the paper went out of business. It was two hours of great storytelling, cold beers and side-splitting laughter. And a memory of what made working at The National such a great experience--Van put together a newsroom full of people who loved what they were doing and wanted the paper to be great every day (or at least the six days a week--then five--that we published). He was an incredibly serious, dedicated and passionate journalist, but he also knew how to have fun. No surprise then, that people loved to work for him.

 

I just made myself a Bloody Brain and... damn that was good.

 

I think mentioning Bloody Brain above that photo is a real war crime, Your Holiness.

 

This message from Furman Bisher, venerable columnist for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution:


I feel sort of left out, in that I didn't get in a few words about Van. He walked into a situation at our place that wasn't easy and had some cranky people to deal with, including one old crank. We couldn't have had a better relationship, and he handled it with aplomb. Happily, he and I had personal exchanges during the final months of his life, and in retrospect, I treasure them. --Furman Bisher.