'Checkered past' in journalism? Columnist to share career track at Ashland Senior Center
If it weren’t for Margaret Taylor you wouldn’t be reading this.
Margaret was my journalism professor in college. But she was so much more than that. She taught me how to write like a journalist, to write clear, concise, straightforward prose. More importantly, Margret civilized me. Basically, she taught me how to sit at the table and eat with a fork.
Margaret had her work cut out for her.
In the late ’70s, I came to the eastern campus of Cuyahoga Community College after wearing out my welcome at the downtown and western campuses. I was in a dark place then. A product of inner-city Cleveland and rough around the edges to start with, I’d fallen into a pattern of drunken, rowdy behavior.
I’d stay out till all hours drinking and carousing, sleep a few hours, then go to work in the morning at my family’s bindery on East 55th Street. In the afternoon, I’d attend classes at CCC, rest up a bit at my apartment, then head out for another night of drunken debauchery — making my rounds in the Flats, University Circle, and Cleveland Heights.
With a little help from my friends, I managed to get kicked out of virtually every bar in Cleveland Heights. Including the Flipside on Mayfield Road. The owner didn’t take kindly to patrons bringing livestock into his bar.
My self-destructive behavior wasn’t limited to nightly bar hopping. I drank at home, in my car, and occasionally on campus when they had beer days. Students could buy cups of draft beer and take them to class if they wanted. Which I did. As many cups as I could carry. In journalism class, I’d line up the red plastic cups in front of me and drink them one by one.
In spite of all that, Margaret recognized my potential and took me under her wing. She set me up with a full journalism scholarship and made me assistant editor of the High Point, CCC East’s award-winning student newspaper.
Then she set out to civilize me. It was a long, painful process. On at least one occasion, I reduced her to tears. But Margaret stuck with me. Eventually it paid off. After dabbling in freelance humor writing for more than a decade, I drifted into journalism. Which included a 25-year stint (and counting) writing for the Ashland Times-Gazette.
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There’s a reason I’m telling you all of this.
I’ve agreed to give a presentation at the Ashland County Senior Citizens Center about my checkered past in the world of journalism. Naturally, I’ll touch upon Margaret’s role and influence. But, given the audience, there’s one Margaret story I won’t be telling there. So I’ll share it with you.
The High Point had won a prestigious student newspaper award, one of many it earned under Margaret’s leadership. She took me and a few other staff members to New York to accept the award. I’m not sure whether the college paid for the flight and hotel accommodations. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had paid for it out of her own pocket.
At one point during the weekend, Margaret and I ended up walking through Washington Square Park. She was following a half-step behind me when a man emerged from the shadows.
Not seeing that Margaret was with me, he asked, “Hey, wanna buy a bag?”
I reached back, took Margaret’s hand, brought her up alongside me and responded, “No thanks, I brought my own.”
Margaret saw the humor in it, but the pusher was clearly flustered. He apologized profusely.
POSTSCRIPT: I’m sorry to say I lost contact with Margaret over the years. In doing research for my Ashland County Senior Citizens Center presentation, I learned she had died in November 2011.
Margaret Wischmeyer Taylor had a remarkable life and career — which included helping riffraff like me find a place in the world. You can learn more about who she was at alumni.duke.edu/magazine/articles/margaret-wischmeyer-taylor-41
This article originally appeared on Ashland Times Gazette: T-G columnist to share journalism career at Ashland Senior Center
