A salute to the N&O’s most dogged and meticulous reader, who nicely flags every mistake

For at least a dozen years, a lone patrolman of the English language has spotted, logged and notified authorities about every error in The News & Observer’s pages — every person who waivered instead of wavered, got phased rather than fazed or, in a breach of grammar punishable by eternal hellfire, experienced Marshall law.

No factual error can escape the eyes of Bob Goudreau, perhaps the N&O’s most avid reader and certainly its most meticulous, and every editor dreads but appreciates his polite but insistent corrections, such as this chilling example complete with semicolon:

“The word that should have been used here is ‘eke.’ ‘Eek’ is not even a verb; it is an exclamatory term signifying fright or alarm.”

Goudreau once counted six typographical errors in a single story. He once penned a page-long critique of a report on COVID-19 statistics, including bullet points and a significant amount of math. When I polled the newsroom, one editor produced 58 Goudreau e-mails lingering in his inbox — all of them wagging a finger.

“I do it out of love,” Goudreau said. “They jump out at me. They gnaw at my eyes.”

As an aging columnist, I hail from an era when newspapers got pieced together with pica poles and X-Acto knives, and in that distant past, legions of staffers known as copy editors put two sets of cruel eyes on every story, stopping writers like me from “peaking your interest.”

(The correct term is “piquing.”)

These days, Goudreau acts as a volunteer for literacy and accuracy, realizing what pandemonium ensues when sloppiness becomes standard. Take his response to this report on a 2019 skiing accident, which I include in its glorious near-entirety:

“I did find it odd that the article enclosed the phrase ‘ski patrol’ in quotes as if it were some exotic or unknown term that was begrudgingly used. Ski patrols are a standard feature of virtually every ski resort; you can think of them as the alpine equivalent of lifeguards at a pool or beach (except that they are even more ubiquitous, since many beaches and pools lack lifeguards.) Also, please note that the activity he was engaged in is called ‘skiing,’ not ‘snow skiing’— only the derivative activity of water skiing requires a modifier.”

A penetrating gaze for news and codes

Goudreau came to the Triangle in the mid-’80s, fresh from his native Massachusetts and Harvard University, where he majored not in English but in applied mathematics and computer science.

Even in the Ivy League, he had a Triangle connection, rooming with the older brother of Duke basketball star Danny Ferry, then nicknamed “Beans” for his beanpole stature.

Now nearing 60, with three grown daughters, Goudreau works as principal software engineer for Dell EMC, where he applies the same penetrating gaze he brings to the news.

“I am sort of the same kind of pain-in-the-ass guy as a code reviewer,” he said. “I just dove into that role as the very meticulous one.”

And for fun, he runs for long distances, trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon. When I asked for a picture, Goudreau sent one showing his self-described “runner’s face.”

He guesses that his N&O corrections generate groans or cries of wounded outrage.

“I’m sure their eyes roll,” he said, imagining the moment his name pops into an editor’s email. “It’s a low-effort thing to do. I’m at a keyboard already. I’m sitting on my butt.”

But about this Goudreau, for once, is mistaken. I recall one editor crying out, “Can we just go ahead and hire Bob Goudreau?”

We welcome readers’ red-pen revisions. The idea that anyone cares enough to not only read our words, but critique them, warms our inky hearts.

Thank you, Bob

I have a hand-written letter from a reader pinned to the wall behind this monitor, which reads, “When you die, you will go to Hell and be forced to read your own writings.”

It ranks among my most prized possessions. An old-school maxim I have always followed says, “A newspaper should make you damned mad.”

For fun, I ran Goudreau’s name through the archives and unearthed a letter to the editor he wrote in 2012, taking me to task for using the word “ancestor” when I meant “descendant.”

So I thank Goudreau, belatedly and with sincere fondness, for the attention.

And when he discovers this week’s malapropisms and misplaced modifiers, he knows where to find me.