An artist who feels

A profile of an artist whose works belie any disability.

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The Count returns

Count Basie, the jazz legend, returned to his adopted hometown of Kansas City for a triumphal concert that was the epitome of grace. He was in poor health and showing his age. I interviewed him in his hotel room, which was equipped like a hospital room. I have a memory of a bed pan, but maybe my imagination has embellished the scene. No matter. He gave the audience every bit of energy he had. It was an inspiring thing to see. And as it turned out, he didn't have long to live.

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Introducing ... computers in schools

An early story about a somewhat successful invention.

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A new orchestra strikes high note

Kansas City's cultural elite went into crisis mode when the city's famed old orchestra collapsed under financial pressure. A new group was rapidly put together, and an esteemed Kansas City daughter returned to lead its premiere.

This story wasn't particularly well-written, I see as I read it over today, but it did the job. It led the Saturday paper, the Times' biggest edition; it didn't publish on Sundays.

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Arthur Bryant: Barbecue king, philosopher

One of my favorite interviews ever, even though some brain-dead editor buried it on page 11 of the metro section, because of the richness of the quotes that glided so smoothly from the lips of Arthur Bryant, possibly the greatest name in Kansas City barbecue.  The master died not long after this -- the beginning of a string of deaths by notables soon after I'd interviewed them (Abbie Hoffman; Villanova coach Al Severance), causing my very witty friend Jon to dub me a name I wore proudly for awhile: "The Grim Reap-orter"  

Tom McCall

Playing what they wanted, with great taste

I loved profiling this independent radio station.

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Bigotry: Oregon's sad history

After a rash of swastika graffiti swept the Oregon town where I was working, I dug into the history of the state. And I found that it was no accident that Oregon was about 98 percent white and Christian. The easy-going, eco-friendly image of the state belied a xenophobic past.

This account of that past was news to many people who read it, when it filled an entire issue of the Statesman-Journal's Sunday magazine, Oregon Territory.

I heard from many teachers afterward that they intended to use it in their social studies classrooms.

Here it is, in two PDFs.

Part one.

Part two.

RIP, Tim Hardin

Tim Hardin, the great singer-songwriter who wrote "If I Were A Carpenter," died with little notice in 1981 and happened to be buried in a small town near Salem, Oregon.

I believe I was the only journalist to attend his funeral.

Dylan finds Jesus, loses the rest of us

I've been a huge Bob Dylan fan my entire life, and in 1980 he came to Salem to play a show at the Oregon State Fairgrounds.  A year earlier he had taken a radical detour off the super-star track by declaring himself born-again and revamping his songwriting to declare his new-found allegiance to fire-and-brimstone Christianity. To most of us listeners, this was disconcerting, to say the least.

I tried to make sense of it all in an essay that appeared in the Statesman-Journal the morning of his show.

It had the most amazing impact.  On the day it appeared, Dylan's road manager called the newspaper with the message that "Bob wants to see you -- he read your piece and was knocked out by it."  The star was appearing in Portland, 40 miles north, that night, and I should meet him backstage after his show.

I did, with my then-wife Katie.

That's a story for another day.  For now, here's the article I wrote.