Neil Campbell, the Press managing editor, said his newspaper had an opening for a general assignment reporter and wondered if I'd be interested in interviewing for the position. I was happy in Lamar and wasn't looking for a new job, but I still agreed to the interview.
Neil told me I'd been on the Press' radar for quite a while and that I'd also been recommended for a reporting job by another staff member, Marvin VanGilder.
I met with Neil and the publisher, Jim Farley, the interview went well, and I was offered the job.
I was tempted, no doubt about it, but I liked being the boss and eventually, I turned down the offer and stayed at the Democrat.
By March 1990, I was growing a bit restless at the Democrat. I still loved the job, but I wasn't making much money, so one afternoon, I called Neil and said, "If you're still interested, I want to work at the Press."
Neil had every right to hang up on me. It took a lot of nerve to call him two years after I rejected his offer. Instead, he hired me and the next three and a half years were the most enjoyable years in my 22 years as a newspaper reporter.
I didn't think it would be that way at first. For the first month I was there, I did one or two assignments a day, and spent a lot of time waiting for something to do. I was used to doing all kinds of stories every day at the Democrat.
As it turns out, those first weeks turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I was able to see how the newsroom operated and I began the process of learning from newspaper veterans like Marvin VanGilder and City Editor Jack Harshaw and I watched how Neil kept things running smoothly.
By that time, Neil had been managing editor for 16 years. After three years as a courthouse reporter, he was promoted to the editor position at age 27. He was not the type of editor you saw in the movies. He was soft spoken, cultured and led by listening.
If there was a dispute in a staff meeting, he carefully weighed what his reporters were saying, then made his decision.
He was willing to listen to reporters' ideas and I hit him with one I fully expected to have rejected after I'd been at the Press for a few months. I told him I wanted to start a night shift and begin generating more of my own stories.
That way, I said, since I was serving as the area reporter, I could also cover meetings of city council and school board meetings in Jasper, Sarcoxie and Webb City and could also start doing some sports coverage. I'd still be available for any assignments Neil had.
He jumped at the idea and for the next three years, I showed up at one o'clock every day, checked in, made my rounds of area communities or handled an assignments, and then covered night meetings and activities. The stories would be on the computer for Neil when he arrived the next morning.
Looking back more than three decades later, I appreciate even more the job Neil did, quietly guiding a newspaper that had some major egos, including Marvin VanGilder and me.
He did this day after day, despite dealing with health issues that eventually forced him into an early retirement in December 1993.
The best example I saw of Neil's leadership style came in 1991 during a showdown between me and the sports editor Bill Denney about the way I covered an incident at a Carthage High School girls basketball game at Webb City.
The best player on the Carthage team, angered by the coach pulling her out of the game, left the floor, went to the locker room, dressed, came back and tossed her uniform at the coach's feet and walked out.
I didn't write a word about it in my article. When Denney, who stood 6-6 and weighed over 250 pounds, learned about what happened, he asked me to come into the conference room and immediately began shouting at me.
"That was news!" he said, slamming his fist on the table.
I told him if she had come back and physically attacked the coach, I would have written about it, but this was a teenage girl who did something stupid and it didn't need to be recorded for history.
Bill continued to shout it was news, and in a way he was right, but it wasn't my idea of the kind news I wanted to put in the Press.
Meanwhile, the women in the front office grew concerned, not just about the raised voices, but about my safety. When Neil returned from lunch, they steered him to the conference room.
"What's going on, boys?" Neil asked.
Bill told the story, never mentioning who made what decision on what went into my article. When Bill finished, Neil said. "You made the right decision, Bill. There was no reason to put that in the story."
Bill left the conference room.
There was never any doubt Neil knew I was the one who made the call.
Neil also served as a buffering zone between the publisher and the staff on occasion, including a day in 1993 when Jim Farley and I got into an argument and Farley fired me. I don't even remember now what the dispute was about.
The next day, Neil called me at home and said Farley wanted me back and was going to give me a raise.
I'm in debt to Neil for my job, the raise and my eventual promotion to be Neil's successor as managing editor and for teaching me the importance of a leader being a listener.
Neil Campbell died Thursday at age 79.
