The old “Lou Grant” TV show filmed some of its episodes at the Daily News in the late ’70s and early ’80s when our offices were in Van Nuys.
Bruce Winters, the editor back then, would clear out of his cluttered office at 5 p.m. and actor Ed Asner would move in for the night.
The rest of the show’s cast and crew commandeered the city room so we’d file our stories early and head over to the American Legion Hall down the block where you could get a bottle of Bud for half a buck and a game of 8-ball for a quarter.
The price was right, the company priceless. We’d hang out with the old vets for a couple of hours, shooting pool and getting an education into what made these men the backbone of what would be called the Greatest Generation.
When you put your life on the line for something, you tend to take it seriously.
Life for a newspaper reporter was good back then. None of us were making much money, but you didn’t get into the newspaper business to get rich. You got in it for the high.
For a shot at being the next Woodward and Bernstein breaking a big story, and for the look of envy and interest you’d see cross people’s faces when you answered their question, “so, what do you do for a living?”
You got in because you were nosey, and when things didn’t smell right, you wanted to know why. You got in because somebody had to guard the henhouse.
A buddy of mine who went from reporter to private investigator used to tape a dime to the back of his business card, and hand them out to cops, bartenders, cabbies, courtroom bailiff’s, and anyone with jobs where shady characters and interesting people hung out.
“Here’s the dime, give me the call,” he’d say, trolling for stories. And they called because they trusted us. We were the public’s watchdogs, real-life Lou Grants trying to bring people the news like Joe Friday was trying to catch the crooks on “Dragnet” – “Just the facts, ma’am.”
“Lou Grant” won 13 Emmy Awards in its six-year run, and was in the top 10 TV shows when it went off the air in 1982. People still loved watching the presses roll.
Reporters might not have been up there with doctors and firefighters as the most respected professions, but we weren’t down at the bottom with ambulance chasers and used car salesmen, either.
Why that’s changed so dramatically is going to require a national brain scan someday, but I can tell you down here at street level 35 years after “Lou Grant” went off the air, nothing much has changed, except the means of delivery.
It’s still who, what, when, where, why and how. Still a lot of shoe leather, phone calls and knocking on doors looking for answers. Still dedicated reporters and editors making sure the facts are buttoned up tight before the paper goes to press and online.
No bloggers with an agenda, TV pundits, or rookie presidents accusing the media of lying and being dishonest is going to change that. Those alternative facts they’re throwing around are $3 bills.
We’re like the old guy I wrote about arguing with his daughter about free cheese when the government was offering it to low-income seniors and families under the Temporary Emergency Food Assistance Program in the ’80s. It came in big blocks. All you had to do was go pick it up.
The old man saw it as welfare, and, damn if he was going to accept welfare at this stage of his life. Take it, Dad, his daughter begged. It’s free. No, he said, stubbornly. That just wouldn’t be me.
Well, that just wouldn’t be us, either. We’re the old man — too damn stubborn and set in our ways to allow lies and dishonesty kick the First Amendment in the teeth.
We’re still the same old “Lou Grant” you watched on Tuesday nights at 10 p.m. 35 years ago on CBS.
Still guarding the henhouse for you. Don’t buy any of those $3 bills.
Dennis McCarthy’s column runs on Friday. He can be reached at dmccarthynews@gmail.com.
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