A Comic Parable of Journalism
There were four men who lived in Canton who died on the same day. One man died when the Klan tossed a fiery cross up against his house. One man, the state executed for assaulting and murdering his neighbor’s young daughter. One man died fighting a gator that was stealing his barbecued chicken. The last man died of cancer. One morning, a week after they all died, the last man’s widow went to the office of the local paper and demanded to see the editor. He offered his condolences.
“To hell with your sympathy!”
“What do you mean, widow?”
“I mean, why in the hell didn’t you run an obituary for my husband?”
“Well, three other men died that day. We didn’t have room on the page for all of them.”
“My husband lived here his whole life. He went to church every Sunday. He worked at the same job for forty years and never missed a day of work. He raised three fine children and sent them off to college. He never turned down a friend in need. He willed half of his fortune to charity before he died. You couldn’t have bumped one of those other three to remember him?”
“Darlin’ widow,” says the editor, “everyone already remembers your husband, but an idiot, a martyr, and a criminal – well, them’s news!”
“To hell with your sympathy!”
“What do you mean, widow?”
“I mean, why in the hell didn’t you run an obituary for my husband?”
“Well, three other men died that day. We didn’t have room on the page for all of them.”
“My husband lived here his whole life. He went to church every Sunday. He worked at the same job for forty years and never missed a day of work. He raised three fine children and sent them off to college. He never turned down a friend in need. He willed half of his fortune to charity before he died. You couldn’t have bumped one of those other three to remember him?”
“Darlin’ widow,” says the editor, “everyone already remembers your husband, but an idiot, a martyr, and a criminal – well, them’s news!”
posted by Dr. Chuck | 11:14 PM
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