I’ve been writing columns 25 years for the BND. It’s been more fun than I ever imagined
The phone call surprised me, 25 summers ago.
Maureen Houston, editor of the Belleville News Democrat’s Sunday Magazine, asked if I was interested in writing a column.
I told Maureen that I’d think about it. I needed to talk to my family and get permission from work. And I needed to think about it myself.
Did I want to get back into newspapers on a freelance basis? It had been more than a decade since I wrote for a newspaper. We had two young, busy kids. I had just started a new job. A quiet anonymous life in Belleville.
And what if my columns weren’t very good?
I got the OK from everyone, including myself, and called Maureen back.
“I’ll give it a shot, but one condition,” I said seriously. “If my columns suck, let me know. I will fade away. No bad feelings.”
“Deal,” Maureen said.
The first column in June 1997 was about my son, Corey. He was 5 years old. Tiger Woods and his dad, Earl, were emerging onto the pro golf scene. Earl Woods had invested countless resources in his young son’s golf career. I was sitting in my front yard in Belleville, watching my toddler son try to hit Whiffle golf balls over the roof of our home.
“Watch the big windows,” was my big tip.
The circle of life: Earlier this year, I wrote about the birth of my grandson, Reed, the son of Corey, that toddler hitting Whiffle golf balls 25 summers ago.
My next column was about membership in the Chub Club. I am a fan of athletes who are a little rounder and have some bounce in their run. That summer of 1997, the Cardinals signed pitcher Fernando Valenzuela, a charter member of the Chub Club. Never, ever underestimate the chubby guy, I wrote.
My next column was about attending my 20th year high school class reunion. Common line at the reunion: “I didn’t know in high school that you could read much less write ...” Funny guys, those high school buddies.
There have been more than a few columns about my old grade school, St. Philip’s Catholic Grade School in East St. Louis. All the characters of my youth. Close my eyes and remember. A happy place.
I’ve written about my coaches and teachers. George Martz, Glenn Schott, Barney Elser and Lou Wappel. Teachers like Elaine Mathews, Dorothy Wigginton and Professor Bill Ward at SIUE. They were positive and encouraged me.
Professor Ward said often, “You’ll never make it, Mackin. Don’t have what it takes.”
He helped me find it.
Other column topics near and dear
I wrote about the late R.J. Krause, youth coach in East St. Louis. A column I never wrote: He called me early one morning in July and asked me to step out on my home’s front porch. There was R.J. in his van, in the street, with a half dozen of his youth all-stars with him. They sang “Happy Birthday” to me, then “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”
I’ve written about my parents, Bud and Betty Mackin. I miss them. I wrote a tribute column about my Aunt Marie Tockstein after she died in 2016. I’m glad I did.
A memorable moment was when my daughter, Cara, worked secretly with Maureen Houston and Pat Kuhl, editors, and wrote a surprise “Father’s Day” column to me. That was special.
There has never been a plan, strategy or schedule. I write columns one at a time, usually a day before deadline, for 25 years now.
More reflection on columns
A lot has changed since 1997. The Sunday Magazine was retired. The newsroom has shrunk. There is competition for the public’s mind space with cell phones, social media, news web sites and 24/7 TV news. Anything written with more than 120 words may be pushing attention span limits.
At some point, readers will be tired of reading these columns from this older, Irish Catholic guy who grew up in East St. Louis in the 1970s. Some may be there already. Maybe not, as long as there are old-school readers like myself. One column at a time, right?
Hopefully, one of my columns has made you think, laugh or even cry. Maybe brought back a good memory. It’s been more than fun than I ever imagined when Maureen Houston called me 25 summers ago. Thanks for reading.