THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, August 20, 1995 TAG: 9508180022
SECTION: COMMENTARY PAGE: J5 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: LYNN FEIGENBAUM
LENGTH: Medium: 80 lines
Felix bannered our front pages most days this week. But only last Sunday, the menacing storm was a mere A5 headline as it inched toward Bermuda.
That day, a different ``storm'' was bannering the front page: ``Faulkner joins Citadel's ranks.''
A couple of readers didn't think that a woman storming the all-male bastion in South Carolina warranted such attention.
``It would have been news, and worth the lead headline, if she had NOT gone to the school,'' said retiree Julian Granger, who began a long journalism career at the former Ledger-Dispatch.
``There had been so much buildup,'' added Granger, ``the fact that she entered the school was not a big thing.''
Well, you could argue that it's an important story in a military community - particularly one near another all-male bastion, the Virginia Military Institute. But readers know their minds.
``Shannon Faulkner is an old story,'' said a woman who didn't leave her name. ``Give me the stuff I need to know like the fact that a hurricane may be upon us in 3 days so that I can start planning my needs and wants.''
Another anonymous caller also welcomed Felix coverage but for quite a different reason.
``One good thing about this hurricane - it gives us a break in the news from more and more stuff about World War II. God, we're getting sick of it. .
A shame I can't ask Mr. Anonymous what he thinks today about Felix coverage. Would he feel the same way? Probably.
The news doesn't always leave us choices. Bosnia, the O.J. Simpson trial, World War II anniversaries - these stories tend to pile up or hang on. We can't just shrug them off because we're ``sick of them'' but we can, and often do, save big headlines for big developments.
Storm coverage is tricky because it's easy to trumpet, only to have the storm blow out to sea - or stall for days on end, like the fickle Felix. That leaves readers cynical and ho-hum when a storm really poses a threat. But obviously the newspaper has to take it seriously.
As for the WWII stories, even if this weren't a military area, the war was a landmark in our lives. Even journalists who yawn at anniversary stories were fascinated by the experiences shared by readers for last week's special section.
Another recent front-page critic was a vacationing Sandbridge e-mailer. He found it surprising that there were no news stories ``in the usual sense'' on the previous Sunday front page.
That day, Aug. 6, our A1 had, as he summarized it: 1) a report of a poll; 2) a diary of a murderer; and 3) part of a series on building the atom bomb.
``Surely,'' he wrote, ``there must have been some news event here or elsewhere in the world worth bringing to the readers' attention on the front page that Sunday morning.''
``Mr. Sandbridge'' also disliked the banner headline that day, ``Folks say Va. government doing OK.'' Too folksy for his taste, too USA Today-ish.
``I'm not suggesting you ape the New York Times,'' he wrote, ``but with more headlines like that, you will lose your readers' respect, and contribute to a general `dumbing-down' of public discourse.''
That page wasn't newsy enough for my taste, either. I wasn't bothered by the folksy headline; it just wasn't the strongest banner material.
Can I offer a better alternative? Probably not. Nor could reader Granger for last Sunday's front page.
Most of the time, news takes a day off on Saturdays and page-one editors must be creative. The message I'm hearing from readers, though, is to funnel that creativity toward hard news.
Choosing a lead story is a tricky business, somewhere between a gamble and an educated guess. Felix gave us some easy choices this week.
INFOSTORM! One reader complained Wednesday that he couldn't reach INFOLINE for an update on Hurricane Felix.
If it's any comfort, 45,000 other callers did get through - a new record for the newspaper's audio-text service. That's 1,800 calls every hour on its 64 phone lines.
Not bad. Most Wednesdays average 19,000 calls.
by CNB