“The LA Times is one of the worst things that ever happened
to this city, and to journalism.” Words to that effect, many of them unprintable here, flowed unchecked
from the mouth of Ron Kaye.
It was the spring of 1995 and I was sitting in Ron’s office
at the LA Daily News in Woodland Hills, where he was managing editor. I was
there looking for a job, having just been canned by the Times. Or, more
precisely, not asked to stay at the end of a three-year run in the Ventura
County bureau that started with an internship, segued into a full-time
“freelancing” gig and ended with a two-year temporary staff job. I needed more
“seasoning,” I was informed by the editor of the edition, who later scolded me
for acting “too cheerful” upon learning the news.
Of course I was disappointed to have been let go– it was the
Los Angeles Times, after all. But disappointment was tempered by giddy relief.
I had witnessed the slow decay of bureau staff writers as they waited,
endlessly, for the magical anointing that would whisk them “downtown,” meanwhile
indentured to a despotic managing editor who’d reportedly been exiled to the ‘burbs
for bad behavior and who routinely inflicted his own misery on his minions,
landing at least one of my colleagues in therapy and causing the rest of us needless
hours of anguish. Once shown the door I was happy to go.
Sitting in Ron Kaye’s office, I heard for the first time
what I came to consider his ten-minute stump speech on the arrogance of the
Times, its self-aggrandizement, its laziness. He abhorred all these things
about it, stood in opposition to them. Those were pre-blogging, pre-Internet,
pre-everybody’s-got-an-opinion-worth-hearing days. I’d never heard anyone speak
with such blanket disregard for the Times, and it was great, forbidden fun.
Ron was steeped in the humor of it all. He sat at his desk, growling
behind sunglasses, his dark, grey-tinged hair spinning off at wild angles. On
the wall behind him were a series of framed photographs of chimpanzees aping See
No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil. I later learned that the glasses were an
eye ailment palliative, but no explanation was offered on that day and the
effect was dramatic and rather grand. They added to his mystique, his irreverent
cool guy-ness.
At the end of his rant, which included a takedown of most of
the Times’ front-page writers, with a particular emphasis on the paper’s
“piss-poor” coverage of the LAPD, Ron abruptly stopped.
“So, what do you say
to that?” he demanded, folding his arms and regarding me with the disdain I clearly
deserved as one of the throng of Times no-goodniks.
In those days the paper media were at war for domination of Southern
California. Ventura County
was viewed as a major source of ad revenue, prompting a geyser of resources. In
addition to the local newspaper, three outsiders had bureaus in Simi
Valley, a town with a population smaller than Pasadena’s.
I had been the Times’ Simi Valley
reporter. The Daily News had someone there too.
“Well,” I said, “if you read the Times’ Simi
Valley coverage you would know that I kicked butt on
the Daily News on a regular basis.”
Ron laughed. “Touche,” he said. “We need to work on our
coverage out there.”
He offered me a job, which I happily accepted. My year at the Daily News was, by and large, a great
experience, balm for my time at the Times, due in no small part to
Ron. He was often gruff but never mean. He was loyal to his reporters,
respectful but not fawning. He would stroll through the newsroom at any hour of
the day, belting out “My Way,” or “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction”
and peering over reporters’ shoulders, reading ledes out loud and offering ad
hoc critiques. He was collegial in the truest sense of the word, well read and
intellectually curious, ready to discuss philosophy, faith, politics, cooking,
sports, the stock market or anything else that came up. When my husband and I moved to Silver
Lake and threw a housewarming
party, we invited the entire Daily News staff, including Ron. He not only
showed up but stayed late, as comfortable outside of the newsroom as he was in
it.
For me, to be a big fish in a small pond was a wonderful
thing. At the Times an underling like me would be lucky to get a tag line on a
big story as part of the “swarm” -- the inevitable overstaffing the Times marshaled
for big news events, as much to intimidate the competition as to provide
thorough coverage. I was grateful to be offered the occasional fence-painting
privilege of working the weekend night shift downtown, which consisted of
monitoring the evening news shows and rewriting wire copy.
At the Daily News, scrappy was the rule of the day. The paper
did not begin to have the staff to swarm anything. One story, one reporter
meant I was given free rein. I profiled Tom Hayden, Henry Waxman and Sister
Helen Prejean. I covered Colin Powell and Jesse Jackson, as well as the Chris
Darden meltdown after the OJ verdict, sitting next to Maria Shriver, then
working for NBC, who draped her Armani suit jacket over the back of her chair,
next to my Ross Dress for Less cardigan.
If the Los Angeles Times of that era was classical music,
with all its constricting hoity-toityness, and the LA Weekly the wildly
veering, by turns brilliant and self-destructive incarnation of punk rock, Ron
Kaye’s Daily News was rock and roll – direct, soulful and pragmatic.
After being treated like a second-class citizen at the
Times, it was both thrilling and absurd to be at a paper that, through Ron
Kaye, transformed its second-class citizen-ness into its raison d’etre. My tenure at the Daily News came at the
beginning of the secession dance, when the paper first began pushing the idea
of the Valley breaking off from the rest of LA, and I wrote the first
major piece on it, a sort of statistical tease of just what this new
city might be like. Sometimes I wasn’t sure how
seriously to take it all. Could this be for real, this quest for separateness?
Did anyone really think it would be good for the Valley to be on its own?
The fundamental conservatism of the community that supported
the Daily News, if not the paper itself, left me feeling that it wasn’t simply a
desire to be heard that lay at the root of the secession drive, but a wish to
sever itself from the urban complexities that defined Los
Angeles. The paper in those days was very much a good old
boys operation. All the top editors, all the columnists, all the
decision-makers and agenda-setters, were white and male.
One upside of the Daily News’ “don’t take any of this too
seriously” mentality meant that everyone went home by 6, which was also a major
downside. Stories that were too long were simply lopped off, sometimes mid-sentence.
The penny pinching endemic to paper news operations today was rampant at the Daily News even
then. Staffers were made to pay for their parking --on the company lot. Basic
supplies such as pens and notebooks were locked up and doled out one at a time.
If ever you wished to improve your writing and reporting by attending a
conference, you paid your own way. Near the end of my year at the Daily News I
was assigned to cover the 1996 Republican Presidential Convention in San
Diego. I was crendentialed and ready to go when the
powers that be decided the trip was too expensive -- even after I offered to
spring for gas and stay with friends.
I left for the LA Weekly soon after. Ron was more than a
little put out. “That rag! What a waste of talent!” he rumbled, then added:
“Come back any time.”
As much as the Daily News needed the LA Times in those days,
as much as its oppositional existence depended on it, the Times needed the
Daily News even more. Though the Daily News had nothing near the Times’ staff
and resources, it broke stories and poked holes in the Times’ reporting often
enough to inject at least a modicum of humility into the Times’ bloated sense
of self-worth.
Ron Kaye’s departure from the Daily News on Friday, coming,
according to news accounts, amidst his ongoing battle to salvage staff and
resources, could not have happened at a worse moment for the Daily News, the
city and for the news business as a whole.
In this era of Zellian staff slashing and kowtowing to the
innovation panacea (it’s a means, not an end, guys) the Daily News needs Ron
Kaye, and Los Angeles needs the Daily News—Ron Kaye’s Daily News --more than
ever. Fearless, on the ground reporting in communities that are otherwise
ignored. Coverage of LA that does not stand on ceremony. Basic human decency
and good editing instincts. Come back, Ron Kaye.
It's extremely cool to read an 'inside' view of today's volatile, print, news media. It will never be what it was, in my opinion. I always wanted to be a journalist, but chose, instead, to be a hoodlum. That was my own choice, and a bad one.
American journalists are the second luckiest people in the world.
Second to baseball players. With George W Bush as our president, it has to be a feast for the 'paper people'. He is such a lovable tyrant!
You have had a lucky run to have been involved with one of the great papers. Let's face it, the LA Times is one of the super ducks!
Lucky you, and thanks for the incredible insight.
Joe