More Than A Newspaper: Anniversary Celebration Brings Flood Of Memories

Commentary
By Jim Hines

Recently, many of us gathered to celebrate the 100th anniversary of The Louisville Cardinal. Seeing old friends opened memory’s door, and the flood ensued.

There were familiar faces, stories that hadn’t been told in decades and, inevitably, a few recollections that differed depending on who was doing the telling. Time has a way of polishing some memories and conveniently erasing others. But what struck me most was how easily the years fell away. For a little while, we weren’t as old anymore. We were college students again, working together to put out a newspaper.

And, at least in my case, trying to figure out what we wanted to do with our lives.

I suspect most of us arrived at college with some vague notion of where we were headed. Some had a plan. Others had a pretty good idea. And then there were those of us who were simply trying to find our place in the world.

I fell squarely into that last category.

When I arrived at the University of Louisville in 1984, I had interests, certainly, but no grand career plan. Like a lot of freshmen, I was searching for something without really knowing what that something was.

And then, somehow, I found my way to The Cardinal.

Actually, it’s not somehow. I was guided. Pushed. Led.

William Thompson, who taught some of us newswriting, pushed me. I wish I could tell you there was some defining moment when I knew I’d found my calling. Some “aha” moment. A moment of clarity.

But there wasn’t. At least not that I remember.

Instead, it happened gradually, almost without my noticing. Somewhere between the deadlines, the friendships and the chaos of putting out a newspaper, I began to find my way. I just didn’t know it at the time.

Back then, The Cardinal occupied the entire third floor of the old Student Center. It was a remarkable amount of space for a student newspaper, and to those of us who worked there, it became something of a second home.

There were desks, typewriters, actual desktop telephones, old IBM computers, stacks of paper, the inevitable clutter and an assortment of personalities who somehow managed to come together to produce a newspaper.

It wasn’t always pretty. But it was ours.

We were young, opinionated and occasionally convinced we knew considerably more than we actually did. We argued about stories, headlines, photographs and things that probably seemed terribly important at the time. We made mistakes. We missed things. And every so often, we got something exactly right.

Looking back, I think one of the most valuable things The Cardinal gave us was the freedom to fail.

There weren’t many places where a college student could make real decisions, deal with real consequences and then come back the next day to try again. At The Cardinal, that was pretty much the job description.

And somewhere along the way, without quite realizing it, I began to grow up.

I learned how to write a bit, certainly. But I also learned how to listen, how to work with people whose opinions differed from mine, how to meet deadlines and how to take responsibility when things went wrong. I learned that having a good idea wasn’t nearly as important as being able to execute it.

Perhaps most importantly, I began to understand that I could make a living doing something I genuinely enjoyed.

The Cardinal opened a door at The Courier-Journal, where I honed my skills and discovered opportunities in newspaper operations and technology. Those experiences eventually led to a career that took me to Dow Jones, GateHouse Media, Naviga and BLOX Digital, among others.

Along the way, I worked with some extraordinary people, participated in projects I never could have imagined as a college student and, most importantly, met the woman who would become my wife.

It’s a remarkable chain of events when you stop to think about it.

And it all traces back to that third floor of the Student Center.

That brings me back to the centennial celebration and the friends who helped open memory’s door.

As we traded stories, I was reminded that The Cardinal wasn’t simply a place where we learned to produce a newspaper. It was a place where we learned about ourselves. We developed friendships, discovered talents we didn’t know we possessed and began finding our way into the world.

And now, we have an opportunity to make sure another generation gets that same chance.

A fundraising campaign is underway to help sustain The Louisville Cardinal and provide today’s student journalists with the opportunities we enjoyed. I hope my fellow Cardinal alumni will consider contributing by going to Give.Louisville.Edu/TheCardinal or using the QR code. It’s a chance to give something back to an institution that gave so much to us, often in ways we didn’t fully appreciate until years later.

Years ago, a wise professor told me, “You’ll always need to know how to write.”

He was right.

Writing has served me throughout my career, helping me explain complicated ideas, communicate difficult decisions and occasionally persuade people to see things a little differently.

But what I learned at The Cardinal went well beyond putting words on paper.

I sometimes wonder what would have happened had I never wandered into those offices. Would I have found another path? Probably. Would it have been as rewarding? I have no idea.

What I do know is that a somewhat lost college student found a place where he belonged and opportunities he never imagined existed.

And, more than four decades later, I’m still grateful.

For the friendships. For the lessons. For the opportunities.

And for that wonderful, chaotic newspaper on the third floor.


Photo: The Louisville Cardinal’s 100th Anniversary Celebration Oct. 23 included a panel discussion featuring Jim Hines (left), Deborah Yetter and Tate Luckey. Current Cardinal staffers Vinny Porco (Editor-in-Chief) and Roxy Osborne (News Editor) are by the podium.

Photo By: Ralph Merkel, Cardinal Adviser, 2013-present.