Unforgettable folks #2, Bob Corbett

Among many newspaper co-workers with a major effect on a certain cub reporter was a top-notch journalist named Bob Corbett.

His full name was Robert M. Corbett, but all who associated with him used “Bob.” The importance of his positive influence cannot be understated. He was a quiet man with a wry sense of humor, and his advice was meant to be in the best interest of journalism and the person receiving constructive criticism.

As one of the high-ranking newsroom personnel at a major Southern California daily newspaper, he was one of the best. My first contact with him was working the nightside shift from 2 to 10:30. He was not shy about offering tips, as when after a couple of shifts he advised me that “the first million words you write won’t be worth a xxxx.” He then added, “But it appears that you’ll do well.”

Under a standing rule for all reporters, the lede to any news story or feature should not exceed more than 20 words. The shorter the better with enough to pique a reader into reading the whole story was the order of the day: every day. Bob subscribed to that philosophy and one (me) eventually learned the technique.

One evening during a break he invited me to step across the street from the newspaper building to “The Press Room,” a popular site. He ordered vodka martinis for us and asked if I’d like to shoot pool. As a 19-year-old cub, I advised that I didn’t know the game. And after my first sip of the drink, it was obvious that it was not to my taste literally. Bob eyed me and stated, “Well, now I’m not sure what kind of a reporter you’ll be since you don’t drink or play pool.” It was a tongue-in-cheek comment, and in my youthful naivete it took a bit to “get it” until I saw his sly smile.

Working as the night city editor, Bob drank plenty of coffee, as did the rest of us who made our way to a nearby coffee machine and put in our 10 cents per cup. He also smoked quite a few cigarettes during each shift, commonplace in those days. At least in our newsroom.
He cared about his night crew. Besides offering editing advice he’d go out of his way to help any reporter get to the gist of a story without being overbearing. He also was a pro at editing unnecessary verbiage.

One night we were notified of a double homicide at a beach home some 30 miles away. Bob assigned me the story, which was a bit frightening for a guy without much experience. I found the location, spoke to neighbors and hung around for many hours until law enforcement officers allowed me in to the scene. I was the only reporter still around. When I entered the newsroom it was after 1 a.m. Bob was still at his desk, drinking coffee and smoking. He wanted to make sure I could deal with the story and offer help. That was how much he cared about all of us.

In his early days as a newsman Bob related some interesting times, as when he was a photographer and went to a scene with a reporter. A young child was missing in a forest. Hope to locate him was running out, but a search-and-rescue team found the boy. When he was returned to his family, the members were standing about and the mom hugged her offspring. The reporter, seeing that there wasn’t much of a photo the way it stood, suggested that wouldn’t it be nice if everyone knelt and offered a prayer of thanksgiving. Bob got a fine photo that otherwise would have been mundane.

He also had other stories about how keeping a clear head simultaneously with a “newspaper eye” resulted in many good pieces. Bob worked for the daily newspaper mentioned earlier for 29 years. Besides serving as night CE, he worked as a rewrite editor, a copy editor and a science/medical writer. He was well read, and I remember him fondly even now.

He died of cancer, but not before writing a series of articles about the discovery, the treatment and dealing with the situation. He was a newshawk to the end.