It's a Yak's Life   

Furry Free Press mascot encourages kids to read.

YAKS CAN BE FOUND grazing on Tibetan plateaus. Wandering around Nepal. Carrying packs in China. And dancing in Detroit.
Of course, the Michigan species is rather unique: a 7-foot-tall creature that walks on two feet, frequents the Olympics and encourages children to read. OK, so it's only a person in a yak costume, not a real yak. But, he's the Yak. Capital "Y." And the kids love him.
The big furry guy is the mascot for the Detroit Free Press' Yak's Corner, a weekly eight-page tabloid and daily column geared toward kids, mainly grades three through five. The stand-alone that's published each Thursday includes news and feature stories, games, recipes, crafts and kids' artwork. A one-page version of the feature is distributed to about 50 newspapers through Tribune Media Services and Knight Ridder.
Cathy Collison, editor of the section, came up with the Yak idea about eight years ago, along with Wayne Kamidoi, now an art director at the New York Times. The first Yak's Corner issue came out in September 1994. Marty Westman, art director for Yak's Corner, designed the costume for the mascot, and he often wears it. You could say, he's the man inside the Yak.
"I felt really hot," says Westman of the first time he wore the costume. "It's not as glamorous as it sounds."
It's a heavy, awkward, smelly, vision-restrictive Yak. You see out of the mouth, which means you basically see your shoes, Westman says. (Doesn't he mean hooves?)
Anyway, the bad part of the job is nothing compared with the good part. The Yak visits schools and events, in Michigan and around the country, and has been to Mexico and the Olympics in Australia and Japan. When the Yak makes an entrance, the crowd goes wild. "It's like the Beatles coming to America," Westman says. "Kids are screaming and hyperventilating."
The Yak's brown hair, in case you were wondering, is real yak hair, says Westman. He mostly wears the costume when the Yak travels or for photo shoots--such as Yak in rubber boots with umbrella for a spring issue, or Yak in Uncle Sam hat waving American flags. For other local events, four or five people, including college students, take turns donning the Yak suit.
Which, by the way, takes about 10 minutes. You get in, plug in a battery, and two fans inflate the thing like a balloon. While in New York, Westman says he carried the Yak costume up to the top of the Empire State Building in a large hockey goalie bag. (Security didn't flinch.) And he suited up at the top.
Reporting with the Yak isn't all fun and games. He's a great icebreaker, but at times, "it's like having an albatross around your neck," says Patricia Chargot, staff writer for Yak's Corner, who was an investigative reporter prior to writing for kids. You can't let the big lug just wander off on his own. You "have to protect the Yak from the enthusiastic kids who want to jump him." Chargot jokes, "Would you want Mickey Mouse following you around on assignment?"
There once was a rumor floating around the Free Press newsroom that Publisher Heath Meriwether was the Yak, but that was quashed. Says Dave Robinson, deputy managing editor/sports and operations: "We have seen Heath and the Yak at the same time."