A hell-raising editor
By
Hanah Cho
After George Dohrmann broke the story of academic dishonesty in the University of Minnesota's basketball program in 1999, a 3-foot "hell-raiser" trophy graced his desk at the St. Paul Pioneer Press for months.
The "ugliest, God-awful trophy," as former Sports Editor Emilio Garcia-Ruiz describes it, was part of then-Editor Walker Lundy's way of inspiring his reporters and editors to pursue hard-hitting stories.
"It was passed around in the newsroom to the reporter who raised hell," says Garcia-Ruiz, now a sports editor at the Washington Post. "You kept it on the desk until someone else took it away from you."
Lundy, 59, who spent nearly 11 years at the Pioneer Press, now faces the challenge of inspiring the staff of another Knight Ridder paper--the Philadelphia Inquirer. On November 28 he took over as the Inquirer's editor, succeeding Robert J. Rosenthal, who resigned earlier in the month (see Bylines, December).
It's a daunting task. The Inquirer is struggling to stem nagging circulation losses in a complex, highly competitive market with a staff that has shed about 100 editorial employees in two rounds of buyouts and through attrition. And Lundy follows a highly popular editor with ties to the Inquirer's glory years of Pulitzer dominance, one whose departure saddened many at the paper.
But the new editor got off to a good start, impressing Inquirer staffers in meetings just after Rosenthal's departure. And his embrace of investigative reporting should be an asset at a paper that has long excelled at that craft.
Current and former Pioneer Press staffers describe Lundy--who has held editing positions at the Detroit Free Press, Charlotte Observer, Tallahassee Democrat, Fort Worth Star-Telegram and the now-defunct Arkansas Gazette – as a straight shooter. "Not everyone liked what he had to say, but I always felt he told the truth and was as candid as he could be," says Blake Morrison, a national reporter for USA Today who spent six years at the St. Paul paper. "I mean that in terms of the way he ran the paper and what he expected us to do."
Garcia-Ruiz says Lundy trusted him to make tough calls. "The thing he emphasized was to take chances and make decisions on your own," he says.
During the investigation of the Minnesota basketball program (see "Body Slam," May 1999), Lundy repeatedly stressed that stories needed to meet high standards and have multiple sources, Garcia-Ruiz says. And when the paper encountered staunch criticism for publishing its first story the day before Minnesota's third-round game in the NCAA Tournament, Lundy "bore the brunt of it and kept it from us and the writer," Garcia-Ruiz says. "That was huge, because we could concentrate on the job."
Just after the story broke and the paper faced stiff competition from its larger rival, Minneapolis' Star Tribune, Lundy added top talent from other departments to the coverage, says Dohrmann, now a staff writer at Sports Illustrated. The Pioneer Press won a Pulitzer Prize for its reporting.
Tim McGuire, editor of the Star Tribune, has known Lundy since 1977, when he was at the Ledger in Lakeland, Florida, and Lundy was at the Tallahassee Democrat. McGuire calls Lundy a "quality journalist" and a "tough competitor" who has done solid things with the Pioneer Press.
Still, McGuire, the president of the American Society of Newspaper Editors, has been known to refer to Lundy as "that asshole across the river." "I am sometimes reckless with my language," McGuire says. "It wasn't personal. It is not anything like an ongoing vendetta. He's certainly done things that angered me, and I suspect the opposite is true."
Lundy has had rough patches as editor, especially in his dealings with the Newspaper Guild. The first issue they grappled over after Lundy arrived at the Pioneer Press in 1990 was the newspaper's ethics policy, says Chuck Laszewski, a longtime Guild member and 21-year newsroom veteran. Although contracts included a section with a broad ethics clause, Lundy wanted detailed guidelines, which the union opposed. "Ultimately, he failed," says Laszewski, an investigative reporter. "We came to an impasse, and it went nowhere." (The dispute was settled two years ago.)
Laszewski says the union and Lundy eventually developed a good working relationship. Earlier this year, when Knight Ridder began implementing cuts throughout the chain, the Pioneer Press was ticketed to lose 23 newsroom staffers. But, Laszewski says, Lundy lobbied hard, and the newsroom ended up losing eight.
"I think he's certainly a company man as far as he likes Knight Ridder and believes in Knight Ridder and has had successes with Knight Ridder," Laszewski says. "But...the fact that he was willing to fight to preserve as many newsroom resources as possible [shows] he's willing to pick his fights and go to the mat if necessary."
Lundy was more than willing to go to the mat with wrestler-turned-Minnesota Gov. Jesse Ventura, who has waged a personal crusade against the Twin Cities' news media (see Free Press, December). Lundy was quick to return the governor's fire, when he wasn't poking fun at him.
While Lundy can be aggressive, he can also be a supportive manager. Dohrmann recalls walking into Lundy's office, filled with Elvis paraphernalia, for his job interview and being immediately put at ease. "He has a self-deprecating humor," Dohrmann says. "He'll cut himself down a little bit and make you feel easy."
Asked what kind of stories excite him, Lundy cites "everything from hell-raising stories to useful stories that readers can benefit from to explanatory journalism." And, he adds, "I especially love surprising stories. Somebody once upon a time defined news as the same thing happening over and over to different people, and sometimes reading any newspaper you get that impression. So I like stories that make people say, 'I never heard of that.' " ###
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