Working at The Tablet Imprinted an Indelible Mark

By James T. Morgan

DURING A 1971 WORKSHOP with parish leaders, Tablet staffers included, from left, James Morgan, author of the accompanying piece; Frank Hall, Robert Claybrooks, Arthur McKenna, and Geoffrey Goodnow.

August, 1970. It seems like only yesterday that The Tablet opened its doors to the likes of me. Vatican II was five years old and a new era in the Church had begun. The editorial leadership of Patrick F. Scanlan gave way to the next generation’s leader, Don Zirkel. Things would change at a rapid pace, and the editorial staff would have to keep up with the events making headlines within and outside the precincts of the Diocese of Brooklyn.

Bishop Francis J. Mugavero led the diocese during these heady days of “opening new windows” and “reading the signs of the times.” The transitions would not always be smooth. It took a strong but pastorally sensitive man like Bishop Mugavero to avoid the pitfalls of too much enthusiasm for change for change’s sake on the one hand and, on the other hand, total opposition to any kind of change as a betrayal of time-honored traditions.

The Tablet’s mandate was to report as fairly as possible the pros and cons of the various transformations in liturgy, Scripture, and theology and what effects these had on the people of the diocese.

The imposing structure of One Hanson Pl. (the tall building with the clock on top) in Downtown Brooklyn was the home of the paper. Walking into the lobby, one got the sense of entering a sort of ornate vestibule usually envisioned with a cathedral.

But that illusion soon disappeared as one winded his way to The Tablet’s offices. The editorial department was on the 21st floor and advertising was two floors below. Both departments worked together to put the paper out.

Chester “Chet” Beatty was at the helm in sales/advertising. He was a great gentleman to work with and an even kinder person to know. Little did I know at the time that his wife, Loretta, was an integral part of the editorial scene upstairs. She had been Pat Scanlan’s “right hand” and her fierce loyalty to his legacy did not prevent her from standing by the new administration of the paper. First and foremost in her professional and personal life was the reputation and integrity of The Tablet. Everything else took its place in the hierarchy of priorities in her work.

For someone still wet behind the ears, the newsroom at the paper seemed like a letdown. It wasn’t at all like the movies’ version of a bustling daily. There were no separating cubicles, but individual turf was clearly marked by seniority or just plain squatter’s rights. What The Tablet had were characters inside and outside its quarters.

The veterans like Jim Greene and Virginia, the quintessential handmaiden, seemed to have been there forever. Newcomers like Ed Wilkinson and me stuck out like rookies on a famous Dodgers or Yankees ball club. As the new kids on the blocks, we had to learn the ropes in doing and making errors.

My editorial skill was zilch and I suppose Ed was in the same boat. But Zirkel’s red pen and Greene’s watchful eye moved us along in the job. Being a “foreigner” from another borough, I didn’t fare well trying to find Rockaway and got lost on one of my assignments. Nevertheless, the paper made its weekly deadline which inevitably meant an earlier morning hike to Albany to supervise the press run and put the paper “to bed” in newspaper lingo.

Through the ups and downs, we grew closer in camaraderie. Those who came in and out of the offices – from Msgr. James Asip to Msgr. Howie Basler to Sister Camille D’Arienzo – were the who’s who of the Brooklyn Diocese.

It would take a litany of Holy Week proportions to repeat here every epiphany that graced the place at that time. One character of note was a photographer, Herb Newlin, counterpart to Chris Sheridan at the other New York diocesan paper.

Herb, and another shutterbug, Jay Sharp, introduced Ed and me to the mysteries of the shutter and F-stops. Most often we took lots of photos and seldom came up with one suitable to lead off the companion story or grace the front page of the newspaper. Thankfully, we could count on John McAlinden’s airbrush or a piece of his superb artwork when needed, especially his mosaic of names displayed on the cover of the Christmas edition.

Is this a little piece of things remembered past? Not really, for the ink of the paper still runs in my veins. Although my tenure was very brief, I thank my colleagues at The Tablet for teaching me the ABC’s of editing and writing. Whether it was trying to reach the heights in academia or to become a good (no superlative were ever used in editorial circles) editor at another publishing firm, The Tablet experience, which seems to have happened only yesterday, has lasted a lifetime in my case.

For that indelible character and its degree of difference, I can only salute the 100-year-old Catholic organ and wish it many more years of press time.