One sunny Sunday morning a shiny black limousine pulled up to the curb. It had tinted glass so I couldn't see inside. There was one customer in the store, a slow woman named Mary who came by every day and hung around quite a bit. The back door of the limousine opened from the inside and a small, dapper man stepped out. It was William Loeb, the newspaper publisher. He was about 5’2” in height, maybe 5’3” at the most, and he was wearing a good suit with a white shirt and black bow tie, and shiny black shoes. He looked to be in his early seventies, with a chunky build, but spry. I was a young man at loose ends and this scene impressed me, so that I remember it after many years.1
If you do not live in New Hampshire, or were not around then, you may never have heard of him, although he was not originally from New Hampshire, and I think he might have actually lived in Massachusetts. He was a controversial figure locally and sometimes nationally for his right wing viewpoints and the way he expressed them in front page editorials of his newspaper, The Manchester Union Leader. It's motto was, and is, "There is nothing so powerful as the truth." He was also an enigmatic character. It seems that he may have fictionalized his past, even altered his official records, to the extent that nobody quite knows to this day who he was, and so people have read a lot into his background and character, filling in the blanks. Beyond a few simple biographical facts--including that he lived from 1905 to 1981, that his father had been President Theodore Roosevelt’s personal secretary--there is little agreement as to what is truth and what is fiction. 2
Loeb was a self-made man from a prominent family. Nevertheless he carried a chip on his shoulder and sometimes acted out his resentment in cruel ways. When Edmund Muskie was running for President, Loeb wrote something insulting about Muskie’s wife and Muskie rented a sound truck and spoke over a bullhorn, challenging Loeb outside of the Union Leader offices. Muskie cried, and that killed his presidential bid. Loeb also used his front page to attack the governer’s daughter, something to do with her smoking or advocating marijuana, and she suffered a nervous breakdown afterward.3
Loeb entered the store and I immediately felt his energy. He seemed to be observing everything, and filing away every detail in the back of his mind, and wary like nobody was going to sneak up on him. His eyes darted all over the place. He reminded me of a small bird. He had little wrinkles around his eyes, and the eyes seemed to sparkle, although I do not know if that is actually possible. He stepped to the counter and we made brief eye contact, like camera shutters. I had the strange feeling that we each knew something that not everyone knows and each knew the other knew, but what that particular knowledge might be is to this day not fully developed in my mind. He asked if I had a copy of yesterday’s newspaper in the back. He did not say what newspaper; he knew that I knew. 4
I went into the back room and found the newspaper. I watched him from the back room for a short while. He was walking around looking at everything as though he was going to buy the place. For some reason I suddenly thought that he might have a gun, and I speculated as to where on his person he might be carrying it.5
I returned with his newspaper. He didn't say much, but he was polite and genteel, and a curious character. He paid and left. 6
Charismatic people leave you feeling that you know them and they know you. Once or twice in my life I have let slip that I "know" some famous person, a movie actor, musician, or whatever, when in fact the guy only signed an autograph for me or something like that. You may have done the same thing. There is really not so much difference between the prominent and the obscure. The structure of authority and power that defines both seems arbitrary. I recognize the need, but I will never really believe any of it, despite (or maybe because of) the fact that I am too easily impressed by it. I don't know if you can be both sane and honest at the same time. 7
I am not saying that William Loeb was always a good guy. I don't know that we had read one another’s minds. I know that he was an intelligent, perceptive person, and, he gave me no reason to believe that he thought I wasn't. 8
After he left I said to Mary, “That was William Loeb.” She didn't understand. I told her that he was a famous publisher. She wasn't impressed. I have told this story numerous times over the years, with pretty much the same reaction.9
A year or so later I saw him interviewed on television; it might have been 60 Minutes. They asked him why he wrote such controversial editorials and attacked people personally. He said something to the effect that he was just having fun and didn't mean anything by it, and that some people took him too seriously because they took themselves too seriously. I think I know what he meant, and it fits my impression of him, although it cannot be justified or explained in a definitive way that leaves no loose end untied. It is maybe a joker instinct that wants to rattle any cage that is locked from the inside, but also wants to open any cage that is locked from the outside. It is like some crazy Robin Hood shooting bent arrows. It is perverse, like many things. It is both good and bad.
Author notes
This story is true in every detail.
A contest entry
- A New Anything by VariousSingularity.
500 points, ended November 23, 26 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 15 of 15
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It's New, That's for Sure!
I noticed that you earned the bronze trophy in "A New Anything." A well deserved trophy. I do believe this is the best of your stories that I have read so far. Even better than any of In a Cat's Eye.
I particularly liked the attention to detail. It reminded me of a Gary Alexander piece, a walk down memory lane that is more than words on paper. It is a living, breathing memory that still affects you today. This story conveys it very well.
I did spot a few errors, easily fixed. In paragraph 3, "governer's" should be "governor's." In paragraph 4, I found this sentence: "He seemed to be observing everything, and filing away every detail in the back of his mind, and wary like nobody was going to sneak up on him." The last part seemed to me to be awkwardly phrased. It feels like there's a word missing somewhere in that phrase. I know exactly what you're trying to say, but it can still be fixed.
That's it!
Good job.
Best of luck,
gocubsgo25
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Word for word, I consider this to be my best story. I rewrote it numerous times, torturing the words until I got them to say just what I wanted. I hope it's not overwritten.
Thanks for spotting the spelling error and the awkward phrasing. I'll fix it.
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Excellent story. I don't really have anything to critique, but I just wanted to say that I found this one line very profound...
"I don't know if you can be both sane and honest at the same time."
That's definitely something I'll carry with me for awhile.
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Thanks for reading and for your thoughtful and perceptive comment.
This little story, real short, has a lot of nonphysical stuff going on, that is all interconnected in a meaningful way, and every now and then somebody like you reads, appreciates, and comments, and suddenly I know why I write, that it's all worthwhile after all, and I start thinking about writing another story.
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This is a fantastically well written story.
I’ve heard about him, oddly enough. I think it was my ninth grade Social Studies teacher who told me about him causing the governor’s daughter to have a nervous breakdown. It’s very interesting to see how powerful words can be. Hell, if she had 18 more she’d be a Stones tune…
You wrote this well enough for the events to take hold of the reader, as if the line between reality and tale had been completely brushed away. I can imagine, after having read this, someone along the way will turn to a friend and say ‘have I told you about the time I met William Loeb?’
It was interesting to read in the beginning how exotic the encounter began and then see it turn into the mundane and back into the exotic and back again. It was also fun to read how you hint at the mundane being just a wink away from being the exotic. Well, perhaps I’ve simplified it too much, that’s just how I took it. I think you get my point.
I think I’ll ramble on now…
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I like what you say about "the mundane being just a wink away from the exotic." Loeb's persona, as he presented it, was partly truth and partly fiction, and I don't know if even he knew which was which. I really did meet him just the way the story says, and it's a totally true story, except that perhaps some of the thoughts of the narrator might actually have occurred to me later. It was a long time ago so I can't really know exactly what I was thinking at the time; but the physical actions and the feelings I had upon meeting him that way, it's all true.
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The story told was rich in description. I had felt as if I could see the environment in which the story was set with great clarity. It was easy for me to put myself in your place as if I had the encounter with Willy Loeb.
This is an very well written peice. -
I've been reading the comments below as well as your story/article. "Sow's ear?"
Here is one of my Bob's sayings. "You can never make a silk purse out of a sow's ear; but you can certainly make a very nice sow's ear."
It's what I aspire to: a very nice sow's ear.
Now to your interesting 'bon mot' concerning William Loeb. I believe you were very fortunate to meet this enigmatic man when he was plainly being himself - which would have been a rare occurrence, I assume.
You have created a gentle and beautiful piece with warmth and perception.
I agree with daftweejimmy. I think it may do excellently within an piece with more depth. I think it would enhance another article.
Just a query from the last paragraph, 'definite' would you mean 'definitive?'
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this.
Thank you.
Lis.
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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Yes, it should be "definitive." I changed it. Thanks for the read and comment. This piece took a lot of painstaking work, writing and rewriting until I got it the way I wanted.
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Good story
You took a moment that could of been like any other moment and read so much more into it. I thought you told the story well and pointed it in a direction others might not have seen.
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It is interesting how we perceive people from affair compared to how we see them in person. From afar, William Loeb had an almost intriguing persona. 'Up close and personal', he was merely an individual interacting with another - going about his everyday life with his own expectations and ideals.
A note on your style/grammer: in some parts you rely too much on the word crutches 'seems' and 'like' - you have enough talent to break beyond this with your descriptions and narrative.
Overall, an interesting and enagaging read.
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This really held my attention and I totally understood the message being conveyed. (For me that is saying a lot because I have fibro fog and the message can't always come through) I really liked your descriptions and the mental movie I could watch. I think you really hit the nail on the head about charismatic people especially those who have learned "the secret". They are higher level souls who give us opportunities to learn those deeper soul lessons that opens us to choices we make in our lives that propel us to higher levels also.
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I am always happy when somebody reads, understands, and comments on one of my stories. So your comment is appreciated. I am hosting a contest called "I'm Looking For A Good Story." Almost anything goes, and I will comment on all entries.
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Hmmmm......
This is where good stories spring from; an obscure yet paradoxically important incident can change a person and their outlook forever.
My problem here is that the story doesn't seem to go anywhere, and perhaps it isn't supposed to. But it is frustrating to read it and come to the end and ask "What happens from here?"
Could I suggest something? Why not incorporate this incident as a pivotal moment in a longer work. Especially, look at the philosophy of poking fun at those who take themselves too seriously. I warn you now, if you don't make use of this well written incident, then I will! How do you like that?
beginning: 3, language: 4, ending: 2, characters: 3.
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If there is anything in this sow's ear of a story that can inspire you to create a silk purse, I encourage you to go for it, and I'll be one of the first to read it. Not much actually happened. A guy walked in, bought a newspaper, and walked out. Almost nothing was said between them. It might work better, as you say, as part of a longer piece, with more characters to interact with one another.
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