Unpredictable twists, turns of a ‘pioneer’

By Ellen Goodman

(These remarks are taken from a eulogy offered by Ellen Goodman at Kay Fanning’s memorial service.)

When I read the newspaper obituaries for Kay Fanning, I didn’t quite recognize her. They all referred to Kay as a pioneer and I suppose she was.

But the label “pioneer” makes it sound as if Kay had followed a predetermined plan, set out to blaze a path. It sounded as if there were one straight seamless line from Smith College to editor of the Christian Science Monitor, from publisher’s wife to first woman President of ASNE.

But the Kay Fanning who was my friend was a much juicier and more complicated woman than that. Like so many women of her time and mine, she composed and recomposed her life in a series of unpredictable turns and twists.

As she went through one change after another, it wasn’t always clear what would happen next, what she could make happen next. Nor was it always easy.

But it made her life rich and full.

May I tell you two stories about times when I was lucky enough to be with Kay at moments of transition?

The first came when we met in the seventies in her natural habitat — Alaska. It was one of those June nights in Anchorage when the sun never quite sets. My husband and I kept waiting for a darkness that never arrived.

Kay was hosting a journalism seminar. But as it turned out, this was also the very same week that Kay’s feisty struggling paper, the Anchorage Daily News had finally passed the circulation of Anchorage Times.

That night we celebrated a struggle that she’d won, not just against another paper, but against the old establishment. She’d won not just for herself but for the people of Alaska.

The next day Kay took us to Homer by plane. She wanted to show off the state that she loved so much that years later, I would tease Kay as the only senior I knew who chose to “winter’’ in Alaska.

By the time we left Anchorage, I thought, “damn, I wish we lived nearer’’ because I knew Kay and I would be friends. Kay was the only natural resource of Alaska that I ever covetted.

The second story comes after Kay moved to Boston to head up the Monitor.

We did indeed become friends. We met once a month for breakfast with a group of women. But we also became co-conspirators. We were, after all, both members of ASNE in the days when women editors could still fit in a telephone booth.

So when Kay was slated to become the first woman President of ASNE, it was a moment for her and for all of us. Kay called me because she wanted to do something special to open up the convention that year.

There had been so many panels on women in journalism over the years that Kay and I concocted another plan. We asked Fred Friendly to conduct a seminar that would push the real issues of women’s progress, a seminar that would get the big time editors up on the podium and under the gun.

I remember the morning she invited Fred up to Boston to talk it over.

Kay asked me to breakfast and we sat there, the three of us drinking coffee.

Those of you who knew Fred remember that he was smart and egocentric, thoughtful and dogmatic. He became increasingly agitated as Kay laid out her plan. He wanted to do it his way.

Finally, he started squirming and sputtering and turned to Kay brusquely, asking “Who’s in charge of ASNE anyway? Who’s the President?’’ I watched this slow and warm and marvelous smile come over Kay’s face as she said, “I am, Fred.’’ What a moment of arrival.

The adventure of her life, from being a publisher’s wife to being President of ASNE, was a long and far one. All along the way she was true to herself even when she was hard on herself. She had enormous integrity and genorisity. She remained gritty and gracious. These are not words that go together very often and I don’t have a clue how she managed both. If anyone here knows, please tell me.

Kay was kind and smart and funny and positive. And the only word that I regret in that sentence is “was.’’ She leaves a tremendous hole in this world.

Years ago, the society columns referred to her as the “Grace Kelly’’ of Chicago. I always figured that she’d rather be Katherine Hepburn.

But now we all want to grow up to be Kay Fanning.

Goodman is associate editor of The Boston Globe.