Last Updated: August 13, 1999
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A look back
From the roaring rapids of a hotel ballroom to the
confined closet of a Leningrad-to-Moscow express, Stinnett has loved his
job
Mostly, I have enjoyed my daily commutes to and from ASNE headquarters
in Reston, Va. Usually, I listen to the news, CDs or Italian tapes. Rarely
am I preoccupied with problems at the office. That’s because I work with
members and staff who care a great deal about their work and believe in
ASNE and its purpose.
Newspapers today, I believe, are more open to everyone, more informative,
and better looking than they were 18 years ago. ASNE deserves some of the
credit. Our annual expenditures now exceed $2 million. ASNE is a deeper
and better organization, I believe. The Society’s priorities — newsroom
diversity, news coverage, relations with readers, First Amendment,
journalism education — are the best turf in journalism, and America is
the best place to be a journalist.
The ASNE executive director’s job is the best job in the world. Every
day is challenging and worthwhile. Nothing is ever “finished.”
ASNE members are exceptional people — our democracy’s finest truth tellers.
As executive director, I got to work with many editors and to meet national
and international figures.
Once I had to tell an important guest speaker, “Sir, I a m in charge
of time here.” President Clinton smiled and said, “Fine, Lee, now what
do I do?”
On another occasion, I unexpectedly had 15 minutes alone with the president
of Mexico. He arrived early and the ASNE greeters arrived late. My ability
to talk knowledgeably about Mexico was clearly exhausted by the time the
ASNE leaders appeared and, fortunately, relieved me.
I haven’t had to put out any fires during my ASNE career, though I did
have to plug an unscheduled waterfall that cascaded from the convention
ballroom ceiling just behind our distinguished speaker, Jim Batten of Knight-Ridder.
Then there was an infamous incident about my imprisonment in a closet
on a overnight Leningrad-to-Moscow train. (Skip this part if you’ve heard
it already.)
My version is that somehow my ASNE flock with our Soviet minder boarded
the train without me. When the train began to move, I hopped aboard. I
summoned up my best Russian to say, “Moscow?” to the hostile conductor
who confronted me.
He demanded my ticket, but I had none. I showed him, however, the 28
American passports of our ASNE group that were in my “safe” keeping. He
listened with great interest to my explanation in English and creative
body language, then politely escorted me to what turned out to be a closet
and locked the door behind me.
After awhile, I grew testy and banged on the door. Soon, the door opened,
someone shoved a cup of tea in my hand. I understood his Russian to mean,
“Drink this and shut up.”
Eventually, I was rescued by our Soviet guide and an ASNE search party.
I was never so glad to see a bunch of editors.
I leave ASNE with memories galore … of challenges, accomplishments,
some successes and a few failures, great meals, good wine, memorable conversations…
in fact, the world. But most of all, I cherish the friendships.
Thank you!
