RIVER CITY JOURNAL: WHEN THE NEWSPAPER CAUSES ANY PAIN, IT HURTS US TOO

* Our readers are quick to defend decency, privacy and accuracy -- and their every effort is appreciated.

It was probably Benjamin Franklin -- or someone just as smart -- who said if newspapers only printed what would please everyone, the news would be pretty bland.

Old Ben was a printer and newspaperman, so he had some experience, no doubt, with concerned readers. In the days before the American Revolution, the printed word had power beyond modern comprehension. There are those who speculate the printing press was the most important weapon in the fight for American freedom.

Hey, Joe. This sounds like mighty serious stuff. We're eating our Wheaties. Give us a break.

I know. I know.

But editor's have to do some serious stuff once in a while.

And it's been a while.

Let's start this way: In the past week this newspaper has managed to cause pain, grief, suffering, anguish and frustration. Guess what. None of us here wanted to do any of that. But it happened.

There was an offensive photograph. There was an intrusion on privacy. There was a royal mix-up -- not to be confused with a royal flush or even a grand slam -- in the newly revived bridge column.

The photo: Several months ago, photographers here at the Southeast Missourian came up with the idea of a monthly photo package that would feature some of our area's less-traveled roads and out-of-the-way towns. Response has been excellent and positive.

Until last Sunday.

Part of the photo package featuring Route B was a large -- really large -- photo of a couple standing in the shallow water of Whitewater River while a child played in the stream. The caption said this was a family outing. The couple was kissing. And they were holding cigarettes and beer containers.

The photographer saw this tableau as a representation of what any motorist along Route B might see on a hot afternoon. And, it goes without saying, when people are making the most of their leisure time, they sometimes drink a beer or smoke a cigarette.

But to some of our readers, the photo was extremely offensive. For the most part, they were offended that this newspaper, known for its family values, would so blatantly present a photograph that appeared to promote smoking and drinking by young parents while a child played nearby.

For other readers, this was in no way offensive. It's easy to find similar real-life vignettes on our city streets, where we shop or where we enjoy other relaxing pursuits such as softball games or soccer matches.

In any event, the photo caused considerable -- and understandable -- consternation. Was this even considered before the photo was published? Yes. Then why was it published? Because it was a good photographic representation of a slice of life on Route B. But why was the photo so big? Because it was a compelling photo and because it contained a lot of information. Would you publish it again, now that you know some readers were offended? That's not so easy to answer. These decisions are based on too many factors to say it would always be done one way or another.

But here's something I know: We would certainly think longer and harder before we decided.

The intrusion: The newsroom here at the paper has loudspeakers that bark all day long as various emergency and police departments communicate with each other. To us, the noise is second nature. Many visitors wonder how we can concentrate with all the racket.

The radio scanners keep us in touch with the goings-on of those various agencies that are so vital to our community. When someone hears something that might be -- might be -- a news story, they begin the process of tracking down information or going to the scene to see what's happening.

Sunday afternoon, a large contingent of emergency vehicles and personnel descended on what otherwise is a quiet residential neighborhood. Among the interlopers were reporters and photographers who only knew a lot of official people dressed in official garb and driving official vehicles with lots of swirling lights were on the scene.

A photographer's effort to record the scene was considered to be both intrusive and offensive in a tragic situation that involved the death of a man I knew quite well. As soon as the photographer understood what was going on, he went back to the office.

But the hurt of a grieving family was in no way lessened by the perceived intrusion.

When this happens, there is pain in this building too.

And there is a wish that, somehow, anything that contributed to additional suffering could have been avoided.

The mix-up: A passionate reader of the Missourian's bridge column called bright and early Monday morning. The bridge column recently returned on the newspaper's new features page.

It's great to have the bridge column back, the earnest reader said, but the text and illustration in Monday morning's paper didn't match.

That happens from time to time. We pull the text from one place and the illustration from another, and then we try to make sure we have both right parts for the right day. Monday wasn't one of those days.

So we reran the column Tuesday. Guess what. We ran the wrong pieces-parts again.

So on Wednesday we had to correct the errors of both Monday and Tuesday. Gosh, that really makes an editor feel good.

More than a quarter-century ago, the president of a bank called to tell me that figures we had published about assets and liabilities at the bank were incorrect. The assets were missing three zeroes. That a lot of dollars.

I went to see the bank president. He told me he understood that people make mistakes. But, he said, the bank prided itself on catching its mistakes before they left the building. That way, customers would never know a mistake had ever been made.

I'd like to see this newspaper -- and all newspapers -- work like bank clerks to make sure the only people who ever saw our mistakes were the people who made them in the first place.

We're still trying.

Thank goodness, we don't handle a lot of money in the newsroom.

~R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.