Born To Be a Newspaper Man

by Martin J. McGowan Jr.

My Father Dies

As mentioned earlier, after my father retired from active participation in the publication of the Appleton Press, it was my custom to go to his house at 5 p. m. after work to visit with him and bring him up to date on how things were going at the office. In good weather he often took a walk down town with a cane to visit with his cronies at the Pederson Clothing Store and hoist a libation or two. This usually consisted of President Harry Truman's favorite Bourbon and Branch (whiskey and water). I often joined him there and maybe had a whistle wetter with him before taking him home by car.

One day after Christmas, 1953, I went to his house at 5 o'clock and found him seated in a chair all dressed up in a suit, vest and all, reading a newspaper. He commented that he wasn't feeling well and perhaps we should contact his doctor, Dr. E. J. Kaufman, to come and see him. Dr. Kaufman was not available at the time but his associate, Dr. J. A. Rorem, was available and came to the house. It was apparent Dad was having difficulty with his breathing and the emphysema was worse. A bed was put in the sun room on the same floor and Dad went to bed.

Betty and I went to a New Year's Eve party at Dr. Kaufman's and he remarked Dad was not doing well. A plastic tent was put over his bed and oxygen was pumped in. It was quite disturbing to see Dad flailing away at the tent as he became delirious.

I believe it was a Monday morning, Jan. 4, after I went to work that about 11 a. m. I was called that Dad was going fast. I hurried to the house where my stepmother, Elizabeth, and her daughter, Eleanor, home for the holidays, had gathered at the bed. Dr. Kaufman was also there as Dad expired. I hadn't cried since I was a child but I broke down and sobbed at the realization he was gone.

Eleanor and I had the same father but different mothers. She brought great joy to Dad in his last years and felt the loss as greatly as I did.

Dr. Kaufman had been standing by in another room during the prayers. He said he witnessed death so often that it didn't move him much as part of his duties. But on this occasion he said he was moved and felt the loss too. Dr. Kaufman never went to funerals of his patients but Dad was one patient whose departure from this life had an impact.

I then went to my office to clear up remaining details on the paper for that week and make funeral arrangements. At the office I was met with a surprise. John Hallaway and son, of Holloway, were there to meet me.

The previous day I had gone to Sunday Mass at Holloway. The streets were plugged with snow and there was some difficulty in getting around. As I started my car I had to race the engine to get any traction in the snow. My car swerved a bit and I must have bumped another car. I didn't think it amounted to much and I continued on home.

Apparently I had sideswiped John Hallaway's car and dented something. The next morning he was in my office to discuss the damage. I informed him that my father had just died and I was leaving to make funeral arrangements. I said any damage would be covered by my insurance. With that announcement Hallaway and son left the office and I never heard any more about the incident.

The funeral was held on Jan. 7, a bitterly cold day. The Catholic church then was a small frame structure that seated about 100 people next to the city hall. Family and some people from town quickly filled the church. Several editors and publishers from nearby towns came to pay tribune. I felt sorry for them having to stand outside in the cold during the funeral. After the service they came to me in our car as we were about to move to the burial in the cemetery. Their appearance testified to the high regard in which my father was held by his contemporaries. Testimonials in area newspapers also added to that esteem.

Dad left the home and land, a large plot which he had built up to one of the scenic spots in Appleton, to Elizabeth. She lived there many years until she moved to be with Eleanor in Massachusetts. She taught piano to two generations of students in the home and her recitals performed by students were always community highlights. She was also organist and choir director at St. John's Catholic church until congregational singing took over from choral singing.

The Appleton Press was left to Eleanor and me equally. I knew that if I was to continue publishing the paper I would have to purchase Eleanor's half and be sole publisher. This was done with the assistance of Esko Ranta, a Minneapolis attorney who first did tax work for A. J. Kaufman and the Minnesota Farms Co. and later for R. G. Risch at the Reno theater. They spoke highly of his work and so Dad utilized him for tax work as well. My buyout of Eleanor's interest occurred over a period of time.

So my father was gone and his departure left a large hole in my life. We never had what might be called a close buddy-buddy relationship. We didn't go hunting or fishing together because he never did any of those things. He did play golf badly but I can't recall ever playing with him. He never owned wood clubs and played only with irons and had what was called a driving iron. In those days clubs didn't have numbers, they had names like the driver, mashie, niblick and putter. A golfer then needed only five clubs but today they have that many woods alone and another dozen irons. Despite his lack of proficiency at the game, Dad was president of the golf club in the days when the course had sand greens.

This is not to say my father didn't love me. He did and I loved him but it was a relationship from afar. I always looked to him and admired his work. He also took pride in my work in school and on the paper. But the McGowans are not ones to display emotion. They bottle it up.

Even though we didn't go hunting or fishing he took me to political conventions and gatherings and pointed out the lobbyists and fakers. He also took me to newspaper meetings and picnics. Later he told me to take $25 from the cash and go to the state newspaper conventions. After he was gone and I began to clean out his desk that I took over I discovered books on newspaper style and punctuation. That is how he learned what he learned when he missed high school.

So now I was alone, no longer able to consult him for guidance. I had to find a way to make a living at the paper and feed my growing family. Fortunately, some of the best years I had on the Appleton Press came along at this time. At one time in his final years, Dad suggested that I consider running for Congress. I was honored for him to think that I could do it but there were family responsibilities and more training needed. However, this did lead to a smaller political career, which is the next part of this story.

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