“I recall admiring the calmly expository flavor and simple, nonjudgemental humanity of profile stories Patrick Kurp contributed to the Gazette, years and years ago.”
After three decades, I’ve
heard from a former newspaper colleague, a music writer, Mike Hochanadel. A retired
photographer and newspaper alumnus, Marc Schultz, alerted me to Mike’s blog, “Hoke’s Jukebox” (“Quiet reflections on a loud life”) devoted to happenings in upstate
New York, where I lived and worked for nineteen years.
Mike refers to the
features I wrote for The Daily Gazette in Schenectady from 1994 to 1999.
In particular, I wrote a weekly series about “hamlets,” mostly in Saratoga
County. I use quotation marks because these are not places that officially exist,
at least according to any government, including the post office. Often they
were rural crossroads without signs, phantom places from the nineteenth century.
I would consult old maps,
identify a promising defunct community, perhaps do a little research at the
library and spend the day tramping around the hamlet. Usually, I would visit
the cemetery, reading the stones that hadn’t been erased by acid
rain, then knock on doors. Once I happened on a burial, in a grave dug by hand by
the cemetery caretaker, a garrulous old man. Most people would talk to me, though
often they were puzzled that anyone was curious about the place. Sometimes
their families had lived there for generations. Others were newcomers. Slowly,
over the course of the day, after many interviews, I formed an impression of
the place. Then I drove back to the office and wrote my story. I remember Koons
Corners and Porters Corners. All the stories are clipped and buried in a file
cabinet. The novelist William Kennedy once asked if I was trying to be the Charles Kuralt of the Capital Region.
I used to tell journalism students that I worked in two media – words and people. I was seldom interested in most conventional journalistic beats – government, business, politics, courts – though I had to cover all those fields and I’m grateful for the experience. I just never had much interest in “news,” and still don’t. People interest me, as does the quality of the writing. Mike’s description of my prose above is pleasing to hear. I worked hard on my copy to avoid clichés but at the same time to avoid purple language. In other words, I tried to be concise and precise.
On this date, April 7, in
1891, Jules Renard wrote in his journal: “Style is the forgetting of all
styles.”
[The quoted passage is from Renard’s Journal 1887-1910 (trans. Theo Cuffe, selected and introduced by Julian Barnes, riverrun, 2020).]
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