Illustration: Ben Kirchner
During the summer of 1983, I interned at New Jersey Monthly under the tutelage of David Sarasohn, an investigative journalist. Like English majors everywhere, I wondered what I would do for a living. My declared life’s work—being a poet—wasn’t going to cut it, at least financially. I didn’t want to work in advertising, the graveyard of many an aspiring writer. In high school and college, I had worked on the student newspapers, and journalism seemed like a potential career.
The magazine’s office was (and still is) in Morristown, in space shared back then with The Daily Record. I recall, the quarters were scruffy and dim and smelled of cigarettes. Yes, people smoked back then, in offices, trains, cars and restaurants. I don’t remember computer screens, and there were no such thing as email, texts or social media. My duties were the work of every fledgling journalist: checking the spellings of names and places, confirming dates, taking notes (by hand, not on a device), and performing other tasks that contributed to accurate reporting.
David even gave me the opportunity to write two short pieces, one on a child actor who bore an alarming resemblance to chicken magnate Frank Purdue, and the second on a school in Camden that had dramatically improved student outcomes under difficult circumstances. I still remember blowing out a tire, on my way home from Camden after conducting interviews for the story, and changing the flat in the too-narrow breakdown lane of a busy local highway leading to the Turnpike. Good times.
David was a generous mentor: clear, demanding and ambitious. He had been a professor at Reed College and then a political journalist in Oregon and was prickly about New Jersey politics and public figures. At that time, New Jersey Monthly published hard news, long-form investigative reports and exposés. It was a scrappy, daring newcomer in a state dominated by the Newark Star-Ledger and other major daily newspapers.
I veered off the journalism path for other pursuits, including a lifelong vocation in poetry and a four-decade career in book publishing at St. Martin’s Press, a major general-interest house. But that summer gave me the confidence to research, ask questions, conduct interviews, meet deadlines, write, edit and aim a little higher for myself.
I’m forever grateful to New Jersey Monthly for the opportunities that led to a life working with authors. In fact, many of my authors are journalists themselves, whether investigative, sports, business, arts or features writers from a wide range of newspapers and magazines.
As the media landscape changes for the worse and accurate reporting is threatened by AI, shills disguised as authorities, governmental pledge requirements, nuisance lawsuits and other tactics, this quote from Isabel Allende draws a line: “Write what should not be forgotten.”
George Witte is a poet, book editor and New Jersey native.
Richard L. Greene has a massive, 750,000-matchbook collection with thousands of New Jersey match covers.
Sabbuur “Saki” Ikhlas directs Untouchables: The Story of Coach Derrick Hoff and St. Benedict’s Fencing, a new documentary about the team’s coach and rise to 10 undefeated seasons.
