Did I ever tell you how I became a media nut? It started generations ago as I entered graduate school in Cleveland where my uncle the Reverend Aloysius Mark Fitzpatrick was the editor there of “The Catholic Universe Bulletin”, a weekly diocesan paper. I had won an annual essay of the Jesuit University of Detroit (Don’t ask me why the Jebbies named their U’s after cities rather than saints (maybe it was to entice non-Catholics for potential conversion!) “Needed More Red-Blooded American Catholics” to advance racial discrimination. (Commies were the only Americans in the ‘40’s who were square with blacks!) That prize made me want to conquer the media world. Alas, when the doctoral committee at Western Reserve University asked me who I wanted to write my dissertation on, I replied “Marshall McLuhan”! "Who”? They replied in Unison! I silently middle-fingered them and decided to go on the spot to Michigan State, where at least I wouldn’t have to pay out-of-state tuition.
Now State was then
what we called a Cow College, a university that only majored in
agriculture. But Times were a-changing, mainly because of a brilliant
new English Department. I had just gotten married and my first son
Michael, 1952, was on the way. So I became the janitor of the East
Lansing State Bank, right across the street from the U. Now
janitoring was not my ambition, but you hear every bit of gossip as
you you push your broom. And I heard that the 10th
and 12th
grade teacher had just been canned for incompetence. I asked the new
English chair if I would jeopardize my graduate status if I got that
teaching: “Hell, no!” he replied. The depression was just over
and his department had financed their Ph.D.’s with such jobs. So
I took it! The best students I ever had—children of uni profs or
Lansing execs!
Here’s
where the “cow college” returns. MSU was the first U to get a TV
channel. And they were eager to find programs. I invented one for my
students: “Everyman Is a Critic”!, a Saturday morning TV rant on
teenage age leisure. It caught on—so much so that the Ford
Foundation gave me a grant to spend a year in New York to goose the
T&V Execs into doing more for high school students. I visited
“Scholastic Teacher” and ended up as their radio and TV
editor—with access into every High School in the USA:I invited
myself, and found Dr. Ralph Bunche (the first black to be a rep
abroad in our State Department—he had just been on a “Time”
cover. The other guy asked “Well how’s it going, Mr. Hazard?”
“Lousy” I replied. “I’ve been trying for weeks to get an
interview with Sylvester “Pat” Weaver, NBC’s head. He was very
committed to raising TV’s IQ, but nobody wanted to palaver with an
English teacher from Nowhere. Finally, the other guy said, "I like
your enthusiasm, and I’m on the foundation that gave you your
grant”. “I’m Roy Larsen, the publisher of “TIME”, how
would you like an office in the Time-Life Building. I gulped, and
took his card.
Monday I was given my own office on the 34th
floor of the Time-Life Building. I called Weaver first thing. “Busy”.
But I left the magical “Time” phone number, Judson 62525. “The
Time PA system barked, “Is there a Patrick D. Hazard, from East
Lansing High? Call NBC!” NBC was a five-minute walk across Sixth
Avenue. “Fifteen Minutes”? Weaver spent four hours connected
with every department at his network, introducing me to Ed Stanley,
NBC’s public affairs Officer. CBS; ABC; NPR followed. I was a
functioning media nut. “Freshman English” is the toughest course
to teach after High School boredom. They have their own convention. I
spoke. “Don’t Let Liberace steal your students”! I cried.
Three
profs from Trenton offered me a job teaching Freshman English at
their college. The students were great! All first college families! I
finished my dissertation. And at age 30 I got a Carnegie Scholar
grant to create the first mass culture course in an American
university at Penn. One year to design it. Second to teach it. The
third year Walter Annenberg gave Penn 2 million dollars to found a
Grad School in Communication. “Faute Mieu” I was the
organizer, gently dragging my mentor Gilbert Seldes out of retirement
to be Dean. I taught media history, until Harvard’s David Riesman
nominated me to be the first director od The East-West Center in
Honolulu: Asians to learn American Technology, Americans to learn
Asian Culture. Best (and shortest) job I ever had: I had a weekly
radio hour called “Pacific Profile”, a Sunday Morning commercial
station with my wife called Coffee Break”.
What I was too innocent
to see, the State Department financed this department to keep Commies
out of the U. And my number 2, chosen without a word from me, a
Seymour Lutsky had been a CIA operative in the 10 years since his
Iowa Ph.D., which could “earn” by milking six cows, for four big
ones. I quit on the spot.
We (me, my wife and three children)back to
our sweet Louie Kahn house in Greenbelt Knoll, an experiment in
racial integration. I became English chairman of what became Arcadia
University. Soon I was training into New York every Tuesday to advise
them on What BBC programs they should promote for ETV and high
schools and universities and wrote a quarterly essay for the BBC on
the best American TV the preceding quarter.
Once a media nut, always
a media nut. Here I write this essay at 87, judging German papers
and TV for their value.
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