'Deadline Artists'

W.J. Forbes, the Mencken of the Southwest. His was a brilliant if quixotic journalistic march across California, Nevada and Utah, culminating in the creation of a Battle Mountain, Nev. newspaper named “Measure for Measure” in 1873. Unfortunately, it was designed to appeal to people who liked to read and knew how to think. 

– Gene Weingarten, The Washington Post, Dec. 2, 2001.

Even writers of humor and satire are affected by world events. No kidding.

Imagine, for a moment, the newspaper columnist’s dilemma after having just penned (keyboarded?) an otherwise witty and pithy tome about small-town Americana that is set for publication on Sept. 12, 2001. It might not be quite so funny on the day after.

Three generations ago, it may have been similarly awkward for a newspaper columnist on Dec. 8, 1941.

Timing, as they say, is everything.

Just ask Gene Weingarten of The Washington Post.

Weingarten set out to find the “Armpit of America” in August 2001. It seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, it was all in jest – a writer of humor for one of the largest newspapers in the nation offers readers the opportunity to suggest what city in America is worthy of being dubbed its armpit.

The only thing that could possibly go wrong – did go wrong.

Bad timing.

Who knew the post September 11, 2001 United States of America would see a renewed sense of national pride and patriotism? (However short-lived it was.)

And so it was that Weingarten – with a little help from those who lived there – designated Battle Mountain, Nevada as the “Armpit of America” in August 2001.

“The road to Battle Mountain is flatter than any cliche – even pancakes have a certain doughy topology,” Weingarten writes. “On this route, there is nothing. No curves. No trees.

“It is desert, but it is lacking any desert-type beauty. No cacti. No tumbleweeds. None of those spooky cow skulls. The only flora consists of nondescript scrub that resembles acre upon acre of toilet brushes buried to the hilt. You know you have arrived at Battle Mountain because the town has marked its identity on a nearby hill in enormous letters (BM) fashioned from whitewashed rock.”

Well, at least those who live there have a sense of humor, one supposes.

Battle Mountain was built as a mining town. But “even God discourages visitors,” Weingarten says. In the summer, Battle Mountain temperatures hit 100 by day and drop to 45 at night. Winters typically see a month or more with below zero temperatures.

“The town began as a lie. Prospector George Tannihill christened it in 1866 as a mining district, saying he chose the name to commemorate the fierce battle he and 23 settlers led by a Capt. Pierson against marauding Indians there in 1857,” Weingarten writes. “Nevada historians have since poked a few holes in this story: There appears never to have been a Capt. Pierson, or 23 settlers, or any attacking Indians, or a battle, or pioneer heroism, or, for that matter, a mountain. (There does appear to have been a year ‘1857.’)”

A little more from Weingarten and David W. Toll of The Nevada Travel Network’s Description and History of Battle Mountain:

According to David Toll's “The Complete Nevada Traveler,” the Battle Mountain area has two famous alumni. The first was W.J. Forbes, the Mencken of the Southwest. His was a brilliant if quixotic journalistic march across California, Nevada and Utah, culminating in the creation of a Battle Mountain newspaper named Measure for Measure in 1873. Unfortunately, it was designed to appeal to people who liked to read and knew how to think.

As summarized half a century later by Carson City journalist Sam Davis: “A friend found Forbes stiff and cold across his shabby bed. He had fought a fight against all odds all his life, was one of the brightest geniuses the coast had ever seen, but he lived in communities where his mental brightness was more envied than appreciated."

"(Battle Mountain, where genius comes to die)," Weingarten parenthesizes.

Civil War Gen. James H. Ledlie retired to Battle Mountain after the war. “General Ledlie's name actually found its way onto the lips of a president of the United States, and in a startling superlative,” Weingarten writes. “Ulysses S. Grant himself called Gen. Ledlie ‘the greatest coward of the Civil War.’”

Thus, there’s an historical connection between Battle Mountain, Nevada and southern Ohio.

In his description of the town, Weingarten writes: “In Battle Mountain, entropy reigns; architectural context is nonexistent. One of the prettier wooden houses, with two levels and a porch, is 40 feet from the 24-hour car wash, serve-yourself, $1. Corrugated aluminum and aluminum siding seem to be the building material of choice. There are a lot of trailers. One had a smaller trailer in the back yard.”

After Sept. 11, 2001, Weingarten revisited Battle Mountain – and his “Armpit of America” column.

He writes:

“I don't want to officially declare Battle Mountain the Armpit of America, and they don't want me to, and I don't have to, and, truth to tell, maybe it isn't. Sure, it's got some jerky people, but it has some wonderful people, too. Maybe it's not the armpit. Maybe there simply is no such body part, now.

“We promised to find the armpit of America. Turns out it's only about five inches from the heart.”

By the way, Gene Weingarten is a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist. His "Below the Beltway" column is nationally syndicated.

Mr. Weingarten’s column is one of the lengthier ones in the 2011 book “Deadline Artists: America’s Greatest Newspaper Columns,” put together by John Avlon, Jesse Angelo and Errol Louis. In addition to humor and satire, its contents include columns on war, crime, politics, sports, civil rights, hard times and other topics.

Newspaper columnists include: Mike Royko, William F. Buckley, Ernie Pyle, William Safire, Leonard Pitts, Jr. (who was once plagiarized by a former Hillsboro reporter), H.L. Mencken, Red Smith, Grantland Rice, Jimmy Breslin, Walter Lippmann, George Will, Carl Rowan, Hunter S. Thompson, Lewis Grizzard (“I Ate Breakfast and Lived”), Bob Greene (another Buckeye), Erma Bombeck, Will Rogers, Molly Ivins, Dave Barry and many, many more – even Ernest Hemingway and Theodore Roosevelt.

Speaking of Dave Barry, one of his columns from 1987, “Pithy into the Wind,” is included in the book. He even makes fun of his own craft, saying, “At certain times each year, we journalists do almost nothing except apply for the Pulitzers and several dozen other prizes. During these times, you could walk right into most newsrooms and commit a multiple ax murder naked, and it wouldn’t get reported in the paper, because the reporters and editors would all be too busy filling our prize applications. ‘Hey!’ they’d yell. Watch it! You’re getting blood on my application.’”

(Of course, the awards aren’t really important, etc., etc. It’s all about the service, blah, blah, blah. By the way, HCP staff are under orders to report anyone who commits a multiple ax murder naked in our building.)

The “Deadline Artists” are liberals, conservatives and moderates. More importantly, they are talented and gifted writers, with a brilliant flair for the art. (I initially wrote “dying art,” but hope that postmortem is premature.)

One of the more enjoyable things about “Deadline Artists” is that it doesn’t require reading from beginning to end, although that’s a safe journey, too.

Kathleen Parker describes “Deadline Artists” as an essential collection for journalists, students and libraries, but also for anyone who wants great writing in their home.

She’s right.

And, having worked with a few deadline artists over the past 25 years, I am most appreciative of my copy. But you’ll have to buy your own. I’m thinking I can get at least another column or 10 from this one.

Rory Ryan is publisher and owner of The Highland County Press.