James Russell

By Andrew Edwards

Veteran journalist James “Jim” Russell embodied the best of the “Greatest Generation.”

Remembered for his unflinching Southern temperament, Russell was an air combat veteran and a pioneering voice of business journalism in South Florida.  During his 42-year career at The Miami Herald, Russell diligently charted the region’s rise as a global economic hub.  A respected editor and columnist, Russell tackled national economic trends and sought to reach readers through simple and understandable writing.

Russell also did business commentary for Miami talk radio and engaged in extensive freelance writing throughout his career.  His pieces were published by The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, Dow Jones Newswires and even The Times of London.

Russell’s dedication to business journalism, as well as his kind nature, left strong impressions on many young reporters.

”Jim was a fine journalist and a consummate gentleman, a bit of a rarity in a newsroom,” said Gail DeGeorge, economy editor for Bloomberg News and a former Miami Herald business reporter in the mid-1980s.  “He was helpful to me as a young reporter, pointing out sources and resources and giving advice without being condescending.”

Mimi Whitefield, who has reported for The Herald since 1980, said that Russell was the definition of modesty.

“Jim was a soft-spoken, unassuming man,” Whitefield said.  “It was years before some of the reporters learned that Jim flew 65 missions on a B-26 bomber in World War II.  But if asked to share his war stories — both as a reporter and during the actual war — he always obliged.”

In 2003, Russell wrote a definitive account of his wartime service in a memoir titled “Out of Ouachita: One Man’s Odyssey Through the Greatest Generation.”  In his book, Russell extensively discussed his combat role as a gunner aboard the B-26 Marauder.

After the war, Russell joined the ranks of the old International News Service as a wire reporter.  He joined The Herald in 1957 and was quickly promoted to assistant city editor and then business and financial editor.

While business journalism would become Russell’s lifelong passion, he was unexpectedly assigned to the beat by The Herald’s assistant managing editor, Al Neuharth.  (Neuharth would go on to head the Gannett media empire and found USA Today.)  According to Whitefield, Russell said that he didn’t know the difference between a stock and a bond when he first received the assignment.  However, he took Neuharth’s challenge seriously and was proud of his work.

Russell’s background as a wire service reporter gave his business and financial writing a unique style.  Above all else, his writing was simple and accessible.

“His gift, of course, was writing a financial column that virtually any reader could understand,” said Dave Satterfield, who worked at The Herald for 17 years as a writer and editor.  “He was a disciple of the Warren Buffetts and John Bogles of the world.”

While modest and well-mannered, Russell was passionate about how he conducted his work.  He was resistant to new technology.

“When computers were introduced into newsrooms, Jim continued to write his columns on an IBM Selectric typewriter,” Satterfield said.  “He then would pull the paper from the typewriter and retype it into a computer. This behavior never changed while I worked with Jim.”

Russell’s column ran three days a week until March 1, 1994.  It then ran at Russell’s request for another four years.  By the time of his last column on Nov. 29, 1998, Russell was a day shy of his 77^th birthday.

His energy and longevity stood out in a deadline-driven industry.

“I was amazed at Jim’s ability to churn out three columns a week for decades,” Whitefield said.  “Many of the reporters weren’t quite sure how old Jim was. He seemed ageless.”

In his final column, Russell acknowledged the vast economic potential of the internet, describing it as “a rapid growth industry perhaps unrivaled in the annals of American business.”  However, Russell also implored his readers to consider dangerous parallels between the Internet and 17^th century tulip mania, the first speculative bubble in history.  Two years after Russell’s final column, the dot-com bubble burst.

Russell picked up the pen one last time in 2004.  At Whitefield’s request, Russell wrote a review of Joe Treaster’s book “Paul Volcker: The Making of a Financial Legend.”  The piece, which ran in The Herald’s Business Monday publication, was his last for the paper.

“Jim was 82 at the time, but as usual his piece came in polished, well-crafted and on deadline,” Whitefield said.

Russell’s achievements are honored by his alma mater, Louisiana State University.  Russell was inducted into LSU’s Manship School of Mass Communication Hall of Fame in 1998.

Russell died at his home in Kendall, Fla., on July 21, 2013.  He was 91.

Andrew Edwards is a native of Greensboro, N.C., and a history and journalism double major in the Class of 2014 at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. 

By Jeff Kagan

In early 1984, a gaggle of New York Times editors sat in their executive dining room with Ivan Boesky, then one of Wall Street’s top arbitrageurs. The essence of rarified financial expertise, Boesky sat in a starched white shirt with point collars across the table from the reporters.

Over the years, Boesky had found himself involved with every large breaking merger on Wall Street, playing the role of prescient dealmaker. If there was a major deal, Boesky had a piece of the pie.

After a few minutes, a tousled Robert Cole walked in and quickly settled into his natural position. The group bantered until Cole sat up and politely asked, “You seem to be in on every big deal before it happens…how?”

It was the ultimate basic question you’re not taught to ask when you get in front of big sources. Most reporters tried to play the game – particularly when covering Wall Street.

“But Bob…Bob was gonna call bullshit on Boesky,” said Rex Seline, who worked as the assistant to the business editor at The Times starting in 1985. Seline remembered Cole as the ultimate crusty reporter.

A few months after the meeting, the feds blew the whistle on Boesky, hitting him with fines exceeding $100 million.

Starting in the early 1960s, Robert Cole covered personal and corporate finance, mergers and acquisitions and general securities at The Times. Infamous for his brevity, Cole’s quick wit and silver tongue emerged when toiling with Wall Street’s stories and scandals.

According to The Times obituary, Cole was born in 1925 in Rhode Island and graduated from the University of Texas, Austin, in 1947. After a stint in the Navy during World War II, Cole began his career in 1949 as a reporter for The Mexico City Herald. A year later, Cole moved to become foreign editor of The New York Journal of Commerce, eventually joining The Times financial news department in 1962

During his inaugural years at The Times, Cole’s laconic wit emerged. In a 1970 article on hospital testing, Cole wrote, “If you’ve ever had to spend as much as a week in the hospital, nobody has to tell you that it’s much cheaper to spend a week in the best suite at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.

Through covering the largest mergers and buyouts of the day, Cole quickly built up a tolerance towards recalcitrant financiers looking to steer clear of Cole’s prodding questions. Yet, he never tried to impress with his smarts. He went after stories in the simplest, most basic terms possible. This ability to demystify Wall Street through upfront questioning helped elucidate a transformative age in corporate finance. Cole extracted straightforward information from some of history’s most complicated transactions.

“Some analyst got caught up in arcane generalizations…trying to get deals to happen while being enamored with themselves – Bob didn’t deal with that,” Seline said.

This pragmatic attitude was pervasive.

Diana Henriques wrote a Sunday stock column at The Times during Cole’s tenure. Though relatively new to the paper, she gained acclaim for her column’s ability to move stocks.

Henriques recalled one day when Cole, who she had not been formally introduced to, walked up to her desk and curtly asked, “What do you do here?”

After hearing about the writer’s Sunday column, Cole insouciantly remarked, “Oh, I don’t read the paper on Sundays…I’m off.”

Seline and Henriques both remembered Cole’s daily interactions with executives, reporters, editors and anyone who was not meeting his standards. Cole’s relentless efforts to deliver the big stories gave him a unique persona.

“It was fun to watch from a distance when he was rolling over people,” Seline chuckled.

In 1985, Cole received a Loeb Award for his coverage of The Standard Oil Co. of California’s acquisition of the Gulf Corp. The protracted deal dragged through courts and Wall Street’s top banks. In spite of the noise, Cole masterfully combined financial details with a unique sense of deal proceedings and possible outcomes.

Cole’s coverage of merger activity showed he took the info he needed, asked what the deal was, what is meant, how much money was involved and how much could be made. Covering a sanctimonious Wall Street, Cole wrote with necessary circumspect and skepticism

In 2009, Cole passed in Asheville, N.C., at the age of 83.

Jeff Kagan is a native of Raleigh, N.C., and a business journalism major in the Class of 2015 at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

Harlan Byrne

By Madeline Will

For more than half a century, Harlan Byrne was an icon of financial journalism.

To young reporters, he was a fountain of institutional knowledge and a reminder of a past era of journalists. He covered companies for about 60 years at both the Wall Street Journal and Barron’s, Dow Jones’ weekly investment magazine. He started working at the Journal in 1949 and later became assistant bureau chief in Chicago — the city that he stayed in for the rest of his career. He moved to Barron’s in 1985 and continued writing until 2006.

Byrne was an old-school newspaperman. He would wear a suit and tie to the office. He had served in World War II after college, and he was fond of martinis and White Russians. Former Barron’s colleague Richard Rescigno still remembers Byrne’s routine after filing a story: go downstairs to the building’s bar, drink a few martinis, and then go back upstairs to start a new story.

He was a reporter before the Internet, and the introduction of computers to the newsroom threw him for a loop, said Jon Laing, who worked with Byrne at Barron’s. Byrne kept hundreds of files on different companies — clippings from the New York Times or the Wall Street Journal and any information he had compiled in the course of his reporting.

Laing cleaned out Byrne’s office after his death.

“It was a two-day process,” he said. “I was filling dumpster after dumpster with the files.”

At the Journal, he supervised the training of new journalists, said Todd Fandell, who worked with Byrne for years at the Journal. Byrne taught reporters how to do their first stories.

Fandell, who later served as editor of the trade publication Advertising Age, said Byrne influenced his own career — “No question about it.”

“He just knew all the rules, you could always count on him for advice on how to go about getting stories,” Fandell said. “He just had the know-how.”

Byrne was a constant in Chicago’s business journalism scene, even as the financial landscape changed throughout the years. For decades, the city was a major banking center. It no longer is, but Chicago remains the hub of the commodity market.

Byrne covered many important industrial companies that were based in the Midwest, Rescigno said, going beyond the surface of the news to strike at the heart of the issue and analyze companies’ future prospects.

Many business journalists and editors are based in New York and don’t know much about the Midwest, Rescigno said. But Byrne, who graduated from the University of Missouri School of Journalism, was a master of the region.

Rescigno, who served in various editor positions, including managing editor, during Byrne’s time at Barron’s, said if he ever had a question while reading Byrne’s copy, he would call and ask — and Byrne always had the information in his notes.

“He was a bulldog in terms of getting stuff,” he said. “He was pretty resourceful.”

Byrne was nominated for several awards in the course of his career, including a Pulitzer Prize nod in 1982.

He was a journalist who simply loved to write, said Bob Goldsborough, who wrote Byrne’s obituary for the Chicago Tribune. Byrne used to tell people that he would keep writing until his stories stopped making sense.

Even after he had retired in 2001, there was still a desk for him at Barron’s. He continued writing and contributing until just a few years before his death. Byrne died on Feb. 23, 2010. He was 89.

In a column after Byrne died, his former colleague Alan Abelson — a Barron’s columnist and former editor who is now deceased — praised Byrne’s ability to cover the industrial companies of the Midwest.

“He was a meticulous reporter of the highest integrity, a prolific writer, an unflappable, low-key interviewer, no matter how grouchy and intimidating the subject, an astute judge of markets and possessed an extraordinary ability to separate fact from hyperbole, truth from spin,” Abelson wrote. “We can’t recall a single instance when one of the countless pieces he wrote elicited a complaint of inaccuracy from even the crankiest corporate chieftain.”

Byrne, who had a slight Missouri accent, was personable and easy to get along with — “an aw-shucks Midwestern type” — and that helped him when dealing with difficult sources, Rescigno said. That also endeared him to his colleagues.

“He was always even-tempered, he never seemed to have down periods,” Fandell said. “He always was in good spirits and very encouraging to other people.”

Byrne kept in touch with many of his former colleagues — Fandell said Byrne never forgot anyone. The two of them would meet for lunch every so often.

“He knew just about everything about business journalism,” he said.

Madeline Will is a native of Charlotte, N.C., and a journalism major in the Class of 2014 at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

Mark Haines

By Max Miceli

With his jacket unbuttoned and red tie exposed for all to see, Mark Haines took off his glasses and leaned on the left arm of his chair toward his co-anchor Erin Burnett during CNBC’s “Squawk on the Street” on March 10, 2009, in the middle of the recession.

Speaking with a conversational tone that almost encouraged viewers to speak back at him through the TV, the late anchor remarked with confidence, “I’m going to step out on a limb here… I think we’re at a bottom. I really do.”

“I think we’re going to have a rally,” Haines said. “In other words, I think today this is for real.”

And he was right. The market began a rally that has continued five years later.

Haines, who had been with CNBC since 1989 and helped make the network what it is today, wasn’t just making a random guess. Citing his research and conceding possible refutations, Haines assured viewers in a way that only he could.

It was Haines’ in-depth research and genuine care for investors that helped make analysts such as Jim Cramer, who admits to taking the “what would Mark Haines do?” approach when he searches for answers to economic phenomena.

“That’s was him at his best,” Cramer said in a 2013 episode of “Mad Money.” “He recognized that things had gotten out of hand… He had his totems.”

“(His research) is what made him so darn sure of himself.”

As someone who’s seen Haines at his best, Cramer knows that sometimes the key to helping give investors advice is to approach analysis with the same skepticism and rigor as Haines did.

It was that true craving for the truth and knowledge in clutch moments that made Haines not only a great researcher but also an unflappable and highly demanding interviewer.

“Mark was really at his best in times of crisis,” Sanford Cannold, former supervising producer of “Squawk on the Street,” said. “On an ordinary day Mark might not have been his best.

“But Mark was kind of a playoff player.”

It was that clutch gene that allowed Haines to be relentless when asking questions in interviews where he demanded respect — and answers.

“A lot of anchors today are scared to ask the tough questions in an interview. That was Mark’s hallmark,” said Darren Rovell, who started working for CNBC as a sports business reporter in 2006. “The guy was completely fearless and didn’t shy away from asking the blunt question.

“That’s what made him the Everyman that he was.”

Rovell added that this bluntness gave Haines a knack for stealing the show on occasion. Simply put, Haines had a knack for the theater of television.

“I’ll never forget when I interviewed Mets executive Dave Howard on Opening Day at CitiField,” Rovell said. “In the middle of the interview, the producer says in my ear that Mark wants to ask a question.

“The next thing I know, Mark, who was a big Mets fan, is telling Dave Howard how much the team stinks live on our air.”

That was Haines. He loved his Mets. He loved his kids. He loved lacrosse. He loved his nicknames.

That was how you knew you were in with him. From David Faber, “the Brain” to Sandy Cannold “Sandman,” Haines was never slow to come up with a nickname for a colleague or even compliment them on air.

When they looked good, so did he. That was his philosophy.

So one could imagine that, when long-time co-anchor Burnett decided to leave for CNN in May 2011 after years of sitting next to Haines, it was tough to leave the always-authentic catalyst of CNBC without a teary goodbye.

“The day before Erin’s last show I told Mark, ‘You should prepare for Erin to cry,’” Cannold said.

“You’re crazy Sandman,” Haines replied. “She’s not going to cry.”

And as the show came toward its end, Haines’ predict seemed to be coming to fruition.

With relative composure, Burnett recalled her time with Haines handing him small sentimental trinkets as gifts to remind him of the time they spent together in hopes that she could maybe find a way to repay the man she claimed taught her everything.

Before she could give a final word, before she could say goodbye, Haines did what Haines does.

Taking Burnett’s hand, he stole the show.

“Coming to work for the last five and a half years has been an absolute joy,” Haines said on air for all the viewers to see. “You’re the best… We’re going to miss you a lot.

“…I’m going to go home and cry.”

Not much later in that month, on May 24, 2011, Haines died unexpectedly of congestive heart failure in his home at age 65.

The following day there was a moment of silence on the trading room floor in honor of the man who demanded respect from guests and always fought for his audience’s money in a theatrical manner.

Haines was gone, but the lessons he left for the Cramer’s and Burnett’s of the world stayed.

And Cramer quite possible portrayed that sentiment in the most concise yet accurate way possible in a statement published the day after Haines’ death on CNBC.com.

“He was the standard.”

Max Miceli is a High Point, N.C., native and business journalism major in the Class of 2015 at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

John Dierdorff

By George Verity

With the gentle touch of an iron pen, the epitome of business journalism in the 1900s was transcended by no other than Jack Dierdorff, a man whose journalism career lasted more than seven decades.

Forever known to his colleagues as the editor who never took off his suit jacket or to loosen his tie, the formality of Dierdorff’s presences was never mistaken for nothing less than friendly and supportive — an anomaly among editors .

“Different from any editor I had before, Jack wasn’t rough around the edges — he was refined,” said Joseph Weber, an associate professor of journalism at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln and former colleague at BusinessWeek. “His style was very gentlemen like. In his memos, Jack consistently used the word ‘kindly’ to end each note to reporters regarding any suggestions or corrections.”

Dierdorff’s innate ability to value the integrity of journalists and a higher standard of accountability stems from a long commitment to journalism.  Dierdorff’s journalism career began at a small weekly newspaper he created in Portland, Ore., before ending as a consulting editor with the online edition of BusinessWeek.

In 1949, Dierdorff graduated from Yale and returned to Portland as a reporter.  Dierdorff later became the assistant editor of The Oregonian newspaper. Dierdorff joined BusinessWeek in 1956 and was managing editor at the time of his retirement in 1993.

“Jack was a commanding presence at BusinessWeek,” said Sarah Bartlett, dean of the CUNY Graduate School of Journalism and a former BusinessWeek staffer. “He was the one who everyone went to when they had an ethical dilemma.  He held himself to very high standards and that made everyone around him aspire to meet them as well.”

According to Steve Shepard, former dean at CUNY Graduate School of Journalism and former editor-in-chief of BusinessWeek, Dierdorff was the editor of the front-of-the book section – the 10 pages of news stories that ran near the front of the magazine that were the last to close every week when he started at the magazine.  Shepard noted Dierdorff responsibilities were to solicit story ideas from the staff, then nurture the stories along in phone calls and meetings, and finally edit the stories, pick the pictures, brainstorm the charts and graphs.

“He stayed late every Tuesday night and barely had time to breathe all day Wednesday as everything came together,” said Shepard. “To a kid like me, he was a teacher, a gentleman, and a role model.  I couldn’t imagine anyone better to work with.”

Shepard added that his decision to come back to BusinessWeek later in his career was because of Dierdorff.  Together as editor-in-chief and managing editor in the 1980s, respectively, Shepard and Dierdorff transformed BusinessWeek into a top-notch business journalism publication with a readership that grew to more than 6 million.

“Shepard had the vision, and Jack got things done,” said Weber.  “Jack acted as the bridge for BusinessWeek.”

Bartlett added Dierdorff was apolitical and only interested in the betterment of the magazine.  He was unflappable in the midst of deadline pressure.

“He could always weigh the pros and cons of a situation with precision and come down on the side of right,” Bartlett noted.  “He made it seem effortless, but his ability to navigate thorny problems with such equanimity was impressive.”

Dierdorff who in 1987 testified that McGraw-Hill suspected a leak in of the “Inside Wall Street” column, prompted a review of security procedures of the company’s publication in which he worked for — BusinessWeek.

“Sometimes, it fell to Jack to be the tough cop,” said Shepard.

According to Shepard, Dierdorff contacted him in August 1988, while he was on a trip to Los Angeles.  Shepard said Dierdorff received a phone call from the New York Stock Exchange with information implicating the magazine’s radio broadcaster, Rudy Ruderman, in insider trading.

Shepard said Dierdorff confronted Ruderman, who denied the accusations despite the evidence.  However, Dierdorff fired Ruderman, and a few months later, Ruderman pleaded guilty to illegal insider trading and was sentenced to six months in jail.

After the McGraw-Hill scandal, Dierdorff received the 1992 Elliot Bell Award from the New York Financial Writers’ Association.  Dierdorff then served as a consultant for 15 years, helping the magazine develop its online strategy.

“For a wordsmith who cherished the printed page, Jack was remarkably adept at embracing technological change,” said Shepard.  “He helped oversee the pioneering Atex editing system that BusinessWeek adopted in the early 1980s.”

“He was willing to embrace technology and throw himself into the deep end,” said Bartlett. “Very few people would have been so open to that exploration.”

Shepard said Dierdorff was a product of a bygone era.

“I prefer to think that the integrity and values he stood for are really eternal verities, the sort of things we should all aspire to,” said Shepard.  “I was proud to be his friend and colleague for so many years.  For all of us, he remains a living paragon, an example for the ages.”

Dierdorff died Aug. 8, 2013, at the Baptist Home in Rhinebeck after a long illness. He was 85. Jack’s friend and partner of over 40 years, Alonzo Smith Jr., died in 2011. Dierdorff is survived by his brother David Dierdorff and sister-in-law Madeleine Lefebvre, of Juneau, AK; two nieces; a nephew; and 10 great-nieces and great-nephews.

George Verity is a native of Bay Shore, N.Y., and a public relations major in the Class of 2014 at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

Jerry Heaster

By Kelci Hight

Jerry Heaster had a nose for news, real news.

In 2006, he became the fourth recipient of the Society of American Business Editors and Writers President’s Award for his longstanding commitment to excellence in business journalism.

Heaster served as the society’s president at a time when journalism, specifically business journalism, was struggling. He was given a roster of 150 members, but found that only a third were interested in being involved.

“SABEW owes him and our other early leaders a great debt for their vision to see the need of educating workers to our craft,” said Jonathan Lansner, former SABEW president.

Today, thanks to modern communication conveniences, the society has a roster of more than3,500 members, a number that would make Heaster proud. The organization was important to him for its sense of community.

He once said one reason he was attracted to SABEW was that business journalists had no place to learn the craft. “Business was a backwater in those days,” said Hester. “If you were the kind of person who wanted to do your job well, you had almost no place to turn for help. SABEW changed that.”

He was born as Gerald David Heaster in the traditional West Virginia home of Gerald and Virginia Heaster on May 10,1938. He graduated from South Charleston High School in 1956 and immediately enlisted in the Army.

While he was stationed in South Korea, Heaster worked for the Pacific Stars & Stripes. When he was honorably discharged, he chose to remain in the Far East and began working for the Okinawa Morning Star.

The Morning Star was the daily newspaper that English-speakers relied on in the Far East. Heaster held many positions there, ranging from news editor to out-on-the-town society columnist. After marrying and having two children in Okinawa, he returned to the United States and began working on the business desk at The Journal Herald in Dayton, Ohio.

In 1979, he was hired as a business editor for the Kansas City Star. By 1990, he was writing his own column full-time.

Heaster was, as they say, a “consummate professional,” according to his Kansas City Star co-worker, Keith Chrostowski. “He was always even-keeled and polite to all his readers and colleagues.” Heaster had a broad following and kept each letter he received. Once a year at Christmas, he would publicly thank his readers.

Heaster elevated The Star’s business coverage at a crucial time for the newspaper. The Baby Boomer generation was maturing and paying closer attention to the economy.

Chrostowski says he most admired Heaster for always coming up with three columns a week. “Even when retreading familiar ground,” he said. “He was always able to provide fresh insights.”

Heaster thought of himself as a local reporter and was humbled that SABEW would honor his work, but many agreed that his column extended beyond Kansas.

“I have just loved this job, and working with the people in this business,” Heaster said when accepting his award in 2006. “I never did this for recognition, but SABEW’s decision to honor me is unexpected and wonderful.”

In his 27-year career, Heaster wrote 5,000 columns. He won both critics and fans for his unwavering support of the free market and conservative ideals, but he held disdain for the label. It was too simplistic.

Heaster is remembered for his willingness to listen and help educate others. “He was always ready to help less experienced business reporters decipher earnings reports or explain complex topics simply,” said Chrostowski.

He personally influenced Chrostowski by helping him to realize that business and economic coverage is a vital part of the newspaper and a worthy career path, something Heaster believed to his core.

Beyond business reporting, his interests included reading, drinking, listening to good country music and playing golf. In 2000, he published, “Jerry Heaster’s Guide to Kansas City Golf.”

He was a man who pursued his passions.

Heaster suffered a long illness that included esophageal cancer and non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. He didn’t request a memorial service and in lieu flowers, the family suggested contributions to SABEW.

Randy Smith was Heaster’s boss and president of SABEW in 1992. He told the society that he remembers Jerry buried behind a newspaper, back in the days when everything was in print, the days before the Internet.

“Jerry represented an era that has since passed us by,” Smith said. “But he continues to inspire us.”

Kelci Hight is a native of Raleigh, N.C., and a broadcast and electronic journalism major in the Class of 2015 at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

Dick Turpin

By Chelsey Dulaney

Most people remember Dick Turpin as a pioneer of real estate reporting; a jovial, welcoming editor; a vestige of old-school journalism.

Tales of his savvy abound: He did, after all, transform The Los Angeles Times’ real estate section from an advertising insert to a massive weekly editorial section, sometimes 50 to 60 pages long — and in doing so, changed what real estate sections looked like at newspapers across the country.

The Times’ Sunday section was named the best in the country three times under his leadership and was consistently ranked in the top five by the National Association of Real Estate Editors.

But what most people won’t tell you is that Turpin was also something of a fashion icon.

When Turpin was real estate editor at The Times — a position he held for 22 years — the men’s fashion trend of the time was to wear a long-sleeved shirt and tie to work. In the Los Angeles heat, this ensemble could be oppressive.

“He boldly decided to wear a tie with a short-sleeved shirt,” said Lauren Beale, who worked as a real estate reporter under Turpin from 1980 to 1983. “By showing up to work like that, other men thought, ‘Oh I could do that.’”

He wasn’t always “Turpin,” as most of his reporters and co-workers came to know him. Born in Turkey in 1919 as Dick Tarpinian, he changed his last name early in his journalism career.

After serving in the Marines during World War II, Turpin worked as the city editor at the Burbank Daily Review before he was hired by The Los Angeles Times in 1948 as a reporter-photographer.

He would spend 41 years — the rest of his career — at The Times, where he worked as a reporter, education editor and, finally, as real estate editor.

When he took the position in 1967, Turpin had no background in real estate journalism. But he brought with him a range of accolades, among them a Pulitzer Prize in 1966 for local reporting.

He was tasked with taking the section, essentially an advertorial, from the advertising department and infusing it with independent coverage by publisher Otis Chandler, who was leading a transformation of his own.

Chandler served as The Times’ publisher from 1960 to 1980 and oversaw its expansion from a business-to-business publication to a consumer-focused newspaper with broad coverage areas.

“It was a natural following,” said Beale, who writes The Times’ celebrity real estate column today. “Let’s have editorial independence because we can. Let’s offer different subjects that people are interested in.”

On Turpin’s real estate desk, these old and new perspectives came together.

Turpin had a staff of seven — unheard of for a real estate section at that time — and together they produced a massive weekly section. The section was mostly comprised of press releases sent in by local real estate agents and groups, but also showcased feature-length cover stories.

It made perfect business sense: an independent editorial section allowed The Times to charge a premium for ads while also giving increasingly-savvy readers more content to engage with.

“That section got so big, at one point, we had a 64-page section — and that’s broadsheet,” Beale said. “It was pretty remarkable. It was a heyday for selling real estate ads.”

On the other side of the country, Lew Sichelman was the real estate editor of the Washington Daily News and later, The Washington Star. He, too, took part in this shift in real estate journalism.

“I don’t think it was a conscious shift by newspapers,” said Sichelman, who now writes a real estate column for United Feature Syndicate. “I think it was the guys who were in the trenches — Turpin, me — we all started turning it back into what newspapers were at that time.”

Evelyn De Wolfe, 91, worked on Turpin’s real estate section for 12 years and became its unofficial architecture expert.

“We were always getting recognition,” she said. “I think one of the reasons, quite frankly, is because he invited his staff to generate ideas. I think that’s the big secret. Sometimes he’d say ‘Come on in here, I want to ask you your opinion,’ which is rare among editors.”

Turpin retired in 1989 and in 2008, The Times’ real estate section folded. He died in December 2010 at the age of 91.

De Wolfe remembers the time she spent working under Turpin as the golden years of journalism.

“We were very close and enjoyed journalism so much, especially in those days,” she said. “We didn’t have cell phones or anything else. We just had our typewriters and boy, we better get it in by deadline.”

Robert Nichols

By Scott Sewell

Robert “Bob” Nichols is most notably known for his tenure at the Los Angeles Times from 1961 to 1968 as the financial editor.

Nichols believed Los Angeles would become home to major businesses and financial centers, similar to New York. He helped improve the Times financial section to attract and cover businesses in the area. Because of his commitment to Los Angeles, Nichols successfully enhanced the quality and breadth of the financial section, placing the Times in the national contention for premium financial information.

While working for the Times, Nichols won the Loeb Award in 1964 for his exceptional financial reporting, presented by the University of Connecticut (since 1973, the University of California, Los Angeles presents the award).

Nichols won the award for a multi-part series, “Price of Security.” The series reported on the large price the United States had to pay for security during the Cold War. Nichols said, “But inevitably, these human situations — to be understood or appraised economically — must be translated into man power, money and — motivation.”

At the beginning of his tenure at the Times, Nichols wrote majority of his articles on companies and industries in southern California and the West Coast.

He covered chemical sales, electronic components and blue chips, airline manufacturers and the hopeful computer industry. However, Nichols shifted his writings to cover more national financial news. Stories about the gold policy for the United States, world trade, international affects on business and the Federal Reserve dominated Nichols’ stories in his last two years at the Times.

Although he continued to publish some California-specific articles scattered in his latter years, Nichols’ transition from regional to national reporting shows he was successful in building a national following and expanding the financial section, becoming a major financial section for economic coverage.

Additionally, Nichols was a founder of the Society of American Business Writers in 1964, and became the organization’s president in 1967. Being one of the founders and figureheads, Nichols was instrumental in developing the organization to its current size and credibility that it maintains today.

The organization, now known as the Society of American Business Editors and Writers, was founded to emphasize exceptional business and economic coverage. It currently has more than 3,000 members.

Myron Kandel, founding financial editor of CNN and former SABEW president, said Nichols helped to begin formulating SABEW’s Code of Ethics, the first code of ethics for a specialized journalism organization.

After leaving the Times in 1968, Nichols worked at the Federal Reserve as a special assistant to the Board of Governors.

He left the Fed in 1970 and took the director of editorial services at Bank of America. In 1973, Nichols was promoted to director of public relations at Bank of America, where he recommended the bank to publish its Corporate Disclosure Code, an unheard move at the time in the world of commerce. Nichols served as public relations director until he retired in 1985.

Nichols was born in 1925 in Daytona Beach, Fla. He moved to the West Coast when he attended San Diego State University and became involved in local journalism organizations.

In 1996, Nichols died from cancer at the age of 71 in San Francisco, Calif.

During his brief interactions with Nichols, Kandel remembered him being a great guy to be around and a well-respected journalist.

Kandel said Nichols was “one of the outstanding business editors of his time.”

Scott Sewell is a native of Wilmington, N.C., and a business journalism major in the Class of 2015 at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

John Curran

By Nick Shchetko

When Richard Teitelbaum, an investigative financial journalist, was drafting a plan to visit his old friend and colleague John Curran on the first Saturday of August 2013, he didn’t know it was not destined to happen.

John Jude Curran, 59, a prominent business journalist and editor, passed away July 5, 2013, at his home in Weston, Conn. He was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis in May 2012.

Curran was born in the Bronx, New York, on Nov. 21, 1953. He graduated from Bard College in 1975, with a bachelor’s degree in languages and literature. Curran started his career at the Wall Street Transcript, but is best known for work at Fortune, the magazine he joined in 1978.

In more than a three-decade career span, Curran wrote himself and directed coverage of business, investing and finance for Mutual Funds magazine, Fortune and Time.com, to name a few.

Curran was also appearing extensively on television, as a business commentator on the “NBC News at Sunrise” television program. He left Time Inc. to join Bloomberg News in late 2010 as a senior writer for Bloomberg Markets magazine. His most recent position was news director at Bloomberg.com.

Curran excelled in coverage of international markets. He won the Overseas Press Club Award for Japan coverage, and a Time Inc. Luce Award for commissioning and publishing a story on the threat of global terrorism coming to the US, half a year before 9/11 attack.

Andy Serwer, managing editor of Fortune, who worked with Curran in 1980s and 1990s, said that “John was a very smart … and creative guy.”

“Sometimes you would think of creativity is being a great cellist … but journalist can be creative too, and he was,” Serwer said. “He would really study and find new ways to cover investing and Wall Street, and so, he was very creative that way.”

Curran realized the importance of Eugene Fama’s work on markets and asset pricing before it became a hot topic and long before 2013, when Fama became a Nobel Prize laureate. “John was sure very early on discovering the importance of this work,” Serwer said.

“A rare journalist. Great intelligence, great integrity, great wordsmith,” said Steven Mintz, financial writer and author, who remained in touch with Curran for almost two decades.

As the editor, Curran was tough and demanding, his colleagues agree.

“He was … a somewhat overbearing boss, to be frank,” said Teitelbaum, who started worked with Curran in 1989 at Fortune.

He had a “good bullshit detector,” said Serwer. “When you were trying to like coast or get by, he’d picked up on it right away and call you on it.”

John Huey, the former editor-in-chief of Time Inc., who worked with Curran in Fortune, in a comment to Bloomberg said that “John … never took the cheap route to a conclusion or a story.”

“He was famously inflexible with deadlines,” said Teitelbaum. “To the point where you’d be there at 12.30 at night and he’d say: “I need that when I come in at 7.”

Curran was “an inextricable workaholic” with “a little bit of machismo,” Teitelbaum said. He recalled that once after appendicitis operation, Curran was back in the office on the next day.

“John was driven … Sometimes people, you know, go through the motions, I wouldn’t say that ever about him,” said Serwer.

Ruchika Tulshyan, who interned at Time in the summer of 2010, said that despite she was one of the youngest interns, Curran noticed her passion for business writing and encouraged her to pitch stories.

“He would work with me tirelessly to polish my ideas,” said Tulshyan. By the end of her internship, she said that one of her business stories became the most read story of the month on Time.com.

“He gave me a chance at a time when many editors just viewed interns as rotating summer help … He continues to be the benchmark when I work with editors,” said Tulshyan.

While tough as the boss, “John the friend and father was warm, funny, emotional and fiercely loyal,” said Rik Kirkland in a comment to WestportNow. Kirkland, now with McKinsey, joined Fortune with Curran in the fall of 1978.

Teitelbaum recalls that when he was diagnosed with leukemia in 1994, Curran became supportive: “he came down with a colleague and visited me the first day there.”

“He was a brilliant, well-respected finance writer who had studied drama at Bard, favored khakis and tennis shoes, and admitted with amusement that his own finances were a mess. You just had to love him, and everybody did,” said Nancy Perry Graham, his lifelong friend and former colleague at Fortune.

“Nobody made me laugh harder than John. His ability to pinpoint the absurdities of life, with a wry, clever aside, was unequaled,” she said.

Curran is survived by his wife, Joan, and their four children: Alissa, Alexandra, Joanna, and John Richard Curran.

“If ever two people were perfect for each other, it was John and Joan,” said Graham.

Family was immensely important to Curran. “He was spending an enormous amount of time … with his siblings, his extended family. It seemed to be a really happy big Irish family,” said Teitelbaum.

In January 2013 Curran wrote in a short piece for AARP.org that his diagnosis didn’t make him unhappy: “At its core, my happiness rests on a spiritual life, a sense of purpose and — oh, yes — a sense of humor. In this life, where beauty fades, wealth wreaks more havoc than happiness and death awaits us all, if you can’t laugh about the journey’s ups and downs, you’ll fret. And who wants to worry?”

Nick Shchetko is a journalist from Belarus who has been covering technology companies in print and online media since 2001. A Muskie Fellow, Nick is working on his master’s degree in Mass Communication from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.