Editor

At about sixteen years of age I became a newspaper editor.

I don't remember how I got the job but it might have been connected to some other elected office of the Luther League--I remember being Secretary, Treasurer, Vice-President and even President at different times. (Frankly, there wasn't a lot of competition.)

The newspaper was the official publication of the Rocky Mountain Synod Luther League and my task was to find content, write stories and print a couple hundred copies and distribute them monthly in batches or individually to the few far-flung Evangelical Lutheran churches from El Paso, Texas to Casper, Wyoming.

As Editor, first you had to find something to write about--like election results for the local Luther League or parties or the Annual Synod-wide Summer Youth Camp--and write the story, but then the real work started because the Editor of the Luther League newspaper was also the entire production staff.

To justify the  rows of type into neat orderly columns like a real newspaper, you had to count the letters and make sure you didn't have too many or two few in a column. This was all done by hand and eye, of course. Computers would not be invented for years.

You had to "cut" stencils with the typewriter and put them into a mimeograph machine and crank the handle until you had the number of copies you wanted--and be sure to check the fluid to make sure the machine doesn't run dry.

The final product was a two or three page stapled-together document on possibly colored letter paper.

Cool, but much too much labor for a sixteen-year-old boy with other fish to fry so I always missed my deadline which meant a scolding from my boss Bunny K., the President of the Rocky Mountain Luther League.

I thought Bunny was very cute. She was a year or two older than me and ran with a faster group of kids. She dressed in fitted western-style shirts with  fancy yokes and pearl buttons and always wore skin-tight Levis set off by a wide hand-tooled leather belt with a silver buckle and "Bunny" tooled large on the back.

Every time Bunny saw me--and I tried to stay away from her as much as I could--I would get a cold scolding for something or other--the paper's content, style or just that it was late again.

The lofty name of the paper was "The Crusader" and my happiest day as Editor was the day my year- long term  expired.

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