Hugh Smith, who anchored the local evening news on Tampa's WTVT for almost 30 years, died Sunday. I'm a little pissed at him about that.
Hugh and I talked on the phone regularly for the last 15 years. Though he had been in treatment for stage four melanoma (a deadly form of cancer) for about ten months he never said a word to me about it during our monthly telephone conversations that usually lasted at least an hour.
We always talked about the TV business, speculated on how long it would be before Katie Couric would be relegated to doing voiceovers for Saturday morning cartoon programs, discussed personnel changes at Tampa area broadcast outlets and reflected on times past. I had lots of chances to ask him about things he did when I worked for him that I really didn't understand. Some of the reasons he related I believed, others I took for a lapse in his memory.
I grew to become very fond of the post-broadcast Hugh Smith. That he never once discussed his illness torks me. But then again he was a very private person and held some things private even from his good friends. That doesn't make me any less peeved.
My first meeting with Hugh took place in 1965. A high school student, I walked into the newsroom at WTVT on a Saturday in March with a Bolex 16mm movie camera I had borrowed from a friend. I had shot several stories for his 6p.m. newscast after arranging to be accepted as a stringer at the station. He accepted me graciously. All alone in the small newsroom, he seemed very happy to have company. I couldn't go far because once I got off the city bus in front of the station there I was stuck for an hour or so until another passed going the other direction. Hugh thought I had a car...haha!
He was very respectful to this pimple-faced teenager who knew almost nothing about writing a TV news script and only slightly more about shooting film. He took the time to teach me about panning, cut shots, in-camera editing and all the things he felt I needed to know to make my life as a stringer easier...and his as an anchor easier as well. Being around him felt good. He knew I only got paid fifty cents per foot of film used so he lengthened my scripts a bit to ensure me some profit. Thirty second stories equaled about 18 feet of film.
After three or four months at WTVT, I moved over to WFLA. It was closer to downtown where I had more of a choice of buses and they came more often. It was also near The Tampa Tribune, for which I served as free lance photographer. Later I went on staff full time.
Once while I was working at The Tampa Tribune, he called and asked me to come see him. He offered me a job making a lot more money than I was getting at the paper. Hell yeah Hugh, I'll come to work for you. I'd love to be a big TV news star! I went back to the paper and told my managing editor, Doyle Harville, about the offer and that I was giving my two-week notice. He wouldn't have it. Doyle asked me what I was being offered, I told him, and he matched it plus a few dollars to make up for the fact that I was giving up TV stardom.
Harville pissed me off at that point because he had always poor mouthed the paper when I started talking money. Now I was fixing to leave to become a big time TV newsman and suddenly money's gushing out the elevator. I called Hugh and told him I had to rescind my acceptance of the job and explained that I just couldn't leave the paper. He got mad....real, real mad. He thought I had simply used his offer to negotiate a better deal at the newspaper. He didn't talk to me for a number of years. Time does heal.
Years later after I had graduated college and left the newspaper business, he was once again gracious to me. I never understood why some in the newsroom squirmed when he came near, others were fearful of him and some just did their jobs and avoided contact with him. On the other side of the spectrum, there were those who stood up to him and who challenged him and his authority. They always lost.
I remember one day in 1978 we came into the newsroom and learned he had fired our beloved assignment editor (Chip Collins) and another top banana or two. He said he wanted a new newsroom backbone and the firings were backed by station management. The entire news department was shaken by the loss of friends...and by the inexplicable action Hugh had taken. It was explained to us in a meeting but to this day few of us totally understand his reasoning.
One of our conversations before his death was about that incident. He was too weak to recall much detail. I still didn't get many answers. He couldn't say much between coughs. I asked him if he was OK and he said he had a bad cold. Bull shxt, Hugh. You were fixing to croak on me.
He was my good friend. I simply can't understand why somebody who I had known very well for most of my lifetime would not at least help me prepare for what was going to happen. If you're around here somewhere, Hugh, I can forgive you for a lot of things but...... I guess you are entitled to your privacy and you have it now. Hell, your family's being tight lipped about funeral or memorial service arrangements. Maybe you just wanted to skip that part. OK, have it your way!
We'll miss you.
Hugh and I talked on the phone regularly for the last 15 years. Though he had been in treatment for stage four melanoma (a deadly form of cancer) for about ten months he never said a word to me about it during our monthly telephone conversations that usually lasted at least an hour.
We always talked about the TV business, speculated on how long it would be before Katie Couric would be relegated to doing voiceovers for Saturday morning cartoon programs, discussed personnel changes at Tampa area broadcast outlets and reflected on times past. I had lots of chances to ask him about things he did when I worked for him that I really didn't understand. Some of the reasons he related I believed, others I took for a lapse in his memory.
I grew to become very fond of the post-broadcast Hugh Smith. That he never once discussed his illness torks me. But then again he was a very private person and held some things private even from his good friends. That doesn't make me any less peeved.
My first meeting with Hugh took place in 1965. A high school student, I walked into the newsroom at WTVT on a Saturday in March with a Bolex 16mm movie camera I had borrowed from a friend. I had shot several stories for his 6p.m. newscast after arranging to be accepted as a stringer at the station. He accepted me graciously. All alone in the small newsroom, he seemed very happy to have company. I couldn't go far because once I got off the city bus in front of the station there I was stuck for an hour or so until another passed going the other direction. Hugh thought I had a car...haha!
He was very respectful to this pimple-faced teenager who knew almost nothing about writing a TV news script and only slightly more about shooting film. He took the time to teach me about panning, cut shots, in-camera editing and all the things he felt I needed to know to make my life as a stringer easier...and his as an anchor easier as well. Being around him felt good. He knew I only got paid fifty cents per foot of film used so he lengthened my scripts a bit to ensure me some profit. Thirty second stories equaled about 18 feet of film.
After three or four months at WTVT, I moved over to WFLA. It was closer to downtown where I had more of a choice of buses and they came more often. It was also near The Tampa Tribune, for which I served as free lance photographer. Later I went on staff full time.
Once while I was working at The Tampa Tribune, he called and asked me to come see him. He offered me a job making a lot more money than I was getting at the paper. Hell yeah Hugh, I'll come to work for you. I'd love to be a big TV news star! I went back to the paper and told my managing editor, Doyle Harville, about the offer and that I was giving my two-week notice. He wouldn't have it. Doyle asked me what I was being offered, I told him, and he matched it plus a few dollars to make up for the fact that I was giving up TV stardom.
Harville pissed me off at that point because he had always poor mouthed the paper when I started talking money. Now I was fixing to leave to become a big time TV newsman and suddenly money's gushing out the elevator. I called Hugh and told him I had to rescind my acceptance of the job and explained that I just couldn't leave the paper. He got mad....real, real mad. He thought I had simply used his offer to negotiate a better deal at the newspaper. He didn't talk to me for a number of years. Time does heal.
Years later after I had graduated college and left the newspaper business, he was once again gracious to me. I never understood why some in the newsroom squirmed when he came near, others were fearful of him and some just did their jobs and avoided contact with him. On the other side of the spectrum, there were those who stood up to him and who challenged him and his authority. They always lost.
I remember one day in 1978 we came into the newsroom and learned he had fired our beloved assignment editor (Chip Collins) and another top banana or two. He said he wanted a new newsroom backbone and the firings were backed by station management. The entire news department was shaken by the loss of friends...and by the inexplicable action Hugh had taken. It was explained to us in a meeting but to this day few of us totally understand his reasoning.
One of our conversations before his death was about that incident. He was too weak to recall much detail. I still didn't get many answers. He couldn't say much between coughs. I asked him if he was OK and he said he had a bad cold. Bull shxt, Hugh. You were fixing to croak on me.
He was my good friend. I simply can't understand why somebody who I had known very well for most of my lifetime would not at least help me prepare for what was going to happen. If you're around here somewhere, Hugh, I can forgive you for a lot of things but...... I guess you are entitled to your privacy and you have it now. Hell, your family's being tight lipped about funeral or memorial service arrangements. Maybe you just wanted to skip that part. OK, have it your way!
We'll miss you.
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