Gaining confidence

Gaining confidence

At first, Virginia quaked in her size four shoes when she began working in the newsroom. She could barely type, didn’t know shorthand and didn’t particularly like to file (so her boss Buster Haas did that himself).

The distinguished newspaper management in her office were often imposing. But with time, she began to relax. Still, she sometimes made mistakes. Like the time she burst into a closed-door meeting to tell the editors that the King of Prussia was calling. I mean, royalty is royalty. Although the caller was from a local pastry shop, Virginia’s error got a good laugh.

The center of things
She also liked being the first to know about breaking news and she was often at The News when history was being made. She was there during the president’s fateful visit to Dallas, the glory days of Cowboys football (and the sportswriters gave her the inside scoop) and the Oswald killing.

She also saw celebrities like Carol Channing when they visited The News for publicity interviews. And she made poor Andy Griffith write her mother a long note while he waited for a reporter.

And as she interacted with the reporters (some of the smartest people she knew and also the funniest), and not only survived but was accepted, she began to grow in confidence. Pre-J.B. Bennett, like she was in Marshall, Missouri. Things were looking up.

From a safe to a scary world

From a safe to a scary world

“In my day, there were grass widows and there were sod widows. I was a grass widow. My grandfather went to his grave not knowing I was divorced.” – Virginia Bennett

Simple, happy times

During her growing-up years in tiny Marshall, Missouri, Virginia admits she was the “silliest thing ever.” She never studied but instead concentrated on clothes, dancing and boys. She was pinned five times. And she married J.B. Bennett because he was “good-looking, had a great car and was a good dancer.”

J.B. was a traveling salesman who, it turned out, “did everything you hear traveling salesmen do.” She was a proud young woman whose family disapproved of her marriage so she did everything she could to make it work. In the end she left J.B., not knowing anything about her future except she wanted out. After her marriage went south, so did she.



Welcome to Dallas, the 1950s working world


Never did she think she’d be a working woman, much less a divorced one with two young daughters. Her first job was at Delta Airlines as a ticket agent. “I had no idea what I was doing and that part never changed. I’m sure there are still people flying around up there because of what I did wrong.” In today’s parlance: Not a good fit.

Her second job was at The Dallas Morning News, a major metropolitan daily right up from the grassy knoll. At work, she kept to herself, not wanting to explain her shameful status of divorcee. “All I did was work and raise kids. I’d work on Sundays at The News to make ends meet. My parents, my sister (divorced with two kids) and the three of us shared one apartment.” She didn’t care about dating, outside activities or anything else. She was bone tired.

But things got better. She opened up a bit to strangers. She made casual friends at The News and did well in the Petty Ledger department. Passed over and moving on But when a promotion she should have received went to a man, she applied for a secretarial job in the newsroom and got it.

Her bosses in Petty Ledger told her she’d be back – she’d hate the big, bad newsroom. They didn’t know: you don’t tell Virginia Bennett what she cannot do. And even if she hated her new job, no way was she going back. Her pride wouldn’t let her.

Why Virginia Bennett and why this blog?

If you know Virginia Bennett, you know that she is blog-worthy.

I met Virginia Bennett at my first “real” (meaning, post-college) job, The Dallas Morning News, in Dallas, Texas. That means I have known Virginia Bennett for more than 20 years and she is still one of the most memorable, funny, warm, wise, engaging people I have ever known. Oh, and this is important: Virginia Lysbeth Weaver Bennett will be 90 years old in October 2009.

Back in the day
When Virginia (retiring) and I (another job) left The News in the ‘80s, I worked with co-workers to make her a scrapbook. This was pre-scrapbooking craze days but it was still a pretty nifty little book. It contained photos (even Polaroids) and best wishes from co-workers as well as a collection of things unique to Virginia: her priceless expressions (“She’s as common as pig tracks”), list of her zany mishaps through the years and sage advice, mainly to heartbroken young women.

Can blog equal scrapbook?
She loves that book but it’s falling apart. That’s why I want to use this blog to record my thoughts and memories of her and then open it to others for the same. If you know old-style newsroom people, you know they are hard to impress. But even in the hard-drinking, foul-mouthed City Room of the ‘70s, ‘80s and before, our Virginia made an impression. She was loved, laughed at, admired and even treasured.

I want this to be Virginia’s 90th birthday present. And no, she’s not online. But I can always print stuff out.