A Voice That Yearned to Be Heard

A Voice that Yearned to Be Heard

Laurie Fowler

My dad loved words and loved language and loved reading and loved storytelling. His dream was to be a college professor, but his life took a turn when he found the exciting world of newspapering. “They pay me to read the paper,“ he boasted, after securing a copy editor’s position.

His was a voice that yearned to be heard.

My dad moved on from being a copy editor to a reporter to managing editor to editor and publisher to vice president of a publishing company. However, he would always wait until the deadline loomed to finish his writing because being pushed to finish and being pushed to be a better writer was a part of him that couldn’t be undone.

 His was a voice that yearned to be heard.

With a passion for life, community, and justice, my dad chose precise words, constructed lyrical sentences, and wrote eloquent paragraphs that became stories, columns, and editorials.

His was a voice that yearned to be heard.

My dad was a man who wrote his opinion in editorial pages when it wasn’t popular-- about the death penalty, government corruption at the local and state level, why he was a yellow dog democrat in a very red state. 

His was a voice that yearned to be heard.

My dad stood up for what was right even if it cost him a job, or made him unpopular, or made him vulnerable. His was a voice for the downtrodden or wronged.

His was a voice that yearned to be heard.

My dad’s columns were love letters to his family. Birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, really family celebrations of all kinds were his subject matter and we were his characters.  His insightful words told stories of our family’s triumphs and challenges focusing on what really mattered.

His was a voice that yearned to be heard.

My dad had a great American novel in his brain, but his lungs gave out too quickly for him to write it. The world is less vibrant without the stories he had to tell. 

His was a voice that yearned to be heard.