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.”