by Mark Silva
Today is Frank James' last day here.
For any understanding of how much we will miss him, you must know how much he has done for us - both at the Chicago Tribune and Tribune's D.C. bureau and here in the Swamp - and what sort of friend he is.
Frank (pictured here at one of the Swamp's high moments, a historic political convention) is the father of the Swamp, not to mention a father of two.
He is leaving to help National Public Radio start a newsblog of its own this spring, a new feature at www.npr.org that will carry the network's millions of listeners through the long news day, an online bridge between radio's Morning Edition and All Things Considered.
He has a certain amount of experience at this: A seasoned reporter and avid follower of blogs who came up with the idea, in the fall of 2005, that the Washington Bureau of the Tribune could sponsor a blog of its own. Mike Tackett, the bureau chief at the time, got behind the venture and got the green light from Chicago's editors.
The tale of Jack Abramoff, the disgraced Washington lobbyist, launched it, with a trial getting underway at the federal courthouse.
"Tackett said, 'Let's pull the trigger,''' Frank recalls. "So I ran over to the courthouse.... And I ran back to the office.''
And Frank wrote:
"It seems fitting that the first ever posting on the Swamp, the new blog of the Chicago Tribune's Washington bureau, be about Jack Abramoff, the self-admittedly corrupt Washington lobbyist whose behind-the-scenes activities, now revealed, are the sort that always go a long way towards confirming for many Americans that the nation's capital is every bit the morass of depravity they believe it to be.''
It was 5:06 pm, Eastern time, Jan. 3, 2006.
The second posting on the Swamp arrived the next morning, a follow-up on the same subject, filed by yours truly.
Since then, Frank and I have worked side-by-side on several thousands of postings, drawing hundreds of thousands of comments from readers and pushing the audience of the Swamp, at its peaks, to some 3 million "page-views'' per month, during the height of a historic 2008 presidential election campaign.
We have pursued this brand - and it is indeed now a recognized brand, drawing Editor and Publisher's annual "Eppy" award for best media-affiliated newsblog twice - day in and weekend day out, from dawn past dark.
We owe endless thanks to mentor Tackett for the venture.
"It was my idea, and I went to Tackett with it, and he immediately liked it and said, 'Let's tell (the editors in Chicago).''' Frank remembers. "They said, 'Sure, let's do it.'
"We got the OK in 2005, and we had to get the template set,'' Frank recalls, "and we were just kind of waiting for the right kind of moment to launch, and Abramaoff starting his court appearance... seemed to have kind of a Swamp feel to it.... So we pulled the trigger.''
Returning from the federal courthouse that day, Frank wrote:
"Abramoff is the well-connected lobbyist who, among other acts, ripped off Native American tribes he was supposed to be representing, and corrupted public officials. The 46-year old Abramoff, stockier than when he appeared before angry members of Congress at hearings in 2004, was in a federal courtroom today in a very somber proceeding to plead guilty to three felony counts.''
Three years and three months later, it's difficult to name the best days in the Swamp.
"I was live-blogging a debate, and I remember there was this woman... and she said, 'I love the Swamp'.'' Frank recalls.
"That was a pretty good moment...
"A bigger moment would have been when I was sitting there at the Democratic National Convention (see Frank, pictured above) live-blogging the nomination of Barack Obama to be the presidential nominee, and I was sitting there watching Hillary Clinton announce that New York was going to throw its delegates to Obama, and I said to myself, 'This was the kind of moment I hoped the Swamp would be able to capture.' When I started it, I hoped this is what the Swamp could be.
"All those things as reporters that we see and experience, being able to have a forum for that, in a way to not only tell people what they are seeing, but to hear back from them and to get their reaction to what you are seeing,'' he says - that's what makes the Swamp.
Frank has worked for nearly 20 years at the Tribune, starting in Chicago writing features, then working the Metro desk, covering higher education, politics, the Carol Moseley Braun Senate campaign and a stint of foreign correspondence in South Africa for the elections in 1994.
He came to the Washington Bureau in 1995, covering economics when he started here. He had reported for The Wall Street Journal for almost 10 years, in New York, Philadelphia and Chicago. His last formal beat in the bureau here was homeland security. Then he started the Swamp. And since the merger of the Tribune Co.'s many Washington bureaus into one mighty force, the Swamp has carried on, one posting at a time.
Three years and three months later, Frank steps out today. And soon he will take what he has created, and learned, here with him to a promising new venture.
Frank, along with Mark Memmott from USA Today, will be creating a new blog for NPR, which will provide "a blogosphere presence" for the two main shows, Morning Edition and All Things Considered.
Frank explains: "The idea they have is that, you have the two shows, and in between the two shows the audience is out there at work, and it would be really great to give the audience a place to go during the day to keep up with developing stories, to discuss things they've heard.''
They haven't named it yet.
Why we'll really miss him here: Frank, the father of the Swamp, you should know, is not only a wise and creative journalist, but also a human of the highest order, a kind, thoughtful and supportive friend to those of us who work alongside him, and a loving father for those two real children, the ones at home, and husband.
So Frank is moving on, NPR's gain, Swamp's loss.
"I'm hoping that the high points at this new job reach the high points of the Swamp,'' Frank says with a smile. "If they do, then I'll be pretty happy.''
Comments
Thanks Frank. Happy trails...
Posted by: Kenny Bunkport | April 3, 2009 7:50 AM
Good Luck Frank. We'll miss you!
Posted by: Lou | April 3, 2009 7:52 AM
Best of luck, Frank.
Posted by: Flo | April 3, 2009 8:12 AM
Good luck Frank. I thank you for all your efforts in creating a forum for political discussion. I have made wonderful friends from The Swamp and have enjoyed it from the very begining. Hidden in the threads is also a meeting of like kind souls who have used The Swamp for a sharing of music, art, etc and I for one can't thank you enough for everything you have done.
Once again....best of luck!
Posted by: bill r. | April 3, 2009 8:14 AM
Say it isn't so, Frank! I will look for
you on your new NPR site.
Good luck!
Posted by: C.Morris✈ | April 3, 2009 8:24 AM
~ "The idea they have is that, you have the two shows, and in between the two shows the audience is out there at work, and it would be really great to give the audience a place to go during the day to keep up with developing stories, to discuss things they've heard.''~
Yea, that's just great. That's what we need most. A place to go (while we're being paid) to discuss what we've heard (fight amongst ourselves and call each other names.
-
Any credibility NPR has had until now is certainly going to be lost now.
-
Hey Frank, best of luck to you and I'll see you over there.
-
PS I hope you're not in charge of links because the NPR.org is wrong.
Posted by: Rob | April 3, 2009 8:30 AM
So long, Frank, and good hunting.
I remember something called 'A Frank James Christmas' or something. A funny story about your Xmas Eve exploits.
If your are our there can we have a redux?
Posted by: OldCreaky | April 3, 2009 8:30 AM
Good riddance, Frank. I'm sure you'll make a left-wing nuisance of yourself wherever you land. Ta.
Posted by: Vast Right Wing Conspirator | April 3, 2009 8:45 AM
Frank,
Best of luck at your new venture. I can hardly wait to read it.
As a matter of record, they were too modest with your bio and forgot to mention you are a Trustee at your alma mater, Dickinson College in Carlisle, PA.
Now everyone knows. ;-)
Posted by: Paul McCubbin | April 3, 2009 8:53 AM
Will miss you here but look forward to seeing you at NPR. I'm sure you'll do well there. The stories they tell that never get reported in or on MSM are intereting and thought provoking.
Posted by: lochnessmonster | April 3, 2009 9:12 AM
Good Luck, Frank.
I'll miss your posts here.
PJ
Posted by: PJ Hansen | April 3, 2009 9:21 AM
Frank,
Thanks for all you've done, you’re a true visionary. The Swamp has been a great idea where ideas could be expressed, bantered and once in a while even agreed upon. Take care and good luck.
Brian
Posted by: Brian | April 3, 2009 9:34 AM
Well wishes..
Posted by: kaye c. | April 3, 2009 9:37 AM
Best of luck, Frank!
I've learned some fascinating stuff here over the years, even though I don't comment that often. For that, I give you a hearty "well done"!
Posted by: Brian M. | April 3, 2009 11:06 AM
Few people make any kind of mark on public discourse.
Precious few.
So, Swamp's loss is NPR's gain.
Posted by: ornery | April 3, 2009 11:16 AM
Congratulations and thanks for the enjoyable offerings. Looking forward to hearing you on ME and ATC.
Try getting on Sean/Rush so your buddy Bruce will get to hear you too.
Posted by: a blinkin | April 3, 2009 12:22 PM
OK, back by popular demand.
Bye, Frank.
Frank James's War on Christmas; A Fiction
December 24, 2006, 6:00 PM.
As Frank James left the Tribune Tower and walked south on Michigan toward his favorite drinking hole, the No Name Lounge on S. Michgan, the song was still running through his head.
He had Christmas shopping to do, HAD to do, but he needed to knock off the rough edges first. It had been an awful day in the Swamp, and he just couldn't face the hoards of shoppers on N. Michigan in a completely sober state of mind. Frank hated Christmas, in fact. 'Count me a soldier in the Liberal War on Christmas', he thought.
As he worked his way south through the crowded mass of people, a cold, hard rain hit him in the face. The channel 5 weather gal was still teasing a white Christmas, but really, it felt like a warm late March evening. Hadn't seen a real snow on Christmas in years. 'Who can shop for Christmas gifts in this s%$*', he mused. 'No more Marshall Field, no more Carson's. Was it really necessary? Did they really damn well have to do it?'
He had practically begged Mark to come along, and that David character from Connecticut. It wasn't often, anymore, that they were all in town together. "Come on boys! Just one. Im buying?" Mark made up a good excuse about a long drive to Michigan (Say Yes!!) for the holiday weekend, but that David guy just looked at him with a curious expression on his face and slowly shook his head no. 'What's with that guy? Some kind of eastern elitist prick? Why was he even in Chigago. Get the f*%# out, jack ass! Serenity now Frank, serenity now.'
Continuing south, the song re-asserted itself in his mind. 'Stop it!'
As he approached Michigan and Randolph he put his hand into his pocket and palmed a $20 bill. The famous Old Joe 'guy with no legs' was still working the corner after all these years. Joe's cover had been blown back in the 90's, but it didn't bother James. He liked Old Joe. Reminded him of someone. As he passed by he yelled, "Yo! Joe! buddy! Here!", and shoved the $20 into the old man's hand. Ever the professional, Joe muttered "Bless you, Brother. May the Lord be with you." James had a huge chuckle with himself over that one, but he replied, "Bless you too, Bro Joe."
James loved the smell of the city. A perfect blend of sweat, perfume, food, tobacco and bus fumes, illicit sex. Chicago smelled like a city should smell.
It was a bit of a walk to the No Name, but it was worth it, and as he walked past the Art Institute from the West side of Michigan, he looked up at the neo-classical facade and read the names carved into the rock forever; Raphael, Van Gough, Rembrant, and Botticelli; 'The bonfire of the vanities lives', he thought as he pushed in the door of the No Name bar and sat down at his usual place. "Frank!", some smart ass yelled. James grinned and gave him the finger.
"Gin martini very very dry, straight up, Sandi." Sandi nodded and walked back toward the other end of the bar to make his drink. She knew exactly what he wanted. The order was just a formality. Frank slyly apprised her form, thinking she had no clue. Men always think this.
As he looked deep down into his $12 drink, wondering how he could slip two on to his expense voucher, he took account of his day in the Swamp and there was the song again. 'Please stop. Please?'
* * * *
Frank drank down the martini in one sweet, rewarding chug, caught Sandi's eye and pointed to his glass with a look of urgency. 'This'll kill it!', he thought.
The Swamp; Today's main subject; "The Liberal War on Christmas, or The Conservative Jihad on the Holidays?" The first two to post were, of course Bruce and John E. How did they do it? How did they continue to crank this stuff out in every post, day after day? Did they eat, sleep, work, go to a movie, ever?? Did they really hate eachother?
The base of James's neck was experiencing a marvelous tingle, and the bar noise and sweet electric blues track really sounded great. He took another good drink and gave a familiar wink in Sandi's direction. She returned his wink with a disapproving half smile, then produced drink no. three.
Then old Dale reported in, somehow linking it all to the plight of vets and their VA bennies. Got to hand it to that guy; he believes in something with a passion. 'You go buddy', thought James.
Then came the long 'thought pieces' from RRD, tom, Tom O, Bill, little t tom, Dienne, Janet, Ms. Lizzy and all the other 'Johns', Juanito and the rest. And all this, sprinkled with comments from Jethro, a song or two from 'Mr.Morris', Jack and Bubba, Bill r, Bunkport, unlettered, maybe. These guys were always 'spitting in the soup'. There it was again, the awful tune.
Then, around 2PM, in time to make the final late afternoon cut, 'Neutral Lady' submitted a long fiction called, 'Christmas 1968; A Free Fire Zone Celebration' in which ALL the Swamp Rats become collateral damage casualties when a napalm strike goes haywire in the Iron Triangle. 'How's she even know about that crap?' She told a weird tale of what everyone thought about from the first moment of fiery pain until unconsciousness set in........crikey, mate.
And finally the cold, hard, remorseless JD would post. Was JD really John D? John E thought so, but not John or john f!
By now the wonderful tingling had reached the top of Frank's head, and he could bring himself to consider the last post received that day. His stomach jumped and the tingle faded as he thought of the awful, disgusting, sickeningly sweet, uncalled for, off subject posting he had finally, against his better judgement,,,,,allowed. Was the poster being sardonic, sarcastic, ironic, stupid?
James's realized he HAD to go Christmas shopping NOW. He slugged down the final, fifth glass of nearly pure gin, made a show of leaving Sandi her tip though she didn't seem to notice, and staggered through the door this time heading back North on Michigan.
The hard rain had turned into a harder freezing rain, and had switched to the North, so now he had to take it full in the face.
He made it past Legless Old Joe and as far as the newspaper kiosk, now closed, at Randolph Street and realized he could not go on. Had to sit down. There was a small space between the kiosk and the Cultural Building that looked big enough for shelter. James's staggered toward it. The last thing he remembered was seeing the blurry lights of a Christmas decoration on a corner street light.
************
Old Joe had called it a day, and it had been a good one. Joe had Christmas shopping to do for his grandson. He stood up and briskly walked around the corner turning west on Randolph, thinking about dinner, when he suddenly stopped. He spotted an indistinct form sprawled out on a pile of old newspapers next to the old library building. 'Oh, that ain't good, fella.' He reached into James's pocket, and pulled out his wallet. 'Merry Christmas mofo!!'
*************
At 2:00 AM on December 25, 2006, Frank James slowly regained consciousness.
There was a song running through his head.
'Thanks a lot Morris. Merry Christmas, you idiot!!'
Why do birds
Suddenly appear?
Everytime you are near
Just like me
They long to be
Close to you
Why do stars
Fall down from the sky?
Everytime you walk by
Just like me
They long to be
Close to you
On the day that you were born
The angels got together and decided
To create a dream come true
So they sprinkled moondust in your hair
Of gold and starlight in your eyes of blue
That is why all the girls in town
Follow you all around
Just like me
They long to be
Close to you
Just like me
They long to be
Close to you
Woo... close to you...
Posted by: NeutralLady | April 3, 2009 12:54 PM
Sorry, but I say good riddance. One less Obamabot in the Obune Washington Bureau is a good thing. Frank James has no clue how to report fairly nor honestly. Heck, he even wrote that the Chicago Democratic Machine died in the late 1970s when the first Mayor Daley died.
But now NPR has another Obamabot on staff. What a pity.
Posted by: John D | April 3, 2009 1:35 PM
Frank, please excuse the poor manners of the vast right wing lunatic. You can't take 'it' anywhere.
Posted by: Flo | April 3, 2009 1:57 PM
I suppose I am a "right wing lunatic, but I enjoy reading The Swamp" nonetheless. It's one of my top news blogs.
Thanks, Frank. Best wishes.
I will look forward to your NPR blog.
Posted by: John Hamlet | April 3, 2009 2:24 PM
Wow--What a blow losing Frank from The Swamp. I think Mr. James understands what a political blog should be. Best of luck, FJ, you will be missed.
Posted by: dt☢ | April 3, 2009 2:52 PM
Frank........could you take John D with you????? Pretty please???? You can leave right wing con....that would indeed be asking to much of anyone.
Posted by: bill r. | April 3, 2009 2:52 PM
John D,
I thought you were supposed to promote gas, not pass it. Stand downwind, loser.
Posted by: Kenny Bunkport | April 3, 2009 3:10 PM
Crazy John D(evola), the malevolent clown, never misses the opportunity to show no class at all.
NL,
Still funny after all these years!
Nice send off for Frank.
Posted by: C.Morris✈ | April 3, 2009 3:40 PM
You've done stellar work here at the Swamp, Frank.
Good luck and best wishes to you at NPR.
Posted by: John E | April 3, 2009 4:04 PM
Frank -
Congrats on the move! You'll be missed here. I enjoyed your OPINION blog (it seems that John D and Bruce never could quite comprehend that your blog was opinion and not news . . . ) Good luck and Godspeed!
Posted by: Buster | April 3, 2009 5:25 PM
Frank,
Job well done here. You created a real masterpiece with your own two hands in cyberworld, and yes, the relationships that people have formed here are more than just political. Good luck at NPR....I'm sure your excel there as well.
Posted by: Xcellentform | April 3, 2009 5:36 PM
Good luck, Frank!!!!!!!!
Posted by: rupert | April 3, 2009 7:57 PM
Great job Frank. You will be missed.
Posted by: Bubba ✔ | April 4, 2009 11:30 AM
sad sad day to watch the leave-taking of one of the FINEST human beings i have ever known. i am among the blessed, because years ago i worked alongside that long tall sequoia named frank james. over the years and miles we might not have tapped out enough notes to each other, nor called each other quite often enough. but, rare few times in life, your heart connects with another heart, one whose reservoir is deep and whose compassion is infinite....
and so, as one pages turns, it is necessary and good to pause, and to say out loud, thank you mr. frank james for being a model in the newsroom and in the walk called life. while all the rest comment on your many gifts as a journalist, i find myself most riveted by your heart and soul. godspeed my friend, see you on the radio. love, bam
Posted by: bam | April 5, 2009 6:17 PM