Arthur Spiegelman

Everyone has their favorite memories of Arthur. Mine run together during the days when Digger had his office next door to Arthur at 1700 Broadway. I’ve never come across two more original characters in my working days before or since. During those coffee and cigarette salons in Digger’s office, one or another of them was usually editing, writing, laughing, joking or spilling coffee – or worse, sipping coffee with a cigarette butt in the cup. The gathering would then shift to Arthur’s office and back again, journos coming in during their breaks because it was the perfect hang out. They’d take a call, chat a bit, then come back to the mix. Both instinctively knew the news, but also a good story, and not just in the written form. They riffed off each other, telling great stories. I looked on, bemused at these wise elders.

John Abell wrote movingly on his blog how Arthur mentored him, and we all had experiences where Arthur helped us find the lead, or more accurately, the story, in the 800-word piece we’d already written. One comes to mind in my case about a feature I’d done about a jazz guitarist. Arthur told me I missed the lead, banged one out and then swung it back to me. A few days later it appeared as a big feature in the Int’l Herald Tribune. I was slightly amazed.

Those were great times. Arthur was very human in an increasingly corporate world. To me, he really was what the news was all about. I’ll miss him. ■