Sara in middle row, second from left.

“The most interesting phase of my whole newspaper career, which lasted altogether for 29 years, was the period of the ’60s and the civil rights struggle and I will try to recall some of this period in more detail.

“There were many hectic times while I worked for the paper, and sometimes I would threaten to quit, but today I would not take anything for the experiences I had, and the things I learned, and the contacts I made during those years. With no journalism background other than my short stint as editor of the high school newspaper, it took a lot of nerve to cover some of the events I did, but I bluffed my way through a lot of them and used the good English background I had received in the Greenwood schools.

“Russell chauffeured me on many of the assignments and stood with me in dangerous situations and encouraged me. Using his sales ability he convinced me that I should not ask people something and add, ‘I’m sure you probably don’t want to tell me’ but should be more positive. I never did get good at asking people embarrassing or personal questions because I always thought about how I would have felt in their position.

“I am sure I had as many stories and pictures as any of the other correspondents and more than most used in the paper. I was invited every year to the editor’s luncheon during the Mid-South Fair in Memphis and recognized as one of their top correspondents.”

Remember the very first blog title, way back in April? “She was interesting, because she was interested.” Who would have ever dreamed that the third little Evans girl on Strong  Avenue would grow up to do what Sara did? With no formal training and no journalistic pedigree, she talked her way onto the staff of one of the South’s premier newspapers and built a stellar career that lasted almost 30 years. What she has shared in the pages of her memoir is just the barest tip of the iceberg. I remember very few days that she wasn’t out with her notebook and her camera, checking on trouble or stirring up trouble or turning over stones for tidbits. Afternoons were devoted to pulling it all together, developing photographs to go on the last Greyhound to Memphis and typing up stories to be transferred over to the teletype. And all the while she was tending to every need that Russell, Cathy and I had, generally with equanimity and patience. We all lived by the deadline, but we were also proud as punch when her byline appeared in the Commercial. It was just a wonderful way to grow up, watching our world interpreted for the newspaper’s readers through the eyes of someone we loved.

She didn’t pat herself on the back very often, but she does just a bit in this section of the memoir. I think occasionally she looked back at what she had accomplished and thought, “How on Earth did that happen?” Some blind luck, a whole lot of talent and sheer grit.