Learning the hard way: Embarrassing but memorable mistakes
by Paula Lovell on July 17, 2012 | 17 comments
in Public Relations, Writing
I spoke to a group of successful business women the other day. While reflecting on critical events in my life that helped shape my career, I was reminded of a particularly memorable (and embarrassing) moment in my young career. It was painful at the time, but it trained me to be conscientious about fact checking and accuracy – something rather important in my business. The room was in stitches when I recounted my story, and it felt good to reminisce about what I had learned:
I was a shy kid. I can’t imagine what made me think I could be a professional communicator, but somehow I got a job right out of college as a newspaper reporter at what was then the afternoon paper, The Nashville Banner.
Of course, I was just a “cub” reporter. And, at that time, the cub reporter at the Banner was required to show up at 6:45 a.m. and write obituaries (the OBITS.) In fact, I had to call up all the families of the recently deceased and ask them what I considered very painful questions: Where and what time is the funeral? What church did they belong to? Who were the survivors? Did they want to say in the obit how the loved one had died? Frankly, I wanted to die…every morning. To this 21-year old, it was excruciating.
Not too many years before, I had moved to Nashville, Tenn., from New Jersey, and I just had not quite perfected the art of understanding a variety of Southern accents, especially the accents in some areas of rural Tennessee. In fact, occasionally on these gruesome phone calls, I’d ask people to repeat themselves so many times they’d literally hang up on me.
One day, I was at my desk in the City Room working on a “real” story, having finished the obits. All of a sudden the very gruff, very loud, smoke-throated Editor of the City Desk Brad Carlisle hollered out, “Paula, get up here.”
Simultaneously, everyone’s heads popped up from their typewriters (yes, we’re talking real typewriters, the manual kind, no less.)
“Get up here,” he hollered again.
So I ran to his desk in the middle of the large, smoky room, and he said in a blasting voice (definitely designed to humiliate me), “What in the HELL is the Three Wheel Baptist Church??!!!.”
The entire newsroom guffawed. And for years, when I ran into Banner greats like Pinckney Keel and Larry Brinton, they asked me if I’d decided join the “Three Wheel Baptist Church.”
I can’t imagine why I didn’t check my facts, when I clearly did not understand the gentleman on the phone, and I will never forget what this taught me about writing and communications. I’ve referred it for a lifetime, and my motto is printed on the wall in our office: “Assume Nothing.”
Love it! You started my morning with a belly laugh. Thanks for sharing.
You write so well. Ever thought of a novel or better yet a memoir?
I’d have to change so many names, it wouldn’t even make sense. But I do wish I’d keep a journal of the exciting, meaningful, scary work that Lovell Communications has done over the past almost 25 years. There are things I can’t remember the details on that I swore I’d never forget!
Great story. Even now you dont have to be from NJ to get tangled up in various dialects, but what strikes me is
(1 Here we are 50 .. no 40, I mean ..25 years later and you haven’t forgotten that story.
and (2 You “owned” the error, taking responsibility vs blaming the man who couldn’t talk correctly.
Those specific qualities and disciplines you brought to the table then have served you well. You take your job seriously, and you inspire many, including me, to never let the bar slip. We have standards. I hope there is a 21 year old so to graduate from Vandy who will bring to the market that same passion.
Thank you, John.
Reading your great story reminded me of the time I edited a food column that a friend, transplanted to Nashville from Ohio, had written. She had interviewed a lady in Donelson and included her favorite recipe for “Camel Pie.”
I can totally picture that!
Loved this! I remember the time that I interviewed you for a business profile and the interview was amazing! I returned to my office, only to discover that the tape recorder hadn’t worked.
I loved your story and just knew Dad’s name would surface somewhere in there!
i have too many embarrassing moments to recall. Hope you are well.
Beverly Keel
Now that was a good one. Humility, indeed is a virtue. Thanks for sharing.
I’m afraid I don’t get it. Can someone explain it?
It is supposed to be the Free Will Baptist Church.
Paula,
The story is outstanding and I bet you laughed harder than anyone in the room? You have a great sense of humor and there is nothing like a good laugh on oneself! I have always felt deprecating stories about oneself help the audience feel more connected with the speaker! Aside fom everything else I send you my best regards,
Chuck
Paula,
There is nothing like having a good laugh on oneself! You have such a great sense of humor that I bet you laughed harder than anyone in the room about your mishap! You are special and always will be!
My very best, Chuck
Thanks, Chuck. I think it was mortified at the age of 21… But I sure laugh about it when I think about it now!
Hearing stories like these gives me hope that all of those mistakes I’ve made so far won’t completely derail my career. It’s inspirational to hear about how successful people made mistakes, but dusted themselves off and kept moving. Thanks Paula!
Thanks, Jan. Hope you are loving your work. Bet they are loving you!
What a hard, yet valuable lesson that was to learn. I’m so grateful you taught me early in my career!
I think it is one of the most valuable lessons in life! You are a quick study.