Three days a week for more than 20 years, Mike Levine wrote newspaper columns that stood up for the little guy, celebrated the lives of everyday people and shined a light on the darkness of corrupt and inept public servants. Words to Repair the World represents a distillation of some of the best of those columns. Many knew Levine as a columnist for the Times Herald-Record in Middletown, N.Y., and later as executive editor of the newspaper. In life, Mike was a short guy, but in the world of journalism, he was a giant. His columns were filled with stories of parenthood and family and of living in the Hudson Valley. He wrote about his work as an editor and columnist and served as a watchdog that challenged the arrogance of the powerful and held them accountable. Equal parts preacher, mentor, comic and salesman, Mike sometimes talked about Tikkun olam , Hebrew for “repair of the world,” a concept that speaks to an aspiration to behave and act constructively and beneficially for the rest of the world. His work embraced that principle. Mike died in 2007 at the age of 54. He left this world too soon, but the legacy he left behind lives on in the hearts of many. Words to Repair the World is a tribute to that legacy. “Mike Levine was a wonderful human being and a great community newspaper editor who used his intuitive understanding of other people’s struggles with the difficulties of life to help his readers cope with and understand the complexities of the world’s problems. His columns were full of human kindness.” -- Jim Ottaway Jr., retired chairman of Ottaway Newspapers Inc. “Mike was the ultimate newspaper guy, from his looks to his speech to his unwavering ambition to stick up for the little guy. Every newspaper should be so lucky to have a Mike Levine writing and editing for it. His passion for newspapers and the good that could come out of them was unmatched.”— Jeff Cohen, former editor of the Houston Chronicle About the Christopher Mele is a veteran newsman who, growing up in the Bronx, knew at the age of 11 that he wanted to cover the news. Over more than three decades, he's worked in newsrooms in New York and Pennsylvania and is currently a senior staff editor and weekend editor on the Express Team at The New York Times .
A Marine is always a Marine. The same goes for journalists like Mike Levine. Even from the afterlife, he shares his passion for journalism.
Words to Repair the World collects the wisdom Mike trumpeted to the nation's newspaper leaders from his perch as editor of the Times Herald-Record in Middleton, New York. Mike died suddenly in 2007 at the age of 54. As a testimony to Mike's charismatic and wise leadership, one of his colleagues spent three years distilling Mike's columns that acclaimed his values about storytelling, the core of journalism.
I was Mike's colleague when we were members of the American Society of Newspaper Editors, now called the American Society of News Editors, a nod to the digital journalism revolution. We were editors of smaller papers on tight budgets in an organization dominated by large, metropolitan papers and editors who made big money. That didn't cow Mike. I can still see his intense face exhorting me to harness my passion and stem the tide of newspapers' decline. He was going to save community journalism even if he had to do it himself.
At the same time, he was funny, brotherly, welcoming, and smart. I wish he still marched among us and could assure us that the values we championed inspire the current generation of journalists, who use phones and the web to tell stories.
The chapter about being an editor and columnist grabbed me. Mike poignantly described how, after years of running the newsroom, he wanted to go back to writing.
"I couldn't hear God anymore," he said in one column. "Each of us has something that connects us to ourselves and our Creator. For me, it's telling stories."
He wasn't gone long. After a stint at ESPN, he strode back to the Times Herald-Record in various leadership positions, indicating that the Levine from sophisticated New York City was now permanently at home in rural Middleton, New York.
Mike's death extinguished a bright light needed at a time of transition from print to digital. I am grateful Christopher Mele, the book's author and now an editor at the New York Times, codified Mike's optimistic enthusiasm about the importance of journalism: "You can stand up for the hardworking stiffs, hail everyday heroes, and tell the bullies where to get off."
Mike stood behind a different role for editors. They were charged with bringing together the community and newsrooms.
"I burn to help us connect again," Mike wrote in one column.
While words from the late 1990s and early 2000s might feel quaint to today's news scribes, I urge journalism teachers to consider Mike's words to repair the world. Working journalists of the millennial generation must thrash out a way to practice these values in a world that celebrates bullies and ignores everyday heroes. We must find our way back to a place where thoughtful reporting brings us together. Mike's memory demands it.