Newspapers: End of One-Man Rule

So many reporters have come and gone at the Kansas City Star that the paper's register of alumni has earned it a reputation as one of the top journalism schools in the U.S. Last week 177 former I.W.A.T.S. (short for I Worked at the Star) went back to Kansas City to pay tribute to their alma mater and its longtime editor, Roy A. Roberts, 77, who retired last January. The occasion was the 85th anniversary of the Star, but the star attraction was Roberts. Amid steaks, Bloody Marys, speeches, reminiscences and a Sigma Delta Chi award to the Star, guests could hardly decide whether they were more surprised that their crusty old editor had slimmed from 300 Ibs. to 185 or that he had finally given up control of the Star. But on one thing they all agreed: the paper will never be quite the same without him.

When Roy Roberts took over at the Star, it was a case of one corpulent autocrat replacing another. The paper's founder, 300-lb. William Rockhill Nelson, turned to journalism after dabbling in real estate, cotton farming and contracting. Defeats had only stirred Nelson's crusading spirit, and he wasted no time getting his paper embroiled in fights for clean government, clean streets and clean souls. Derided by Kansas City's four other papers, the Star overtook them all, and by World War I had a circulation of 200,000. "Nelson could be mean as hell," says Roberts, who suffered and learned under the founder for seven years. "But he inspired loyalty. He loved a fight; and if there wasn't one going, he would go out and pick one."

Local Kingmaker. When he became editor, Roberts was just as belligerent. Considering the Star the "hair shirt of the community," he joined in the growing newspaper war on the corrupt Pendergast machine, and kept firing until Pendergast was destroyed. "I'd rather report than eat," said the editor, who excelled at both. He loved to play politics, and became a kingmaker in the Republican Party, backing Dewey, Willkie and Ike; he also lent a helping hand to a local Democratic boy, Harry Truman. Dubbed "Mr. Kansas City," he once boasted: "I'll have the biggest damn funeral Kansas City has ever seen. They'll all come out to see their old master laid away."

In recent years, cataracts and ulcers have slowed Roy down. He neither eats nor reports as much as he used to, though he still smokes 15 Coronas a day. In 1963 he became chairman of the board after he resigned as editor, and was replaced by Richard B. Fowler, 63, a quiet, diffident man who is less interested in playing politics than in administering a newspaper. "Nelson ran the Star as his personal paper," mused Roberts last week, characterizing his own regime as well. "Today it is run as the readers' paper."

Open-Minded Coverage. Though he lacks Roberts' flamboyance, Fowler has some firm ideas of his own regarding the Star, and readers seem to be responding to the changes he is making. The Star has a Washington bureau of two, and it now sends correspondents as far as Africa; though its real strength remains its enthusiastic and comprehensive local coverage which, to the Star, means generous hunks of Kansas as well as its native Missouri.