I still remember the day I met with Charlie, the editor at the Chino Champion weekly newspaper. They were short a reporter and I was there to see if they would be interested in hiring me. A friend who had been in journalism classes with me at Riverside City College had recently gone to work there and told me I should apply. Mae Wagner Marinello is a former newspaper reporter, photographer and columnist and longtime Inlandia Institute workshop leader in Redlands. (Courtesy of Mae Wagner Marinello) To determine if I would be capable of the job, Charlie sent me to write a story about a longtime resident of the community. I did just that. I remember Charlie saying that, as editor, he could fix any errors I might make in my style, but he couldn’t teach me heart. The story I wrote that day must have had heart, as I left the Champion’s office as their newest reporter. I was excited. For the most part, it was a dream job. Schools and school board meetings were my beat. The latter was the only thing I didn’t like. I hadn’t realized how political school districts could be. Once, the newspaper staff interviewed various school board candidates. One candidate was at its meeting the night the papers with our recommendations for the upcoming election were delivered to the newsstands. At a break in the meeting he left and returned with the newspaper. We had not endorsed him. He backed me into a corner, swore at me and berated me. His actions convinced me we had made the right decision. In another instance, a principal at one of the schools wanted to speak to me. As we walked and talked, she told me that there was a hiring freeze in the district; this was not public knowledge — but she thought it should be. As promised, I did not reveal my source. Later I was devastated to learn that one of the best principals I had worked with was forced to leave the district; it was assumed he was the one who told me. He was not. When I visited classrooms, I wanted to focus on children who were seldom noticed. They were not the top students nor were they troublemakers. I wanted to give them a moment to shine. It helped that I took all my own photos to go with the stories, developed by a young man on staff back when the newspaper was still put together using the paste-up method. I liked taking “wild art” photos. One such photo turned into a story. A woman was pulling a baby in a wagon; a young girl of around 9 was pushing from behind. When the girl was a baby, she had recovered from a very serious illness and the mother vowed to help another child if the opportunity ever arose. The opportunity did come when a baby with Down Syndrome was born to a family who did not feel capable of caring for the child. This family adopted the baby. There were many opportunities for memorable stories, thanks in particular to two teachers at one school, including a hot air balloon ride. We met at Perris airport on a chilly morning. I was in one of the last balloons to go up. One of my fellow passengers was a blind student; another had cerebral palsy. The blind student would ask, “Mae, what does it look like now?” “Mae, what do you see?” I told him the cars below looked like toy Hot Wheels cars. The boy with cerebral palsy told our pilot, Bill, that the fire was too hot and hurt his neck and wanted him to turn it off. They were brave and trusting. It was a good thing they did not know what I knew. Our balloon kept bouncing along just above electrical lines. I knew that was not a good sign. I wasn’t afraid to die, and I would have gone down bravely for those boys if it had come to that — but thankfully, I didn’t have to. When we landed, Bill told his pick-up crew, “Man, I was really rowing. I couldn’t get away from the lines.” I knew our danger had not been my imagination. Perhaps one of the most wonderful experiences I had at the Champion was meeting and writing about Sam Maloof, a world-famous woodworker. Getting to know him was a spiritual experience. Maloof also gave me a book he had written about his work, including his humble beginnings. That book, with its inscription, is one of my most treasured objects. I even wrote an op-ed on Sam Maloof, published March 1, 1998, in The Press-Enterprise. One of his apprentices, Mike, told me he had a box full of articles about Maloof and that my articles had captured him better than any others he had. Related Articles News | Everyone has a story: Redlands Adult Literacy Program anthology shares unique experiences News | Celebrating the beauty of nature in art and writing News | Supporting Native culture through oral storytelling News | When writing, stories of abuse demand writers’ special care News | Writing can draw on strength and emotions from past experiences As a writer for newspapers, one of the most wonderful experiences has been the feedback I’ve received from what I have written, including previous Inlandia Literary Journeys columns such as this one. Thank you for reading. Mae Wagner Marinello is a former newspaper reporter/photographer; law enforcement dispatcher; late-in-life high school teacher and longtime Inlandia workshop leader in Redlands. She is a mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. Reach her at [email protected].