"Sometimes they put a hump in your back and you don't straighten up 'til you get down the road."

Philip Simmons--Master blacksmith and craft artist from Charleston, South Carolina

My first pitch meeting in New York City--with Esther Jackson, the esteemed publisher and editor of Freedomways--did not begin the way I had envisioned. The once friend and confidante of William Edward Burghardt Du Bois listened courteously as I peppered her with bright ideas, then revealed what actually was on her mind.

"Those are all very interesting possibilities, dear," she said, "but right now we are preparing a special issue dedicated to the artist Charles White who recently passed away."

To describe this moment as revelatory does not approach exaggeration. During the subway ride downtown I had decided to focus on stories that I wished to write about the legacy of Harlem; my post-college days at The Los Angeles Sentinel were a few years and 3000 miles away. Yet that day, in one extraordinary moment, I discovered the context of my work.

"Mr. White was a wonderful man," I said. "The interview with him was the first that I ever had published."

Mrs. Jackson's eyes widened; her gentle frame seemed to leap forward from her chair. "You interviewed Charles White?" she asked. "We have lots of essays but no interviews. Would it be possible to bring yours in?"

What surprises me still is that the takeaway of this story is not how I sold my first article in New York to a publication that I had long admired. The words I am called upon to remember were not Mrs. Jackson's gracious invitation to contribute, but her startling declaration that there were "lots of essays but no interviews."

Never again would I underestimate the importance of journalism. Newspapers and magazines are rightly called periodicals (and heaven only knows what substance cyber reporting will bring), however it is a privilege to talk with serious people about their journeys, and then to place their stories on terrain accessible to all.