‘Music is love in search of a word’

Billy Watson punched my ticket to Macon. He offered me my first newspaper job, believed in me, mentored me and gave me the best advice I ever received in journalism.

“Write about everyday people who might not otherwise have their names in the newspaper,’’ he told me. “People who wake up every morning and go out and make a difference in the world.’’

Not the president of the bank. Not the guy who robs the bank. But regular folks who go to the bank and make deposits and withdrawals. 

Everybody has a story to tell. His charge to me was to go out and find those stories … then write them.

Billy was my editor at The Macon Telegraph. He was one of those old-school, newspaper saints who thrived on deadlines, pounded out stories on typewriters and grinned at the smear of newsprint on his fingers. 

I think about him every day of my professional life. He began working at The Telegraph in 1963. He wore so many hats – Sunday editor, Atlanta bureau chief, managing editor, editor, executive editor and general manager – there was no way he could have fit all of them on one hat rack. He later became the publisher of The Columbus Ledger-Enquirer. 

But he wasn’t one of those work-obsessed guys who was married to his job.  He made time for his family. He loved tennis and jogging. He read good books. He had a sweet tooth for ice cream.

Among his biggest passions was music.  He played the five-string banjo in a town with a rich, musical heritage.

When Billy died of a heart attack in 1995, we lost a shining light. He was only 56. He was laid to rest near the pecan groves in his tiny hometown of Pitts, in Wilcox County. 

Among those attending  his funeral was Little Roy Lewis, the famous bluegrass musician. He played two of Billy’s favorites on the banjo – “Over in Glory Land” and “Amazing Grace.” It marked only the second time Little Roy had performed at a funeral. The other was for legendary picker Lester Flatt.

Gov. Zell Miller also was there to pay his respects. The late governor was influential in bringing the Georgia Music Hall of Fame to Macon and, in 1999, just around the corner from the newspaper offices where Billy worked for 24 years, the music hall of fame dedicated its children’s educational wing. It was named the Billy Watson Music Factory.

Like Billy, the Music Hall of Fame is no longer with us. 

But the band plays on, which is why I thought of him the other day.

Billy would absolutely love The Macon Melody.

He would love the giant leap of faith to start a newspaper at a time when other newspapers are dying or withering on the vine. He would love the Melody’s commitment to local news and its dedication to telling the stories of the community whose name it shares on its masthead. 

He would love its outreach to a younger audience that has cut its teeth on a digital platform while, at the same time, embracing traditional newspaper readers who want to hold a paper in their hands, read it from the front cover to the back page, solve the crossword puzzle and cut out the articles. (Making someone’s refrigerator door is the highest honor in journalism.)

He would love the name, too. The Macon Melody. It’s a reminder of the collective voices and variety of instruments that come together to make music.

Billy would champion the Melody because it embodies what Macon’s native son, 19th poet Sidney Lanier, famously said:  “Music is love in search of a word.’’

I don’t write poetry, like Sidney. And I don’t play the banjo, like Billy. But I’ve got the word part covered. I always tell people I was born a wordsmith.  My mother’s maiden name is Smith and words are my trade. 

I have covered plenty of ground across Middle and South Georgia in my more than 40 years as a local journalist.  A lot of trees have died in the line of duty for me to tell my stories. (And a few electrons, too.) 

 Folks have sat on their front porches and given me guided tours of their lives. They have bent my ear on wooden bleachers and poured their hearts out across kitchen tables. 

I have written stories about teachers, preachers, dirt farmers,  short-order cooks, street sweepers, school custodians, shade-tree mechanics and homeless men wandering the downtown streets  wondering where they might find their next meal.

I have searched for the perfect words to make loyal readers laugh, cry and think. I have sought to bring them together on the page. It has been a calling, not a career.

In April, I received the biggest honor of my professional life. I was the recipient of the John Holliman Lifetime Achievement Award from the Grady School of Journalism and Mass Communications at the University of Georgia. I also was presented as a Grady Fellow.

I was deeply humbled to be included in the company of all those kings and queens, to have my name added to the roll call of those who received the same lifetime achievement award. Among them was one of my heroes, Billy Watson. 

Three days after the “Grady Salutes” ceremony, I announced I was retiring from Macon’s Stratford Academy, where I have taught high school journalism for the past nine years. My hope is that I made a difference in the lives of my students. I know they have made a difference in mine.

I left teaching – with all its joys and rewards – because the Melody has given me the opportunity to return to full-time column writing. I have been reunited with several of my former newspaper colleagues in our offices at Mercer Village. We are one block from the Newton Chapel at the front of the Mercer campus, where I was married 42 years ago this summer.

So, in many ways, I am coming full circle.

No, I did not have to audition for the Melody. I did not have to sing or play the piano. (Hey, I might not have gotten the job.)

But I did pledge to bring my trained voice to the chorus and  make a joyful noise. Thanks for listening.

Ed Grisamore has been a journalist in Macon and Middle Georgia for more than 45 years. He received the 2024 John Holliman Lifetime Achievement Award from the Grady College of Journalism and Mass Communication at the University of Georgia. He was the recipient of the 2010 Will Rogers Humanitarian Award, presented by the National Society of Newspaper Columnists. Grisamore has won first-place awards from the Georgia Press Association in five categories and has written nine books.