Journalism's
Steel Magnolia
Pat
McNeely: A Few Stories to Tell
by Jamie Hoffman
Pat McNeely is a “titanium
magnolia.” When I first heard Doug Fisher use the phrase, I admit I
was intrigued. I had to find out what that meant. So I dove
into McNeely's life and discovered some fascinating and colorful
stories about our print and electronic sequence chairwoman
who is retiring after 34 years at USC. Girls
can’t have paper routes, but Pat can be a
copy boy
McNeely knew she wanted to be a writer in junior high
school, but her first foray into journalism was when she
tried to get a paper route. Her older brothers
had a paper route in Greenville, and she had been helping
them while she was a freshman at Furman University. McNeely went to the regional manager of the Greenville News
and told him she wanted her own paper route. Her told her
girls couldn’t have paper routes, but he offered to
find something else for her. So she became the first female
copy "boy" at The Greenville News. McNeely spent 20 hours each week typing reporters’ assignments,
getting pictures from the morgue for the city editor and
running back and forth among the editors. One day McNeely got her big break. The reporter who normally
reviewed plays couldn’t make it to “The Lady’s
Not For Burning” at Furman, so he asked whether she
knew anything about it. “Yes, I know all about,” she
said, because she happened to be studying it in her English
class. He told her to go see what she could do, and the paper printed
her review exactly the way she wrote it. The next day she
went to work and her name was on the assignment sheet. “ From that point on, I started writing,” she
said. Pat’s
famous chicken story
McNeely
started writing regular features for the farm page. On Fridays
she would go into work and get her assignment, do her interviews
and write her story for Monday's papers. One
day the city editor told her to go to Travelers Rest and
interview two ladies with 20,000 chickens. She grabbed her
camera and notepad, but when she arrived, much to her “horror,
shock and amazement,” the ladies had just 20 chickens. She
knew she couldn’t return to the newsroom without a
story – "It would have been better just to drive
over a cliff.” So
she started asking every question she could think of. Still
nothing. She agreed to have tea with them. But “cup
after cup after cup,” and she still had no story. Finally,
they told her they had to go feed the chickens. As the feeding
started, the next thing she heard was “Get over here
Anna. Let Jane have some of that. Suzie, stop that.” McNeely quickly realized all the chickens had names and
the women could tell them apart based on their personalities. “It
was a tremendous lesson for me,” she said. “I
learned if you dig long enough and hard enough, you can find
a story.” Girls
can’t make what the boys make, but Pat can
make more McNeely was afraid to tell the city editor when she was
graduating from college because he had told her when she
took the copy boy job that it was a dead end – they
never hired the copy boy.
But colleges usually sent the list of graduates to newspapers.
When it arrived on the city editor's desk, she said, he jumped
up, headed for the managing editor’s office, came out
and told her the editor wanted to see her. Thinking she was
going to be fired she went in, but he offered her a
full-time reporter position instead. She accepted. Then he
told her he didn’t
know how much to pay her because she was a girl. “Oh, that’s very simple,” she said. “Pay
me the same thing you pay Calvin, and Bill and Leslie.”
But this was 1960, and he told her he couldn’t
do that because she was a girl. He asked if she could do
anything else. McNeely said she had a teacher’s certificate, and
he offered to pay her $5 more a week than the starting salary
for teachers in Greenville County. McNeely says she agreed,
then came back and told him that would be “$55 a week.”
She said he frowned a little and said, “That’s
more than than the starting salaries for
Calvin, Bill and Leslie.” So McNeely began her reporting career making more than the
starting salary of her male co-workers. Her academic accomplishments McNeely
got married in 1961 and moved to Columbia where she alternated
working at The State and the Columbia Record.
While
in Columbia, she earned her master’s degree from USC
and in 1972 joined the faculty as a part-time instructor.
In 1974, McNeely became the first female full-time professor
in the news editorial sequence at the School.
Dean Albert Scroggins said in his letter
to Dr. Keith Davis, acting provost, "Mrs. Patricia G. McNeely
has had extensive training in newspaper and other communications
work.... She also freelances and is a frequent contributor
to one of the best national weeklies in the country, The
National Observer, owned by the Wall Street Journal. Mrs.
McNeely is well liked by her students, is a good teacher
and is very enthusiastic about our program." In 1992-93, McNeely
became the only woman in the 83-year history of the journalism
school to work her way through the ranks to become a full
professor. As the Eleanor M. and R. Frank Mundy Professor
(2001), she is also the only woman in the school to
be honored with an endowed chair. Her nickname When I asked McNeely what a “titanium magnolia” was,
she said it was really very simple. She teaches a lot of
workshops for out-of-towners, and because of her Southern
accent, she gives them Southern-language lessons. She said
someone started calling her a “steel magnolia,” and
then someone wrote she was a “titanium magnolia.” The story behind the nickname may not be fancy, but “titanium
magnolia” makes perfect sense. McNeely is the epitome
of a Southern lady, but she's tough enough to make her dreams
come true, even when the odds are against her.
Alumni
and friends had a few stories of their own to tell about
Pat. You can read them by downloading them in pdf format.
More stories>
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Jamie Hoffman is a graduate
student in the M.M.C. program at the School of Journalism
and Mass Communications. She received her B.A. in Print
Journalism from the School in December 2005. |
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