The Rogers Report 50th Anniversary

 

THE ROGERS REPORT AT 50 (Part 1): Giving thanks

Indulge me, if you will, and allow me to celebrate a personal milestone and give thanks where it is due.

 

On this date in 1975, the first The Rogers Report was published, appearing on the Tiger Growl page in The Malakoff News. Yes, that makes today the 50-year anniversary of a day and event I had no idea as a junior at Malakoff High School it would affect my life as it did.

 

The thought of being a sports journalist had never crossed my mind. At that time in my life, my goal was to be a high school football coach. The long-range dream being, of course, to return and lead the Tigers to a state championship.

 

Some way, somehow, the Tigers got there without me, and I navigated the waters of a different journey. I have no regrets things turned out the way they did. What a ride it has been.The places it has taken me; the things it has allowed me to see, and the people I have been fortunate to meet make me a blessed person. I may have never seen it coming, but I am certainly thankful that it is where it took me.

 

Enough of that. That’s too much about me.

 

The Rogers Report would never have come to be had it not been for MHS journalism teacher Thomas O. Wylie. Mr. Wylie, which I still call him out of respect, approached me with the idea, encouraged me, gave me guidance, and off I went.

 

Mr. Wylie saw something in me that I did not see in myself when he selected me to write a column as a contribution to our weekly page in our hometown newspaper. That is what great teachers do. I owe Mr. Wylie more than a simple “thank you” could ever repay. I know he will never take full credit for the professional career I have enjoyed since 1982. But he clearly provided the ignition point.

 

Upon my MHS graduation with my Class of ’77 classmates at Tiger Stadium, he met me once the ceremony was over, gave me a handshake, and presented me with a gift. It was a copy of “Strictly Speaking,” a book by Edwin Newman of NBC News. Inside the cover was a handwritten note that began “Benny, as the most talented student in my first journalism class …” I must be honest here. I do not remember much about the book, but those words, I remember. Though he was no longer my teacher, he continued to inspire me.

 

Sadly, the book was lost in a house fire in 1988. But those opening words of his note have forever remained etched in my memory as a source of great pride. I hope my career has been for him as well.

Thank you, Mr. Wylie, for opening the door to a career I never imagined. You did what the special teachers do: you encouraged me, challenged me, pushed me, motivated me, and never let me take shortcuts.

 

Who would have thought a student who gave you “as a strong southerly wind blew out of the south” as the lead on his first writing assignment would make it as far as however far I am perceived to have made it? But I say without any hesitation, there would have been no The Rogers Report without you.

 

I am proud of The Rogers Report and what it has hopefully meant to others through these 50 years. I hope Mr. Wylie is as well.

 

NOTE: Benny posted this little piece on Facebook on November 27, 2025. Thanks for the kind words, Benny. Yes, I am definitely proud of your most distinguished career and life path, and the very small part that I got to play in it. 

      The Image That Brought Him Back to You

The year was 1942. The world was ablaze. Japan had bombed Pearl Harbor the previous December, and the United States was ramping up for war. There was no way of predicting what the future might hold.

They had met a couple of years earlier when she was just 15 or 16. He had hired her itinerant farm labor family to pick his corn crop, and it was love at first sight. But suddenly that love had been put on hold. Now he had been drafted and was headed to the Pacific. Who knew whether they would ever see each other again? She had this portrait made so he could carry her with him. It traveled to Hawaii, then Guam, and finally to the Philippines and the islands in between. He saw some very awful images during his travels, but at the end of each day, he reflected upon this image. She got him through the day, and he never forgot her.

Some three to four years later, he returned from the Pacific Theatre of war, physically unscathed, and eager to move on with his life.  He found her immediately, and they wasted no more time. They got married in October, less than a month before her twentieth birthday on November 12, 1945. Today, she would have been 100 years old. I worked on this old photo for your birthday, Mama, removing all the years of wear and tear and giving it some color. It surely had seen some rough times. Restoring it has restored our memories of you. I hope you like it! Oh, and happy 100th birthday! 

 A Nation of Immigrants???

“We are a nation of immigrants!” Have you ever heard someone shout this idiotic claim? I beg to differ, but it seems so elementary that it should be unnecessary. But some people are not able to think for themselves so I will explain it for them. I was born in this country. Therefore, I am not an immigrant. I am a native born citizen. I am a native American—don’t get me wrong, I am not claiming to be of American Indian heritage. Nonetheless, I am a native American. I did not migrate to this country from another country.

My parents were born here, as were all my grandparents, great-grandparents, great-great-grandparents, and 3G-grandparents. I’m pretty sure that if I were able to document any further back than this in my family tree that I would eventually find an ancestor who immigrated to this country. But that “immigrant” status is not something that is passed down from one generation to the next. If you are born in this country to parents who are legal American citizens, then you are not an immigrant. I would hazard a guess that there are several hundred million people who meet this criterion, so to say that we are a nation of immigrants is simply idiotic. If you have ever muttered these words, think about it! 

 

 

 A Facebook post from July 16, 2021: 

This was her, 50 years ago.

Long story short: I met her in November 1970. We had our first date in January 1971. I asked her to marry me in February. We got married July 16, 50 years ago today. I guess we rushed it, but as I explained to her, it took me 23 years to find her and I did not want to waste another minute. She gave meaning to my little insignificant life. It has been a wonderful journey. Thank you, dear Lord (and thank you, too, dear Judy), for enriching me beyond all monetary wealth. Happy Golden Day, Babe. My love for you has grown by a factor of at least 50.

 

 

College: Affordable for Everyone  

 

Here's an example of my college expenses back when no one could afford college. This is for everything except books and incidentals. Coming from a family of low-earning manual laborers, I don't know how we managed it without taking on 40-year loans. It's certainly good that our very intelligent and benevolent government decided to make college "affordable for everyone." Don't ya think? The "problem" that never existed was a lot better than our government's solution. That's my thinking.
                                          

                   

 A little recycling project: The Texas silhouette is carved from some oak hardwood flooring material left over from a project done about 40 years ago. The letters were cut from the top of an old maple (I think) bedroom dresser, probably much older than 40 years. It is about 30 inches tall and wide.