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- <text id=91TT2774>
- <title>
- Dec. 16, 1991: Press:What's in a Middle Name?
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1991
- Dec. 16, 1991 The Smile of Freedom
- </history>
- <article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- NATION, Page 32
- PRESS
- What's in a Middle Name?
- </hdr><body>
- <p>Plenty. And some 300 curious journalists are watching the William
- Kennedy Smith trial on TV, like everyone else.
- </p>
- <p>By Joe Queenan/West Palm Beach
- </p>
- <p> In the world of journalism, there are datelines that burn
- forever in the crucible of memory: Berlin '45. Little Rock '57.
- Leopoldville '64. Chicago '68. Now a new one can be added: West
- Palm Beach '91.
- </p>
- <p> Some 300 journalists, not to mention innumerable
- tabloid-TV types from shows like A Current Affair and Hard Copy,
- have converged on this drowsy resort. Local TV news shows, with
- their marvelous ability to manufacture hysteria, pump images out
- to the heartland every night, creating the inaccurate impression
- that the trial is a drama conducted at a fever pitch and that
- the media coverage is a "zoo." A zoo it may be, but one with
- very small, very docile animals.
- </p>
- <p> The truth is, from the point of view of the working press,
- it's generally pretty dull stuff. Hours are spent hanging
- around the courthouse waiting to be one of the 16 reporters
- admitted to the drab little courtroom in which the case is being
- tried. The rest of the time, the hundreds of journalists
- (including several dozen from France, England, Germany, Spain
- and Italy) lounge around a makeshift media center watching Court
- TV, which they could do in their hotel rooms. At one point, a
- reporter sitting in a room full of 90 journalists, who are
- watching the trial on dozens of TVs, positions two tape
- recorders in front of a set, ensuring that she will have
- duplicate recordings of the television's audio portion. This is
- not quite the way Woodward and Bernstein brought down a
- President.
- </p>
- <p> Meanwhile dozens of photographers in the courtyard below
- laze about, waiting for the defendant or an important witness
- to come down, ignore them and bolt into a car.
- </p>
- <p> "It's unbelievably boring," says Evelyn Kusserow, a
- reporter for Germany's Stern magazine, as she sits in front of
- a TV in the offices of the Palm Beach Review watching public
- prosecutor Moira Lasch's performance. Minutes later, a camera
- crew from the German weekly Der Spiegel wanders in, ostensibly
- to film a roomful of American journalists watching the televised
- trial. Little do they know that one of the people they are
- filming is a fellow countrywoman. Thus the Germans from Der
- Spiegel have flown thousands of miles to cover the coverage of
- the trial, and end up with footage of a German reporter from
- Stern watching an American TV, while the trial takes place 300
- yards away. Sacco and Vanzetti it ain't.
- </p>
- <p> The event does have its inspiring moments. Steve Dunleavy,
- the Outback Geraldo Rivera, who cut his journalistic teeth at
- Rupert Murdoch's sensationalist New York Post and now does
- checkbook journalism for A Current Affair, regularly turns up
- in public places, stage-whispering into his cellular phone.
- Dunleavy actually becomes a cog in the machinery of justice when
- Smith's attorney, Roy Black, shreds the credibility of Anne
- Mercer, one of the alleged rape victim's principal witnesses,
- by accusing her of spicing up her testimony after receiving
- $40,000 from Dunleavy's show.
- </p>
- <p> Scant minutes after Mercer has been skewered by the
- defense, Dunleavy escorts her back to her car, then glides past
- rows of press cameras with a proud grin on his face. At one
- point the Current Affair star is overheard chatting with a
- colleague on the mobile phone. Then he abruptly breaks off and
- says conspiratorially, "I'll call you back later on a safe
- line."
- </p>
- <p> The journalistic horde seems to be split into two camps:
- those who are covering the trial and those who are covering the
- "media circus." Those who are covering the trial spend almost
- all their time watching TV, then rushing out to phones or TV
- cameras to utter the same phrases as their 200 peers. Those who
- are covering the media circus spend their time interviewing
- other journalists: reporters from the Miami Herald grill
- reporters from France-Soir, while reporters from Italy's La
- Repubblica patiently answer questions posed by reporters from
- the Palm Beach Post.
- </p>
- <p> The electronic media are somewhat more resourceful. The
- night before the trial, a popular local watering hole holds a
- look-alike contest for women who think they resemble presiding
- Circuit Judge Mary Lupo. A team from Geraldo Rivera's media
- empire turns up and obtains live footage of dozens of other
- journalists ordering Diet Pepsis and Campari-and-seltzers at the
- event. The cameraman zeroes in on the bartender as he mixes a
- drink and passes it to a thirsty reporter. Lights, camera,
- action. The cameraman works for the program Now It Can Be Told.
- Now it can be told that bartenders in Palm Beach mix
- Campari-and-seltzers for journalists from out of town? Why
- couldn't it be told before?
- </p>
- <p> Deep in their hearts, most journalists know that it's a
- waste of resources to have 300 reporters covering a murky rape
- trial in Southern Florida while the economy is disintegrating,
- the tropical rain forest is vanishing, the Bush Administration
- is stumbling, and the AIDS crisis is worsening. But the public
- seemingly can't get enough of the Kennedys, so reporters pour in
- from Italy, from France, from Spain, from Britain, from
- Manhattan, from everywhere. "I am here because of the Kennedy
- name," says Yvon Samuel of France-Soir. "Willie Smith is a
- nobody."
- </p>
-
- </body></article>
- </text>
-
-