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she heard the paper smack against the sidewalk outside her dormitory Ellen rushed outside and tore it open. What she saw made her gasp aloud.
    The
Gazette
had played her story on the front page.
    After that there were other stories. A ninety-year-old runner attempting a final race in memory of her recently deceased husband; a Little League coach who had taken three boys from his son’s team into his home when their parents turned out to be drug dealers. The list grew.
    Two weeks before graduation Ellen learned of an entry-level opening in the sports department at the
Gazette
.
    “They told us we’d need more experience, but I’m going to go for it, Daddy,” Ellen told her father that night on the telephone. “Think I have a chance?”
    “Are you kidding, honey? They’re probably hoping you’ll ask for an interview. Otherwise they might lose you to the competition.”
    “Pray for me, will you?”
    She knew the request would make her dad smile. He had raised them in the Catholic church, and at first when Ellen started attending a Protestant church he had been discouraged, disappointed in her decision. But he was used to the idea now and seemed to enjoy her open discussion of prayer.
    “I’ll pray, honey. Now get back to school and get that job.”
    The interview came one week before graduation. Ellen bought a new skirt and jacket for the occasion and then worried that she was overdressed. She was the picture of professionalism as she walked up the marble steps and went inside, but she was assailed by doubts.
I’m too young…I don’t have enough experience… They don’t want a woman sports writer… I should turn around and go home… Who am I kidding?
    She made her way through the newsroom and into the sports department just as she remembered the words John Dower had spoken to her senior class: “When
you leave hereyou’ll move off to a small-town paper, which, if you’re lucky, might publish three times a week. You’ll work every department, every beat, and make half of what it costs to survive. You’ll do that for five years before anyone at the
Gazette
will even consider bringing you in for an interview
.”
    Ellen entered the sports editor’s office and the first person she saw was John Dower. He smiled kindly and motioned for Ellen to sit down. There was no mention of her inexperience.
    An hour later she left with her first job offer.
    She called her parents with the news.
    “I don’t know, Ellen,” her mother said, her voice filled with concern. “I’ll worry about you out late at night covering sports games in a city like Detroit. Working with all those men. You’ll have to be so careful, dear. Are there any other women in the department?”
    “No, but I’ve made a lot of good friends, Mom. I’ll be fine.”
    “I just wonder if it’s smart for a young lady to be involved in a job surrounded by men.”
    Then her father got on the line. “Honey, I knew you could do it!” He was bursting with pride. “Aaron and the girls will be so happy when they hear about this.”
    “I’ll be covering high school sports for a while, but that’s fine with me. Can you believe it, Dad? Me? A full-time staff reporter for the
Gazette?
”
    “It’s what you’ve always wanted, honey.”
    “As far back as I can remember.”
    “Before you know it you’ll be covering U of M games. Then I’ll be down every week.”
    Ellen laughed. The Barretts had lived in Ann Arbor fifteen years earlier and her father was fanatical about Wolverine football. “So that’s why you taught me all that stuff about sports.”
    “You better believe it. I’ll expect sideline passes to your first U of M assignment.”
    Graduation came and went, and Ellen began working sixty-hour weeks. She covered more high school sports than shethought possible. Newspaper copy was measured in column inches, and most of Ellen’s assignments carried a maximum length of twelve inches. But there were times when she was given more in-depth