ON THE RECORD

Jean Campbell still saves a stack of newspaper clippings in her apartment at Masonic Village at Lafayette Hill from her years as a newspaper reporter back in the late 1960s.

As a writer for the Roxborough Review, the Roxborough/ Manayunk Advertiser and the Philadelphia Bulletin, Jean covered numerous civic association meetings, school board meetings and city zoning meetings and traveled downtown to cover meetings of the school board of Philadelphia and the zoning board of adjustment.

She got her start in 1969 when she saw an ad in the Advertiser seeking a news correspondent and decided to apply for the job. In addition to writing about news events, she authored a monthly column titled “Ramblings,” in which she would highlight birthdays and wedding anniversaries.

The assistant editor for the Bulletin, looking to “keep up with the competition,” was impressed with Jean’s writing and offered her a job at that paper, too, covering community activities.

“I worked for both papers at the same time,” Jean said. “It was a lot of work, but a lot of fun. I met great people and learned a lot about the community.”

At times, it was difficult working from her home office with four children to watch and a husband at work. If she couldn’t find a sitter, Jean would have to take one of her children with her to a meeting.

Jean loved seeing her byline in the paper. One of the articles that moved her the most was about a black family who moved into the area in the 1960s, during the height of segregation.

“Everyone was so up in arms about it, but the family was very nice,” she said. “I saw the mother in the kindergarten schoolyard and had her join our carpool. One of the people in our carpool dropped out because she didn’t like the family. You learn a lot about people when something like that happens.”

Jean continued her stint as a reporter until 1974, when the executive director at Interac, a local community mental health center, offered her a job in the public relations/community relations department.

She contributed articles to the center’s monthly publications and was the face of Interac at the same civic associations she once covered for the newspapers.

Before retiring, she worked as an executive assistant in administration at the Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine for 18 years.

Jean, who grew up in South Philadelphia, considers herself a “self-taught” writer. She didn’t study journalism in high school and didn’t attend college. But she was an avid reader and always enjoyed playing Scrabble and word games.

“I used to read the works of Hemingway and Faulkner and the classics of Mark Twain,” she said. “There was also this French author I admired, Guy de Maupassant. Through reading his works, I learned how to construct a story and get it to flow to hold the reader’s interest until the end. That’s what inspired me to write.”

Jean and her husband, Anthony, moved to Roxborough, a suburb of Philadelphia, in 1964 and lived in the same threebedroom home for decades. Jean stayed in the house after her husband died but moved to Masonic Village about two years ago.

“I wasn’t ready to move, but one day I was outside watering the lawn and thought to myself, ‘I’m tired of this.’” she said. “All the responsibility was too much. I looked at five different places, and Masonic Village was last. I got a very good vibe when I came through the door. I took a tour and thought it was very clean, and everyone greeted you. It has been a great experience, and I’ve made a lot of friends.”

Jean recently joined the gardening group and is currently secretary of the Retirement Living Association. She enjoys visiting with her four children, six grandchildren and one great-granddaughter.

While she doesn’t write much anymore, Jean did submit an old poem that was published in Masonic Village’s resident newsletter. She’ll always have memories of a long and fun career, which she can reminisce about while reading her clippings.

“It was a great experience,” she said.

Gifts

by Jean Campbell

A cloud drifting by, A bird in the sky,

Do they sometimes make you wonder Who gives us all these wondrous gifts, The sun, the sky, the thunder.

What makes the grass and trees smell sweet

After a springtime rain

Why does the sun hide in back of a cloud

And soon peek out again.

One day the sea is smooth as glass,

The next a raging, frightening mass Of foam and froth and surging waves That plunges men to watery graves.

It must be someone with infinite learning

Who lights the stars and keeps them burning

Who casts the sunset in a golden hue Who paints the sky a sparkling blue.

The warmth of the sun

The green of the sod, All these things are gifts from God.

The majesty of a snowcapped mountain

The grandeur of a bubbling fountain

These are gifts of wealth untold, These are gifts worth more than gold.