Roger Witherspoon submitted his recollections in 2003. 

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“In 1973, I was working as a political reporter for the Star-Ledger of Newark, N.J., covering the State House in Trenton. Greg Morrison, who covered the State House on legislative days for CAU radio in Philadelphia, told me a group of Black journalists from the region were going to get together and try to form an organization.

I had been in an organization called Black Perspective in NYC in the late ’60s, which eventually collapsed as there were only 11 of us at the time. I rode with Greg to Philadelphia for what became a series of meetings every other week.

The process of putting together ABJ took several weeks, as there were discussions, arguments, and eventually consensus around several issues.

There were two issues which stand out.

One of the most contentious and far reaching was who exactly could be a member.

Our numbers were small in those days, and some felt that the organization should include all those who were interested – such as the minister who was letting us meet in his church and sat in on the meetings. We quickly decided that if this were to be a professional organization, then only professionals could participate – and Chuck (Stone) informed the minister that he could no longer attend.

But there were also issues within the business itself as to who was or was not a “professional.” This was not a little matter. Some of the early chapters of NABJ would try to include everyone at an organization from Black producers to janitors.

The initial argument centered on the possible membership of television cameramen. In those days – pre-video – the cameramen toted large film cameras. They shot what the reporter told them to shoot, and turned over the film case to a motorcycle runner, who took it back to the station for processing and editing by a film editor. The film editor then showed it to the producer who told a writer what to include in the spot to appear on air. All of these people had separate union positions.

Since the TV cameramen lacked the type of discretion for independent news judgment that their print counterparts had, some of us felt they should be considered technicians, and excluded.

I believe it was Trudy (Haynes) who said the cameramen were an integral part of the news-gathering operation and needed to be considered part of the news team. In her view, comparisons between similar positions in separate media were not valid because the operations were so different.

The compromise, advanced by Chuck and Acel (Moore), was to have a bifurcated credentials group, with the electronic members deciding who in their field should be eligible and the print folks making decisions from their media. That compromise paved the way for the split vice presidents at NABJ – one for print and one for broadcast.

The second dealt with the nature of PABJ itself: would it be a social organization or an activist group dedicated to tackling thorny problems of racism in the media?

The issue surfaced with the seemingly simple question of when and how should we announce our formation.

There was a suggestion that we hold an event, such as a dinner-dance or series of small social gatherings to draw in members. The theory was that in time we could be large enough to actually begin to tackle real issues and accomplish something.

The counter argument was that if we started out being known as a social organization, then we would always be viewed as a social organization – little more than a professional frat. The decision, therefore, was not to announce our formation until we had something concrete to talk about.

At the time, jobs outside the newsroom – freelance writing, teaching, etc. – were an issue for us. The editors and deans who had the authority to hire freelance writers did not know or trust Blacks. As a freelance writer in Europe and North Africa in the 60s, I encountered white editors who would pay a $25 “finder’s fee” for stories I uncovered, and then give them to white writers who were paid real money to rewrite my work.

Acel had had some discussions with Temple University. The school’s journalism program at the time was 25% minority – a fact they were trumpeting loudly. But their faculty – including part time, adjunct staff – was all white. Acel suggested we approach the school about opening up its faculty to Black professionals.

Temple became PABJ’s first project. We compiled a list of resumes of members who might be interested in teaching a journalism course for Acel and a small committee to present to the school’s administration. At the ensuing meeting, Temple officials agreed to review the resumes and get back to the group.

We had anticipated that they would agree to “consider” the proposition of integrating their staff, though they probably had no plans to do so.

You have to remember the status of Blacks in the media at that time: All of your NYC newspapers throughout the ’70s had separate pay scales for white and Black reporters – a practice common throughout the nation. The NY Newspaper Guild threatened to strike when Blacks at the NY Daily News formed a committee to meet with management and discuss disparities in pay and assignments.

Discrimination was rampant and open. In January 1972, when I became the first Black reporter covering the N.J. State House, I had a desk in the basement since Blacks were not wanted in the press wing on the first floor between the Senate and Assembly chambers. The mistreatment of Acel – who at various times had been assigned to the janitorial and kitchen staffs – was legendary.

So we had prepared a press release essentially stating that Temple University had been accused of discrimination in its hiring of journalism faculty and had agreed to consider adding qualified Black faculty from a list of professionals supplied by the newly formed Philadelphia Association of Black Journalists. That story appeared the same day in print, on radio, and television.

Temple U, of course, felt sandbagged, but had no choice but to seriously consider integrating its staff.

That first success solidified the image of PABJ as an organization to be reckoned with, one which seriously meant to challenge discrimination in all forms of the media. And it launched the chapter on a permanent future course of service, rather than socializing. It differentiated PABJ from many NABJ chapters which came later, and chose the social route.

In those days, PABJ operated on bi-weekly dues of $5, which Chuck insisted we owed whether we attended meetings or not. Towards the end of our first year, it was clear we needed a larger financial base, and Tyree suggested a dinner dance and hiring a firm that specialized in events. We agreed, even though it meant cleaning out the treasury – which only had about $400.

But what drew a crowd was the notoriety of the organization, and the speakers. Ben Hooks, the first black FCC commissioner, was electrifying in discussing racism in the electronic media. Music was supplied by a little local music company called Gamble and Huff, whose stars mingled with the crowd. It was a perfect mix of business and pleasure and drew about 1,000 people. It set a standard for future events and brought PABJ to the attention of many Black journalists around the country who thought this was an organization and program they could emulate.”