With 38 years at the Boston Globe, three Pulitzers and a book about art theft in the works, Stephen Kurkjian was full of witticisms and hardy advice when he talked investigative reporting with The Herald staff Sunday:
"What we do is real, real important."
"Reporters are the most honest brokers in the city."
"Don't take advantage of people. It's really important not to take advantage of people."
He spoke in the dizzying and knowing fashion of a reporter who's covered nearly four decades of news - from the Iran-contra affair to sexual abuse in the Boston Catholic church - jumping from how to handle court clerks in hypothetical investigations to filing daily stories when he happened to be the only reporter at the first day of Woodstock in the summer of '69.
Talking alternately about the tenacity needed of an investigative reporter and the gentleness needed of any writer, he elucidated the timeless difficulty of our craft: We ask people for their stories and offer them nothing directly in return. That is, except a critical eye on our surroundings and a check on power through the power of the press.
There's the rub. Many of you reading this column may have already faced this dilemma: Why speak to a reporter? If you have a vested interest in a topic - say, you're an activist or a politician or a marketer - you'll likely be happy to share your story with the paper.
Or maybe you have nothing to gain. Offering your reaction to an event, helping a reporter gather data, sharing your frustrations with a new policy - what do you get from putting your name in the paper?
Nothing. You will obtain no personal gain from speaking to the press. All you will do is enhance the quality of the paper that you hold right now and the learning experience for other readers who, like you, use this as a portal to understand their world.
And we appreciate your stories. We hope we handle them with care.
Kurkjian broke his usual rough-and-tumble tone when he remembered a time when he couldn't bring himself to value getting the story over compassion for his sources: "This wasn't so easy with Vietnam."
Speaking slowly and looking down, he remembered calling the family of a fallen vet whose name he had seen on a list of the dead.
"Hello?" he recalled the cheery, unknowing voice he heard on the end of the line.
That was his cue to hang up, he said. The story could come later.



