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Mary Ambrose on Aug 13, 2007 at 09:32:05 said:

Remembering Chauncey

By Ketaki Gokhale

Chauncey Bailey, a 37-year veteran of the news industry and the editor of the Oakland Post, was shot last week. Even though I still don’t understand how such a thing could have happened to man who was simply going about, doing things as he’d always done them, I am sure of one thing: I was privileged to know him. My path crossed with his in the spring of last year, when I worked for the Oakland Post. I wasn’t there for a long time, but my memories of Chauncey are vivid, and we kept in touch. I imagine his life as sort of a patchwork of such glittering acquaintances. He was that sort of person.

I came in for my interview, but like most interviews when you’re fresh out of college and don’t have a whit of experience, they didn’t hit me with any tough questions. I walked out of that office feeling confident, cocky even — until I met Chauncey, that is.

In that typical way of his, he first examined me with a squint and a sidelong look. He proceeded to grill me about my credentials, found them lacking, examined the stories I was working on, and then told me who to call.

That was his way. He was brusque and to-the-point. Alarming at first, but you grew to like it after a while. You got the sense that he barked at you because he cared.

It was never more apparent than on Tuesday night — deadline night, when Chauncey, after a week frantically pursing stories all over Oakland, would sit down to churn them out. And when he was done, his night was just beginning. He would head over to the production room, watching copy being laid out, making terse demands, dictating captions and headlines.

In those moments, when we were all at our most worn and weary, Chauncey’s commitment to journalism would glow softly, like a lamp. Sometimes he’d lose his temper and snap if something wasn’t the way he wanted it to be, but, almost instantaneously, his voice would go soft, as if he was remembering what was important. And you could see clearly then, for him, newspapers were a labor of love.

By most standards, Chauncey and I didn’t have a whole lot in common. He was a 57-year-old African American man, and I a 23-year-old Indian American woman. But he’d often walk me to the shady BART stop in downtown Oakland after a late Tuesday night at the office. On these walks, he’d talk about my career plans. He encouraged me to apply for journalism fellowships and to seek out new opportunities.

Sometimes, I asked about his life, and he’d tell me about his son, who lived far away who he wished he saw more often. Sometimes we didn’t talk at all. Almost each time, he mentioned how dangerous the streets were, and how important it was to not walk alone.

Chauncey hurtled through his days, working non-stop, at all hours; for his part, unafraid. The best thing we can do to honor his memory is to do the same. We need to ask all the tough questions he didn’t get around to asking. We need to take care of our young. And we need to brave dark places, in the hope that we can shed light upon them with our stories.

Lee Hubbard on Aug 12, 2007 at 10:42:27 said:

RIP Chancey Bailey. You will be missed. You were direct and too the point, but you were also a spotlight for other journalist in your coverage of the African American community.

Dale on Aug 09, 2007 at 19:24:41 said:

This is one of the biggest set backs for the African American community. It's time we educate our young brothers and sisters. It's time for us as a community to stop killing each other and start loving each other.

Rest In Peace Chauncey Bailey, we will always remember you.

Dale

Carol Griffin-Holmes on Aug 08, 2007 at 12:52:32 said:

I met Chauncey when I started a community organization to help youth at risk and young unwed mothers to obtain Microsoft certifications. I asked Chauncey to write something about my organization and the very next week, there it was. That is what Chauncey was all about. He will be greatly missed. What a tragedy, what a loss.

J. Nayer Hardin on Aug 05, 2007 at 16:08:03 said:

When the shock of Chauncey Bailey’s murder is over, I hope at least this much attention is focused on his writings as on his death. What a powerful body of work he created that’s as relevant as when written years ago or last week. I'm sure Edward R. Murrow is proud of Chauncey Bailey too.
The day Chauncey was murdered, there were not may web pages up on him and no video or images. Now he's the lead story on the 6 o'clock news. We should have read and listened more to him when he was alive.
Chauncey is now a spirit, not a ghost. We should all live up to the standards he set as he raised the bar for journalism. I pray the media rises to the upgrade and shifts its allegiance from the corporations and government to the highest good for the people, like Chauncey did his entire professional life.
When we were coming up, the airwaves belonged to the people and freedom of the press was key to the survival of our society. During his career the airwaves and most newspapers became owned by corporations with pro government slants and freedom became a distant concept from the past.
We as a nation must change too. Let's take in the words of this great spirit and act on the ideas he presented. Begin with the prophetic "Genocide or Homicide? Black-On-Black Murders."
Well done Chauncey Bailey. Well Done.

Krea Gomez on Aug 03, 2007 at 11:55:02 said:

I met Chauncey at the PNS office years ago and was always delighted to see him in various arenas around the bay area. There was something special about the way that Chauncey engaged with community members; he remembered that they were the real reporters, not just the readers of news. He always asked great questions and listened to the answers with intent. You were blessed as an organizer if Chauncey chose to cover your event, issue or campaign. Chauncey will be truly missed.

Patty Jones on Aug 03, 2007 at 09:41:55 said:

May Mr. Bailey's desire to bring about a new and more prosperous lifesytle for his fellow man through self-worth be embraced and his death not be just a statistic.

Mysterium fidei