‘Newshound with a heart.’ Former Herald-Leader publisher was case study in caring leadership

Because of a family obligation, I missed the visitation this week for retired Lexington Herald-Leader editor and publisher Tim Kelly, who passed away May 3.

But I want to pay my respects. I worked for Tim at the Herald-Leader from 1989, when he joined the paper as managing editor, through 1997, when I left to enter the ministry full-time. He became editor in 1991 and was named publisher in 1996.

To me, he was the archetype of what a leader should be: engaged, demanding and compassionate all at the same time — no mean feat. And he was also funny.

Tim followed the legendary John Carroll into the editor’s job. John was widely regarded as among the best in the nation. He ended up running the Los Angeles Times’ newsroom.

When he departed and Tim moved up, I thought, “Those are awfully big shoes to fill. I wonder if he can do it.”

He could and did.

What I remember most about Tim was how kind he could be—a hard-charging newshound, yes. But he was a newshound with a heart.

I’m a member of a Facebook group made up of Herald-Leader alums from the Carroll and Kelly era. When Tim passed, people posted tribute after tribute to his generosity as a boss, to the boosts he gave their careers and their self-confidence.

Here’s my story.

In a joint decision, John and Tim asked me in 1990 to switch from covering business to become instead the newspaper’s religion writer. They wanted to expand our coverage of churches and spiritual trends.

I not only agreed, but immediately loved the change. The religion beat and I were (sorry) a match made in heaven. It was one of the few jobs — maybe the only job — I’ve ever held where I woke up every morning looking forward to going to work.

But the one professional thing I wanted to do more than cover the religion beat was to write books. Early on in my career becoming an author hadn’t worked out, which was part of how I’d ended up in newspaper journalism.

Then, while I was on the religion beat, I unexpectedly got an opportunity to write a softcover book about a country music star.

The problem was, to meet my short deadline, I’d need a leave of absence from the Herald-Leader.

I went to talk to Tim, to see whether I could get extended time off. I explained what a big deal this was to me. He agreed to the leave.

Then he said, “What kind of advance are they paying you?”

By which he meant, how much was the book publishing house giving me up front to cover my lost wages and research.

I told him.

“That’s ridiculous,” he said, looking irritated. “That’s not enough.”

I returned to my desk in the newsroom. He got on the phone, called somebody he happened to know at the publishing house, and negotiated me a larger advance that would keep me from financial distress.

There’s no universe in which I was one of his star reporters. I had no clout. I just covered a beat I enjoyed and did my best. I ranked four tiers below him on the organizational chart. Still, he intervened for me.

When the country music book came out, it performed well enough that the publishing house offered me a contract for a second book, this one on modern-day miracles. The new book would be more in-depth and released in hardback. It was a step up.

It would also require at least six months off from the Herald-Leader.

I went to see Tim again. I explained the situation, said I knew I was making an inconvenient request.

He called human resources downstairs. After a brief conversation, he hung up. HR’s word was no. It was against company rules to grant a second leave-of-absence within such a short time.

Tim paused and thought.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “We’ll find a workaround. We’ll make this happen.”

I thanked him.

“I like to help my people reach their dreams,” he said.

Much later, after I’d left the newspaper’s staff for good, I was asked to speak to a break-out group at the Kentucky Press Association’s annual convention.

Walking down a hallway, I bumped into Tim.

“Prather!” he said. “What are you writing these days? Doing anything new?”

“As a matter of fact I am,” I said. “I’m trying my hand at writing fiction.”

He harrumphed. “That’s not new. Everything you ever wrote for us was fiction.”

He grinned, then bustled off to his next meeting.

In any company, the boss sets the tone for everyone else. Tim set a wonderful tone in the Herald-Leader’s newsroom and ultimately for the whole organization.

We who worked for him knew he cared deeply about the news—but that he also cared about us. And we worked harder and better for that knowledge. Happy, fulfilled, valued employees are more productive than unhappy, blunted, expendable ones.

When Tim told me he liked to help others reach their dreams, I never doubted him, although normally I was as skeptical as any reporter of people’s motives. You could see it in everything he did. You can’t have a better boss than that.

Paul Prather is pastor of Bethesda Church near Mount Sterling. You can email him at pratpd@yahoo.com.