We talk about giants in society.

They are the trailblazers, the ones who take huge risks and believe there’s no reason to live half a life.

They push limits and ride high in the saddle.

Bill Hartman was one of those giants.

We lost a titan this week, and the Texas newspaper world and the business community have both lost one of its greats.

A native Texan and Baylor graduate, Mr. Hartman wrote about the small-town communities where he lived and worked. He was much more interested in the youngster who earned a blue ribbon at the county fair than a big-shot politician.

He was involved in his community. According to the Fort Bend County Historical Commission’s Oral History project, Hartman served on the Rosenberg/Richmond Chamber of Commerce, the Rosenberg Rotary Club, the Economic Development Council, the boards of Polly Ryon Hospital and Richmond State School and was active with the Fort Bend County Fair.

Three generations of Hartmans served as president of the Texas Daily Newspaper Association.

He not only served as president of the Baseball Writers Association of America, he loved writing about the Astros from their press box. He prized his dogs and horses, and there were pictures and ribbons in his office reflecting a love of riding and competing.

When I started at this newspaper, I had no idea the owner had an office right next door. We seldom saw him, but we knew Mr. Hartman critiqued and read everything we published.

His keen eye for prose and style earned my respect, but I was also terrified of him.

The first time I got a letter from Mr. Hartman, my hands shook as I opened the envelope. My column was a good one, he wrote, and closed with “keep firing.”  I framed that note and kept it over my desk for years.

When I criticized a big box store in town, he sent me an email – next time, include the offending company’s name.

Call ‘em out when they do right and nail ‘em when they do wrong was the message.

He was an outstanding writer. For years, he covered the Masters Golf tournaments from the sidelines, just as he did the Astros.

Well into his 70s, Mr. Hartman wrote a popular weekly Sunday column, “Sunday Slants,” and I loved reading about his family, the people he admired and the causes he championed and condemned.

There was no guessing where Bill Hartman stood on an issue, and he was never afraid to call out the weasels in public office and those who tried to slide underneath public decency.

He was an outstanding editor. Years ago, Lee Hartman asked me to write a story about a deaf baseball player on his son’s team. The father was also deaf and Lee thought the story was one I’d like to write.

Before the story was published, Lee said his dad wanted to read it first. I sweated and inspected every word in that feature story. I sent him a final draft and was shaking when I saw the editing marks on the page. All the changes Mr. Hartman made were absolutely right on the money. He trimmed the fat so the prose was lean and accurate. The parts he cut needed to go as they detracted from the main story.

I still have the marked-up page and reference it as to how to make a story pop off the page. The lesson – keep my eye on the heart of the story.

As the years passed, Mr. Hartman and I formed a friendship. He insisted I call him “Bill,” and I would but I was never comfortable doing that.

You see, Bill Hartman was a man who earned the esteemed title of “Mr.”

There are few people these days who can point to a lifetime of service to their community and a commitment to small-towns that are the country’s lifeblood. His many newspaper’s main directive was to cover those communities with dignity and thoroughness. Never forget the little guy and gal counted.

My condolences and prayers are with the Hartman family. Your dad and grandfather loved you all and left an enviable legacy in capable hands.

Keep firing, bh.

You’ll be missed.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.