Every town with a newspaper had one – the society editor.

In bygone days, the society editor was a woman who reported upcoming teas, weddings, receptions, galas and social events.

She knew the correct way to list the attendants in a wedding, how to address a minister and the best gossip source in town.

The Herald-Coaster’s society editor was Betty Dawes Humphrey, and the grand dame, or grand heifer as she might call herself, passed away this week at the age of 88.

And she made the most of those 88 years.

She started her over 50-year career in the newspaper business balancing a manual typewriter on wooden crates as the printing presses were rolling.

It wasn’t long before her knack for writing in a conversational style and her friendships with hundreds of people made her the best choice for the Herald Coaster’s family editor.

Her office was located in the middle of the newsroom, and her desk was cluttered with things Betty loved – photos of her family, newspaper proof sheets and her legendary Rolodex with the phone numbers of almost every single person in Fort Bend County.

New reporters were taken under Betty’s wings, encouraged and taught the correct way to report the news. “Children,” she instructed us “are reared. Animals are raised.”

Fancy, three-syllable writing was for those unwilling to get details. Plain factual writing in a conversational tone was her style.

Betty made sure we gave her tips and information for her “Bits from Betty” column, written as if you were sitting in the beauty parlor with your best friends trading gossip and local news.

One of the events Betty loved was the Fort Bend County Fair. She usually announced the parade lineup from a grandstand in downtown Richmond, and she always added her own side note to groups as they passed by.

When intern Kim Kovar was taking pictures near the grandstand one year, Betty called her name out on the loudspeaker and complimented Kim on her reporting skills.

Kim wanted to dive underneath the closest folding chair but she knew better than to tell Betty “no.”

Betty took me with her to the Fair’s senior luncheon once or twice, and I was usually left handing out plates while she visited with every single table in the building.

Former Fort Bend Herald editor Bob Haenel worked with Betty for over 30 years and remembers her nosiness was what made her so successful.

It wasn’t unusual to go to lunch with Betty and she’d practically fall out of her chair to eavesdrop on the people talking next to her, he said.

But Bob, like most folks who knew Betty, loved her.

If you were single, she’d tried to get you married, he said. If you didn’t want to tell your age, Betty got that number out of you no matter how long the digging took.

She loved her children and was a bragging grandmother. She had her share of heartache with the loss of her son. Perhaps that’s why she was always so kind and patient to whoever came in with an obituary. They found an open heart and a patient ear in her office.

And it didn’t matter what color or nationality you were. Betty knew people from all walks of life, and I watched her talk with everyone, from janitors to mayors, with equal amounts of respect and friendliness.

There was no “I’m better than you are” in her world.

Your child’s birth, First Communion, Quinceanera, baptism, wedding, reception, accomplishment – all were important to her and she made sure your family was represented with the knowledge someone knew you mattered.

I’d bet there’s hundreds of well-worn scrapbooks with a “Bits from Betty” column glued inside because she knew the importance of having one’s name in the local paper.

I have at least a dozen of the holiday cookbooks the newspaper published, and she could write a column faster than anyone in the office.

She critiqued my stories in a frank, honest manner, and her advice was right on the money.

When I’m writing, I hear her voice, her wonderful laugh and her warning to not park in her spot.

Betty, I hope the angels know someone’s recording their every move and listening in to every conversation.

Make room for her at heaven’s table, Lord. Like all of us, you’ll be glad you did.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.