Enquirer Columnist and UC Journalism Professor dies

When I arrived home late last Friday night (in fact it was early Saturday morning) I was met by my mom and dad, who I woke up on the way in the door. After making a few comments on the closeness of the UC-West Virginia game my mom asked me, “Did you hear anything about Jim Knippenberg?”

“No,” I responded. “Why? What happened?” I knew full well though that nothing good could have happened for my mom to bring up his name.

“They reported on the news tonight that he died,” she said. “Wow,” I said, with some amazement. “I just ran into him two weeks ago.”

(Local News outlets report on Knippenberg’s death:
http://www.newsrecord.org/sections/news/james-knippenberg-uc-adjunct-journalism-professor-dies-at-63-1.2065794
http://www.wcpo.com/news/local/story/Enquirer-Columnist-Jim-Knippenberg-Dead-At-63/joQOXgPr80aWN9lrUyEUDA.cspx
http://news.cincinnati.com/article/20091114/NEWS0104/311140005/1055/NEWS/Enquirer+writer+Knippenberg+dies)

That got me to reflecting on my former professor. Let’s start off with some short background.

Jim Knippenberg was an Elder grad and an Enquirer columnist. He also taught one class a quarter at UC, “Columns and Reviews,” a class I took in the winter of the 2008-2009 school year. He insisted that we call him ‘Jim’ even if he was old enough to be our grandpa. One time I called him to make sure we were still having class in inclement weather. “Mr. Knippenberg,” I said, “It’s Adam Niemeyer. I wanted to make sure we’re still having class today before I drive to school.”

“Adam,” he responded. “First, call me Jim. Second, I’m snowed in here on top of the hill. So we won’t have class. Enjoy the day off.”

He was a friendly guy and I guy that I consider the most influential journalism professor I’ve had in my two full years at UC. He told it like it was. He didn’t mince words, but he also encouraged us to continue pursuing our passions in journalism.

He’d bring clippings of news stories in. We’d read them, analyze them, and then discuss them. One of my favorite was a clip of a story in the paper that mentioned White Castle was running a Valentine’s Day special for couples to eat a “romantic dinner” at White Castle.

After reading the article he want around to each person in the room and asked questions like, “What do you think of the idea?” To the girls he asked, “What would you do if your boyfriend asked you to go to White Castle on a date?” To the guys, “Would you ever take your girlfriend to White Castle on Valentine’s Day?

Somehow that brought us around to talking about drinking. He asked everyone in the room, “Are you a happy drunk?” As I read the stories in the paper, written by former co-workers of Knippenberg, I laughed aloud. As John Kiesewetter, an Enquirer writer, wrote last week in tribute to a man referred to as ‘Knip’, “They weren't in the office every day to hear his catty, raunchy, irreverent, mostly unrepeatable, unprintable comments - and his laugh.”

And that’s what made class with him informative. Oh, and it was fun.

One day as class was getting ready to commence Jim turned and looked at me and said, “I have to talk to you. I know your whole family and life story now. You didn’t tell me you know my daughter.” I looked very puzzled as he went on to talk about my brother, using his first name, and one of my aunt’s (by her first name too). I guess he really did know everyone, as his colleagues recounted in the days after his death.

For one of my articles—which doubled as assignments—for his class I wrote about a West Side funeral home which started offering Elder themed caskets for Elder grads. Even though I can’t recall his exact thoughts on the situation, he did ask me if I’d like to be buried in the Elder themed casket. “Why not?” I asked back.

For some reason Jim loved to turn to my side of the room and ask me, “Adam, you’re an Elder guy, what do you think?” He’d bring up names of Elder people and Seton people that I knew, as everyone in the class stared at him in amazement.

Here are my stories/assignments from Jim’s class:
http://adamniemeyer.blogspot.com/2009/01/myron-rolle-goes-pro-in-something-other.html
http://adamniemeyer.blogspot.com/2009/01/put-me-in-coach.html
http://adamniemeyer.blogspot.com/2009/02/national-signing-day-features-local.html
http://adamniemeyer.blogspot.com/2009/02/nascar-not-immune-to-economic-downturn.html
http://adamniemeyer.blogspot.com/2009/02/maybe-sportsmanship-does-exist.html
http://adamniemeyer.blogspot.com/2009/02/tradition-never-graduates.html
http://adamniemeyer.blogspot.com/2009/03/post-100-usf-video-coordinator-assault.html
http://adamniemeyer.blogspot.com/2009/03/youngsters-murder-reminds-cincinnati.html

Yet the reason I felt he was the best teacher I have had to this point in time (and not to put down my other professors, they’ve all been great too) was he told our class the scary situations that faced us upon graduation. The news media business is changing day in and day out, and Jim had no problem reminding us of that on a day to day basis in class.

But he also parted us with some really good advice. He said, “All of you have talent. There’s a lot of great writers in this room. Keep pursuing your passions because you all have talent.” And that’s why I’m still writing here today, with as much passion and fervor for UC football, NASCAR and other topics which cross my eyes on a daily basis. I write because I want a future in the profession. And what better way than establishing myself here?

When I ran into Jim a few weeks ago he was walking to his class as I was transferring between two of my own. We chatted about how the quarter was going and I reminded him that my work with the football team was going well. “Damn,” he said. “I forgot about that. You guys are doing well. I walked by and saw something going on last week.”

I told him, “Well, I was standing over there,” pointing to my normal practice locale. “You know I can’t see that far,” he replied. “I’m old and blind.”

That’s the humor that Jim Knippenberg shared with my class last winter, and the world in his writing. Although he’s no longer with us, his advice to numerous college students will live on for some time to come. It’s already worn off on me.

I’m an Elder guy, and that’s what I think.
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If you want to read some of Jim’s stuff, here’s a link to the archive of his stories from the Cincinnati Enquirer: http://www.enquirer.com/columns/knip/index.html