A passionate, if impractical, view. (NCEW Foundation Projects and programs for journalism education).

Many weeks and many historic events now separate us from the 9 a.m. convening of the NCEW board of directors in Pittsburgh on Sept. 11. Those who attended will remember the wrenching hours that followed Tomi Fontaine's frightened announcement only a few minutes later as she burst into the room to announce that the World Trade Center had been hit by a jet. A surreal pall hung over the board for the remainder of the day, as officers, board members, and assembled others tried to conduct NCEW business, monitor unfolding events, confer with offices back home, and try to make sense of it all.

With confusion and uncertainty plaguing the plodding conduct of the items on the meeting agenda, everyone was gradually becoming aware that the 55th annual NCEW convention would not happen. Cancellations already had begun pouring into the hotel reservation desk. Several members had e-mailed the listserv to inquire about the status of the convention before making a final decision on whether to travel to Pittsburgh.

President Fred Fiske called for a meeting at 6 p.m. to decide the convention's fate. Morgan McGinley conveyed the sentiments of his publisher, Reid MacCluggage, who insisted that propriety demanded cancellation.

MacCluggage was to have been honored with the 2001 Ida B. Wells Award. Others echoed that sentiment. Charley Reinken recalled the freezing night of Nov. 22, 1963, when his high school band endured the trauma of performing at a Friday night football game in the Texas Panhandle that played on despite the assassination earlier that day of President John F. Kennedy. Reinken's testimony riveted those in the room as he recounted the feelings that have stayed with him for nearly 40 years as a result of that decision to let life go on. I, too, was riveted, because I was there, on the field with the opposing team.

After several expressions of concurrence that the convention should not proceed, I offered a counter view. I suggested that we go on, diminished though the convention would be. I argued that, despite the shock and horror in the wake of terrorist attacks on the heart and psyche of the nation, the objective of terrorism's perpetrators was the surrender of resolve. NCEW, in a small act of defiant resolution to carry on, should not surrender to terrorists' objectives.

Clearly, that was not the practical solution. Clearly, the reasons not to go on made more sense under the numbing weight of what had happened earlier in the day, the horrible consequences becoming more apparent with each passing hour.

Dissent cast in conviction

Fiske urged that the vote be unanimous for canceling the convention. In his listserv message recounting the board's conduct of business, he noted "overwhelming" support for that action. There was, however, one dissent - cast not in a spirit of resistance to the wisdom of the majority but in the conviction that the minutes should reflect some affirmation that the flame of devotion to all that NCEW stands for should be permanently recorded.

In declining Fred's summons to unanimity, I meant no offense. I believe that solitary vote, symbolic though it may have been, was also a necessary profession of faith in the ideals of NCEW. If my colleagues judge that vote to have been in error, then it's an error I am willing to live with. But NCEW advances despite the unprecedented events of 2001, and the Foundation endures in support of its good work.

As the days dwindle toward the end of this momentous year, indulge your president's petition for support of the Foundation. Before the calendar closes out 2001, consider your tax-deductible contribution a vote of confidence in the resilience of this organization - a tangible expression of the determination to carry on.

NCEW Foundation president Tommy Denton is editorial page of The Roanoke Times in Virginia. He is an NCEW past president.