THAT'S THE WAY IT IS VETERAN NEWS ANCHORS LIKE HAL FISHMAN HAVE BRIDGED THE CREDIBILITY GAP IN A DEMANDING BUSINESS.

Byline: Valerie Kuklenski Staff Writer

There are two ways to look at getting a TV news anchoring job in Los Angeles. It's either, ``Wow! L.A. - No. 2 market! I've made it!'' or ``Uh-oh. L.A. - No. 2 market. Where can I go if I lose this gig?''

Pinnacle or precipice.

Anchors, particularly those stars of the 10 or 11 p.m. shows, get all the perks a local station can dish out, from high-six- or low-seven-figure salaries and celebrity status to prime parking spaces and the doting attention of hair and makeup artists.

But all that can evaporate at the whim of station owners and managers looking for someone to take the fall for a disappointing ratings sweep. Moving up to No. 1 market New York or a network job is difficult, and moving to any smaller city means a cut in pay and a blow to the ego.

Despite the fact that this is a difficult, age-sensitive, glamour-hungry city, several veteran anchormen have somehow endured. Hal Fishman is one. The KTLA anchorman has been a fixture in L.A. for 40 years.

What distinguishes him from others in the field is that he never intended to go into television. The job practically fell into his lap, and he has remained a fixture on L.A. newscasts ever since. Instead of working his way up, he has paid his dues in a top market, earning a reputation for credibility without a journalism or broadcasting degree, and changing stations without ever asking for a new job.

``I had no desire to go on television. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was to be on television,'' Fishman, 68, said over lunch recently at the KTLA lot in Hollywood, where he has worked for most of his career.

In 1960, Fishman was a political science professor at California State University, Los Angeles, when the Democratic National Convention came to the city. KCOP was devoting part of its schedule to televised college courses.

``Someone got the daring and adventurous idea, 'Why don't we teach a course called American Political Parties and Politics?' '' he recalled. KCOP approached Cal State L.A.'s political science department, and Fishman was the only instructor who had broadcasting experience. (Another career accident; he blindly wandered into Cornell University's radio station and was persuaded to audition.)

He accepted the KCOP job and started teaching an evening lecture course that he began with an off-the-cuff recap of the day's news and included interviews of political figures. He was surprised to learn at the end of the term that he was a local TV star, albeit a minor one, and KCOP asked him to give daily newcast commentaries while he continued to teach. But his university bosses did not approve of that moonlighting job, and they forced him to choose between careers.

``I said to myself, 'You can reach more people in one broadcast than you can teach in a lifetime,' '' Fishman said.

Paul Moyer, another veteran anchor at KNBC, studied broadcasting at a specialty school in Hollywood after college and did small-market radio and television before hitting the big time here. He said Fishman's early experience is unique.

``I think it would be very different now,'' said the 58-year-old Moyer, who has been on the air in Los Angeles for 29 years and is probably the highest-paid anchor in town. ``The way show biz goes now, when the job opens up, the stations really know what they want in terms of gender, in terms of experience, and they go out and find it.''

Asked to recall his most difficult day on the job, Fishman considered the Northridge Earthquake and the Watts riots, then settled on the 1992 riots - not immediately after the Rodney King verdict, but a day or two later.

``I was on the air. It was getting late in the afternoon, and the helicopter was over the Hollywood Hills, and it was looking down on something - as I recall, a fire right near Hollywood Boulevard and Highland. And I said to the helicopter, 'Can you pan up? I want to get a view over the city.'

``And he panned up, and at the height of the riots there was smoke and fires all over town. It looked to me like a documentary I had seen of the Blitz in London in World War II. And I looked at that and I said, 'This is my city. This is Los Angeles.' And that is a mind-sticker that I'll never forget.''

Fishman attributes his newscast's success to the credibility and knowledge he and the reporters bring to each story.

``I don't believe people should be newscasters because they look good or they're well-coiffed or somebody looks sexy or something like that. You have to have credentials.''

Besides Fishman and Moyer, there are a number of other newscasters on the air in L.A. who have veteran credentials:

Jerry Dunphy, 79, who signs on each night at KCAL with, ``From the desert to the sea to all of Southern California, good evening,'' a phrase not likely to be copied by any baby-faced 30-something anchor. Nearly 40 years on air in Los Angeles, with some idle time in the mid-'90s.

Jess Marlow, 71, who was underused in his emeritus status at KNBC (he worked the elections last November in front of a computer, his back to the camera most of the night), and now co-anchors the well-respected but less-viewed ``Life & Times Tonight'' on KCET. Nearly 35 years in Los Angeles television.

Harold Greene, 55, who seemed to be heading for involuntary retirement last spring at the hands of KABC management, until KCBS nabbed him last month for its 5 and 11 p.m. slots. Almost 30 years in L.A. television, including writing and producing.

Unlike Fishman, they all worked their way up to Los Angeles from radio or TV jobs in smaller cities. Like Fishman, each has changed stations in L.A. after being fired or because a rival made an irresistible offer.

``I think it's the most competitive market,'' said Moyer, who got his first broadcasting job at a Sacramento radio station. ``A lot of people do not last in this market. It's an ethereal thing.''

Moyer agrees with Fishman that credibility is central to long-term success in the Los Angeles TV news business.

``It's very difficult for somebody to come from out of town and survive here,'' Moyer said. ``Establishing that trust bond with the audience is important, and the other ones will come and they will go.''

Fishman says his daily goal is to be able to deliver a solid hourlong newcast, even if the TelePrompTer breaks down and the script burns up. ``That, I think, is a responsibility that you have to the viewer. There are people I know who will come in at, let's say, 9:58:30 and pick up the script and read. They'll read!

``You have to be careful. There are some people who will read the page number - because it's there.''

Wald says Fishman has become known for departing from the script even when the TelePrompTer is working just fine.

``I've never seen any anchor in all the years I've been in the business deviate from the copy that much and still make sense. He could ad-lib better than the other people could write or he could rewrite,'' said Wald, who reluctantly and unsuccessfully competed against Fishman in the '90s as head of news at KCOP.

Wald said Fishman's newsroom nickname is ``Infallible Hallible.''

``Who better to anchor a news broadcast than someone with a political science background and a photographic memory?'' he said.

CAPTION(S):

6 photos

Photo:

(1) 'There are people I know who will come in at, let's say, 9:58:30 and pick up the script and read. They'll read! You have to be careful. There are some people who will read the page number - because it's there.'

- KTLA's Hal Fishman

on some of his colleagues at competing stations

(2) no caption (Hal Fishman)

(3) PAUL MOYER

(4) JERRY DUNPHY

(5) HAROLD GREENE

(6) JESS MARLOW