A Hole in the Paper

By TAD BARTIMUS

Ann Landers changed my life; I bet she changed yours, too.

In the 46 years she authored her advice column, Ann Landers/Eppie Lederer influenced millions of grieving, lovelorn and confused fellow travelers. When she died, Lederer took her column with her, bringing to a dignified end a chapter in journalism unique to a woman who was both a refined lady and a great old broad.

Nobody can replace Lederer, though thousands will try. She was the grande dame of her genre -- even her sister Esther Phillips imitated her with her Dear Abby column. But no one can duplicate her unerring common sense. Lederer instinctively knew when to deliver a tongue-lashing and when to stroke a fevered brow.

Along with bread and salt, she was a staple at our house. My mother used Ann Landers to justify parenting decisions when my father was out of town and couldn't back her up. An enduring memory is of mom standing in our '60's pink-tiled kitchen, brandishing a newspaper clipping and shouting, "You can't stay out past midnight because Ann Landers says so!" Our refrigerator was never without a half-dozen of the advice columnist's witticism yellowing under magnets.

I never wrote to Ann Landers because I didn't have to -- everybody else wrote for me. I read her through my confused adolescence and sexual awakening, the heartbreak of my lost first love, my broken engagement to a man who later drank himself to death, the daily challenges of marriage, the death of my parents, friendships turned sour, lost jobs, poor health, financial turmoil.

She was also there for the joys, but it was her wisdom and steadying hand in hard times that was Lederer's true value. We turned to her when we needed to climb mountains as well as molehills, and she always had an answer to see us through. How many lives did she save with a few words of hope and a phone number?

I can't count the times I've said, "Wake up and smell the coffee!" I still use "40 lashes with a wet noodle" in conversation. Other gems slip out daily in ordinary conversation, there's no telling how much of her earthy advice comes out of my mouth. After reading her several times a week for most of my life, her words are imprinted on my brain along with multiplication tables and basic grammar.

I credit Ann Landers with three of my most important coping skills:

If you ask the person you live with to help you fix a leaky faucet and he doesn't, ask again. If he still doesn't comply, call a plumber, pay the bill and shut up about it.

If something bugs me, I need to ask myself why. Did I cause this problem? If so, I need to solve it. If somebody else is responsible, then they own the problem and I need to let it go.

A partnership is never 50-50. Sometimes it's 30-70, other times its 70-30. Every day is different. Every day is a gift. Adapt.

We have to adapt to the loss of Ann Landers, but it won't be easy. Her passing leaves a hole in our newspapers no sob sister wannabe can fill. There's no shortage of clever witticisms, tongue-in-cheek trivia and arched hyperbole in our Daily Planets, but Lederer's bedrock values came straight from the school of hard knocks. Newspapers don't hire from there anymore.

There was only one Ann Landers. Her uncommon common sense will come out of our mouths as long as those of us who read her fall in love, get married, raise kids, feud with neighbors, grow old and live our lives by the wisdom she left us.

© 2002 The Women Syndicate

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© 2002 The Women Syndicate. The content on these pages is the property of The Women Syndicate and may not be used without express written permission. Contact friends@tadbartimus.com