Shortly after I was hired as a reporter here in early 1991, it was relayed to me that Bob Watson threw papers in the air in celebration. With a new hire, he no longer would be doing the job of two reporters.
Only it never worked out that way. Throughout my nearly 30-year career here, Bob has done the job of two reporters, sometimes more.
He thrived on reporting the news, and now it is our sad duty to report on his passing. After a two-week illness, Bob died early Sunday morning.
Bob was a fixture at the News Tribune, the Capitol and our community. A workaholic, quirky fixture with a heart of gold.
He has been the unofficial mentor to many of our reporters over the years, including me. It's amazing how prolific he was as a writer, especially considering how much he helped his fellow reporters. If he were alive today, he would be reading the editorial in this space to fix my errors.
His generosity didn't stop with sharing his knowledge. He never seemed to spend much money on himself, but he gave freely to others. Here in our newsroom he stocked Cheetos, which he bought in bulk, for anyone who wanted them.
He despised the term "fake news" because his life was dedicated to reporting the news as even-handed as humanly possible.
Generations of editors had scolded him for his excessive use of direct quotes in favor of paraphrasing information. However, Bob wanted to reflect the views of sources in their own words - not his - and his trusty tape recorder ensured that he did.
He was passionate about the state's Sunshine Law, which dictates what records and meetings are open to the public. Nicknamed "The Bulldog" in the newsroom, he did his best to make sure public bodies complied.
He didn't shy from asking the tough questions, either. Occasionally his questions would come with a Watsonesque flair, like when he asked former Gov. Bob Holden during a news conference whether he was a trailblazer like his supporters claimed or an idiot like his critics suggested.
Bob was an editor's dream and nightmare all rolled into one. He would gladly volunteer to cover any event any time, often filling in for other reporters. He was like an Energizer Bunny for news, with his long days occasionally punctuated by naps at his desk. Limiting his workweek to 40 hours was like trying to constrain the Missouri River to its boundaries.
His eccentricities are stories of legend. The stacks of papers on his desk were a constant fire trap and pending avalanche, but - like finding a needle in a haystack - he somehow could find the specific document that he needed at any given time. Once in the late 1980s, he arrived just as former Gov. John Ashcroft was starting a news conference. Bob plopped his tape recorder onto the governor's desk, unhooking the stretchable fabric covering the desk in the process. The desk cover recoiled from the corners, instantly pulling all of the Capitol Press Corps' microphones and tape recorders into a jungle-like trap.
Bob looked at other news organizations more as colleagues than competitors, often holding their microphones - along with his own tape recorder - at news conferences.
Bob was old-school all the way. He believed newspapers were just that: news on paper. Despite trends toward shorter stories, Bob believed the print journalism's niche was that it had the capacity to tell the whole story.
Despite being a former KRCG-TV 13 reporter, he wasn't big on newspaper reporters taking video. And when government services were moved online (such as the state's Official Manual) he would be flustered, quickly pointing out that "not everyone has the internet!"
A couple months ago, when Bob won our company's most prestigious award, the W.E. Hussman Employee of the Year, the $500 prize was an afterthought. To him, it was the recognition for his work that meant so much.
The recognition of Bob's contributions extended well beyond the newspaper office walls. In 2019, the Missouri Bar honored him with an Excellence in Journalism award for the lifetime of work he had done to educate the community regarding legal matters.
Bob was passionate, eccentric, witty, and, most importantly, a man of faith who was kind-hearted and generous to everyone he came across.
We're grieving over Bob's death. But we will take a breather and continue to do what he would have done: Work tirelessly to report the news without fear or favor.