My New York Press Award

For starters, let me say that I have never won an award from the New York Press Association. And I’ve been writing columns for 67 years. Sometimes four a week. That’s 19,000 columns.

The reason I didn’t win is because I never entered. Until now. When somebody else entered me.

In 1960, when I founded Dan’s Papers and began writing my columns, I learned that there was a New York Press Association. Practically every newspaper in the state was a member. So I called them up, eager to join. But after I told them about my new newspaper they said I was not eligible. It was a free newspaper. They said that there was no such thing as a free newspaper. If it’s free it’s a brochure. We only let paid circulation newspapers into the New York Press Association.

I said that Dan’s Papers was the first free newspaper in America. That claim was at the top of each issue’s front page. They told me to come back when I got a paid circulation.

So, disgusted, I never did.

In 1986 however, I learned that a new press association in New York State had been formed and free newspapers — which were now numerous — were eligible. So I decided to try that. Not the New York Press Association. But the Press Club of Long Island.

The following year, 1996, I had my staff enter one of my columns — they were giving out awards for best humor column — and it won second prize. But after I read what had won first prize I said I’ll never do that again. First prize wasn’t funny at all. I figured somebody had a brother they owed a favor to. So that was that with the Press Club of Long Island.

Here’s a few sentences from the column I wrote that finished second in that Press Club of Long Island competition in 1996. It’s called “If Osama bin Laden had a dog.” Osama bin Laden was at that time living in a cave in Afghanistan. He was a very nasty man. And he hated America. With a dog, I opined, he wouldn’t hate anybody.

“Osama would throw a rock, the dog would fetch it, and Osama would laugh and rub the dog’s belly.”

After that, I never entered any more competitions. I’m semi-retired now. Just write my columns. And Dan’s was sold to Schneps Media in 2020. Schneps is a member of the New York Press Association, which now accepts free newspapers. And now, somebody at the paper, without telling me, entered me for this year.

I remember another time I thought I should try to win an award. It was the George Polk Awards, administered by Long Island University. In 1996, that same year, I went to a dinner where they gave out Polk Awards. Polks honored journalists who had risked their lives during wartime to bring stories from the front to their respective newspapers. Some journalists had been wounded in doing so. Some had died and were spoken of and got awards posthumously. Why I went was because Christiane Amanpour, whom I had met, was getting one that year.

What I realized in 1996 was that I had once been eligible for a Polk Award. But it had been in 1970 and it was long past when I could enter that.

That year, 1970, Dan’s Papers was prospering. And myself and my wife, my first wife, were off to an indigenous Mayan village down by a lake in Guatemala for the winter. We’d be there for four months. The paper was only monthly in the winter. I could handle that from anywhere.

When we arrived at the Guatemala airport — we’d brought our sheepdog with us — we were told by the agents that the airport was surrounded by rebels and there was only one road leading out that was safe. We’d landed in a war zone. In a cab from the airport to Guatemala City, we learned the country was under a 9 p.m. curfew so we got a room in a pension next to the Spanish Embassy as quick as we could. At midnight, though, there was a huge explosion that woke us with a start.

What was that? Ten seconds later, there was a rattling noise on the cobbled roof. Sounded like shrapnel raining down. It was. Everyone, in their pajamas and nightgowns, hurried to the pension’s living room trying to find out what happened. But nobody knew.

In the morning, we learned that rebels driving by had thrown a bomb at the portico of the Spanish Embassy next door. The host at the pension told us to get down to our destination (the lake). No war there.

At 11 a.m., we went to a supermarket for supplies to bring with us. Guarding the front door of the market was a 12-year-old boy in a windbreaker holding a submachine gun. We hailed a taxi. And three hours later, we were at the lake. There we remained rebel free for our four months, during which time I sent in my war experience story about Guatemala for publication in Dan’s Papers. Now it was years later. 1996. Too late for a Polk Award.

Then, about 2010 I was told I would be getting an award at the Folio Awards dinner in Glen Cove. This is an annual award that the Bethpage-based Fair Media Council gives out to broadcast journalists. Thirty Folio awards were given out that year. Then, I was called up and given a special award for lifetime achievement. But it was not specifically a Folio award.

I also, one year, was given the PoNY award, which stood for Pride of New York. But this too was for lifetime achievement, not for my column.

That’s about it. Best columnist in the state of New York. That’s me. The very best. After I get whoever won first prize out of Dodge.