Remembering my boss, Florrie Schwartzberg

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Florrie Schwartzberg was my first boss in the newspaper business. I know it’s slightly irregular in an obituary not to sing praises exclusively, but Florrie always had a keen distaste for pap, and I don’t want to pander, even posthumously.

She was a terror in the office. I was afraid of her from the first day I went to work at the South Shore Record until I left 11 years later. Her demands, however, were trumped by her brilliance and a wicked sense of humor that she used to slice and dice, on a daily basis. On more than one occasion, I saw her rip up a reporter’s story (we used paper in those days) and tell her she had “no right to use the language of Shakespeare.”

Coming of age in the ’50s, a talented and ambitious woman in a man’s world, Florrie started in advertising and then moved on to the weekly newspaper business. She once told me that failure was not an option: She knew she could and would build a solid business. The South Shore Record was her baby, and it was a reflection of her outstanding intellect and perfectionism.

I was in my 30s in the mid-’80s, when I started working there. Trained as an English teacher, carrying a few clippings from Newsday and The New York Times, I applied for a job and Florrie took me on. Quickly I saw that she was all in when it came to work, and she expected the same of me. But I had little kids at home, the pay was modest and staying until 8 p.m. on the day we went to press was impossible, so I quit.

I gathered my nerve and told her I was leaving because I needed to be home by 4:30 every day. She said OK, “but at least work for two more weeks until I can get you replaced.” I said OK, but I would leave at 4:30. So that’s how it went for two weeks. On my last day, I went into her office to say goodbye and she said, “It seems to be working out with you leaving at 4:30.” I agreed, and I stayed for 11 more years.

Over that decade, Florrie made me the best writer I could be. She edited my copy rigorously, and taught me to respect the fine points of grammar and usage. When she praised a piece of writing, it made my day. When I asked to write my own column, she agreed, and so I began the column under my name that I’ve been writing for 32 years.

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