Thursday, February 01, 2007

No more Molly

Molly Ivins is dead. It makes me sad. She was an inspiration to me. Tough and funny and Southern and iconoclastic. And when I lived in Texas for a summer at the tender age of 21, her coverage of Governor Ann Richards and the antics of "the leg" helped nurture in me an interest in local politics, which sadly, still remains.

I'm not the only one who's sad:


NewsComa


She made me want to be better, and have a hard edge with a smile on my face, ignoring adversity. She asked the hard questions, and took a beating sometimes. She never pretended that she wasn’t human, and she made me want to write editorials for a newspaper. She created an environment where she trusted that newspapers had an objective voice, against the odds of ownership and political pressure, regardless of shrill critics.

Katie Allison Granju


tonight I just want to say that Molly Ivins made me want to write better. She made me laugh my ass off many times. And unlike most of the rest of the American press circa 2007, she never, ever, ever stopped asking the hard questions, or digging deeper.

George W Bush

Molly Ivins was a Texas original. She was loved by her readers and by her many friends, particularly in Central Texas. I respected her convictions, her passionate belief in the power of words, and her ability to turn a phrase.


Did Molly make me want to be better? Nah. But that doesn't mean she didn't inspire me. To be even more irreverent in the face of local politics. An approach that now pays my mortgage.

Read more tributes to Molly at The Texas Observer

2 comments:

JJ Inc. said...

You in the West End? I just got back from working near Brighton for a year. Loved The Crown, near Covent Garden.

I go back over this weekend for a two week jaunt, nuthing but bitters, pale asses and shite weather. I miss it a lot.

Dan said...

I used to see her at the Magnolia Cafe, where you can get of the least objectionable plates of enchiladas at 4 o'clock in the morning in Austin. She would come in at all hours, almost always alone, and sit at the counter. I never saw anyone walk up to her; I think because the hipsters didn't know who she was (morons!) and the rest of us were too much in awe of her. I have not doubt she woulda been tickled to entertain us for a moment but I never wanted to intrude on her privacy. Besides being a magnificent mind inside a body that eventually betrayed her, she was a good and decent human being. That's a combination that I personally have found in small measure around Austin. Heck, anywhere in the world