Gregory Freeman: Retired Columnist Revels In Recalling An 'Interesting Life'. P-D 2/28/1999

Headline: RETIRED COLUMNIST REVELS IN RECALLING AN `INTERESTING LIFE'
Reporter: By Gregory Freeman

Publication: ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
Last Printed: Sun., Feb. 28, 1999
Section: NEWS ANALYSIS, Page: B6, Edition: FIVE STAR LIFT

Melba Sweets turns 90
Melba Sweets never thought she'd live to be 90.
"I just never thought I'd live so long, " said Sweets, a petite woman whose snow-white hair frames her soft facial features. Few would guess that this woman with the virtually wrinkle-free face is nearly a century old.

Hers has been a full life. As the widow of the former publisher of the St. Louis American, as a columnist for some 50 years and as a mother, she is filled with stories.
Like the one where she met famed poet Langston Hughes. The two became friendly, and he wrote a 17-page poem especially for her and her husband, Nathaniel A. Sweets. Hughes, who was then writing columns for black newspapers nationally, was so impressed with Melba Sweets that he often sent his columns to her for editing before forwarding them on to the papers.

Or the one where she defied her husband and attended a speech and interviewed singer and activist Paul Robeson.
Nathaniel Sweets was wary of Robeson. In the late 1940s, when dissent was scarcely tolerated in the United States, Robeson openly questioned why blacks should fight in the army of a government that tolerated racism. Because of his outspokenness, he was accused by the House Un-American Activities Committee of being a communist. Nathaniel was worried that his wife would be harassed by FBI agents who would surely be there, taking names.
He argued with her, insisting that she not go.

But Melba Sweets wasn't one to be ordered around. "In the end, I said he's an important person, and I'm going to go, " she said. "I never regretted it."
After the speech, she attended a party in Robeson's honor, spirited him away into a room and spent hours interviewing him. "He was a fascinating man, " she said. "We talked so long, he was so interesting and compelling, that we didn't watch the time. When we finished, two-thirds of the partygoers were gone."

Or her visit to Cuba on the invitation of Fidel Castro, along with several other members of the National Newspaper Publishers Association, the organization that represents the publishers of black newspapers. The State Department declined to give its blessing to the visit, but Sweets went anyway, finding herself impressed with what Castro had done for that country's poor.

Sweets grew up in The Ville neighborhood of St. Louis, the granddaughter of slaves. Her mother was a schoolteacher. Her father, originally a custodian, put himself through college with correspondence courses and became the first black chemist at Union Electric.

Sweets eventually became a teacher in the St. Louis public school system, teaching third grade at the old Cottage Avenue School.
One of her pupils - Chuck Berry - would go on to fame and fortune, but as a student, he was "one of the worst kids I ever knew, " Sweets chuckled. "He was so bad that he was going to take me on one day by walking out of the room. No kid had ever tried me before. I told him, in the sternest voice I could muster, `YOU WILL BE SORRY IF YOU WALK OUT OF THIS ROOM.' It worked, and he turned around and went back to his seat."
Many years later, she was at an event where Berry was performing, and she was introduced to him afterward. "I didn't think he'd remember me, " she said. "But he began ticking off the names of all the teachers he'd had in school, and he remembered me. I was impressed."

When Sweets and her husband married in 1935, she had to give up teaching, because teachers in those days weren't allowed to marry.
   She immediately threw herself into her husband's work. She wrote news stories and feature stories. And she wrote a social column with friend Thelma Dickerson. The column, "We're Tellin', by Mel and Thel, " was filled with births, deaths, weddings and other events, and was one of the paper's longest running features, spanning 50 years.
   Within short order, the Sweets had three children, and in no time the paper became a real family affair, with all three children pitching in, writing, taking pictures and - along with executive editor Bennie G. Rodgers - making sure the paper came out each week.
   The journalism bug bit: Two of the three youngsters remained in journalism. Ellen Sweets is a reporter for the Dallas Morning News. Fred Sweets is the assistant bureau chief for photography for The Associated Press in Washington. Nathaniel A. "Buzzy" Sweets Jr., the American's chief photographer for many years, is now a juvenile officer with the St. Louis County Juvenile Detention Center.

The American nurtured many journalists over the years, including Kenneth J. Cooper, Southeast Asia bureau chief for The Washington Post; Ann Scales, a White House correspondent for The Boston Globe; Stan Austin, online managing editor for the Kansas City Star; Jabari Asim, a senior editor at the Washington Post; Norm Parish, housing and city government reporter for the Post-Dispatch; and yours truly.
It was with her young charges that Sweets was ruthless, and the schoolteacher in her would come out. Every Friday, after the paper was on the streets, she'd meet with the staff and use her red pen to point out any grammatical and spelling errors and typos. She would settle for nothing short of perfection.

Dr. Donald Suggs bought the paper and became publisher in the 1980s, but Sweets continued to write her column for several years afterward, until she retired in the mid-'80s.

Today, the woman who never thought she'd live to see 90 is the oldest black journalist in St. Louis. She'll celebrate her birthday Sunday with her three children, eight grandchildren, three great-grandchildren and friends.
"I don't think I've done anything that special, " she insisted, with typical modesty. "But mine has been an interesting life."

Daniel Schesch - Webweaver

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