The Time Capsule: Paying tribute to a great Iowa journalist
George Mills, at the age of 97, died 10 years ago this month.
Well before that, having just turned 70, he decided to come out of retirement and try something new—television news. Phil Thomas, then anchor and news director of WHO-TV in Des Moines, said Mills was good—exceptionally good. But when a man his age, with 50 years of experience in magazines and newspapers, is asked to work alongside just-out-of-college youngsters who learned everything they needed to know in the classroom, there are bound to be issues.
“He’d get disgusted,” Thomas told me. “They’d be hanging around the newsroom complaining about a slow day and he’d say the only thing slow was a reporter too lazy to go out and dig.”
I was reminded of Mills a few days ago when notified an article of mine had been selected for the Mills-Noun Award.
The award is obscure but George Mills, for whom it is named, is another matter. It’s hard to imagine any native Iowan of a mature age who hasn’t read him.
He was a newspaper legend and a life-long researcher into Iowa history. Born in Chicago in 1906, he lived through two world wars and the Great Depression.
I became aware of his columns during my years as a paper boy—I didn’t read him then, but my dad and other subscribers did. He was best known for his political commentary, covering the statehouse for the Des Moines Register from 1943 until 1971. For 10 years he was the Iowa correspondent for Time, Life and Fortune magazines.
Thomas remembers a time when Mills was to tape a 60-second TV spot. He went on for more than five minutes. When his tape was cut, he handed in a letter of resignation.
“I don’t know how many times he resigned,” Thomas remembers with a laugh, “but it was a lot. I’d tear the letter up and he’d go back to work.”
Mills loved to scoop the Register. There was no animosity, Thomas said. He was just competitive. To be 80 and break major stories before anyone else, including the whiz kids he worked with, gave him great satisfaction.
Mills researched and wrote books in his spare time. He was acquainted with a number of U.S. Presidents. Starting with Bourke Hickenlooper, he closely followed the activities of Iowa governors. He writes about some of them in “Looking in Windows, Surprising Stories of Old Des Moines,” which was published in 1991.
Along with accounts of nefarious political deals and payoffs, “Windows” is full of inside stories on bootleggers and slot machines and gangsters; the Klan, union bosses, and of a time when illegal booze flowed and the city licensed houses of prostitution.
I’ve read his books, but never met Mills. The closest I came was while he was working on “Windows.” Word was out the book was coming, and apparently this caused certain politicians some concern. There came a day when I was in the state capitol cafeteria with a veteran lobbyist. Mills walked through, a pencil-thin man with unruly hair that needed a trim. I’ve no idea where he was going, but he seemed to be in a hurry.
When Mills had passed by the lobbyist chuckled. “Imagine an 85-year-old who scares the ----- out of politicians who have something to hide,” he said. “That’s George Mills.”
Roy Marshall is a local historian and columnist for the Red Oak Express. He can be contacted at news@redoakexpress.com.