(continued from page 1) did. He knew that the print reporters didn't like him any more than he liked them, which was why he insisted that the nosier ones among them often had to settle for quotes from one of his aides. Press relations had taken another turn for the worse when he had agreed to be on a panel with his Democratic opponent at the annual convention of the Montana Newspaper Association, and then backed out to play golf somewhere down south. That didn't go down well with the editors, publishers and reporters of the state's weekly newspapers, including those papers in Western Montana that recently had been bought by Lee, thereby condemning their employees to involuntary servitude on the Lee Enterprises expanded Montana plantation.     But it got worse. Somehow he had been surprised at the political firestorm he created when he had come out on the wrong side of two issues of considerable concern to constituents who had voted for him. He had done that quietly lots of times since entering the Senate and nobody back home seemed to mind much. He had always been a lackey of W.R. Grace, the corrupt-to-the-core corporation that eventually and inevitably plunged into bankruptcy, and he had approved a bunch of full-page ads the asbestos industry took out in the Montana daily newspapers to get Grace off the hook.     Those slick ads—but not slick enough, because the bozos in the advertising agencies back east regard Montanans as bumpkins who will fall for any slick ad campaign—urged the asbestosis victims up Libby way to support legislation that would allow Grace to escape the punishment it deserves.     In fact, the proposed legislation limited the ability of Libby workers and other victims of asbestos exposure to get just compensation for the atrocities that Grace had inflicted on them. Conrad had thought that was just fine, and he unashamedly had served as a cosponsor of the legislation written by industry lobbyists. The good people of Libby were not suckered by the deceptive advertising and they were far from amused by the transparent device. Even Conrad perceived that the natives were more than restless; they were furious that he had openly worked against justice for their legitimate concerns. Letters to the editors made exactly that point. It dawned on Senator Burns that he had made an awful mistake by serving as a handmaiden for Grace, whose interests clearly appeared to have higher priority than the health and welfare of Montanans in Lincoln County.     So there he was, in a big political mess he had gotten himself into in Libby, where almost 200 residents already had died and perhaps one out of every five residents was sick or dying of asbestosis, all the result of criminal activities of W.R. Grace.     As if things weren't bad enough, the pharmaceutical companies which had been generous contributors to his coffers also had taken out full-page ads in the Montana corporate dailies to take below-the-belt shots at his Democratic challenger and to warn the inhabitants of our third-world state, in their finest East Coast accents, to mind our manners if we knew what was good for us. The hucksters didn't have a clue to how strongly Montanans were united behind the beleaguered folks up there in the northwest corner of our state.     So that didn't turn out so hot, either.     Conrad's Democratic opponent made political hay over that one, running buses loaded with angry, thrifty seniors up to Canada to get their prescriptions filled for a lot less money than the drug cartel was squeezing out of sick and poor Montanans.     Thus did dark clouds hover as Burns headed into the final weeks of the 2000 election campaign. The latest polls were scary, even after he had lavished huge amounts of money on a seemingly endless day-and-night series of scurrilous, deceptive and unfair radio ads against his opponent, especially in Eastern Montana. A lot of churches were handing out flyers to their congregations urging his re-election. But still, he feared maybe even that wouldn't turn the trick.     And then, to top it all off, the Billings Gazette had gone crazy. Bruce Whittenberg Comes to the Gazette     The junior senator from Montana by way of Missouri was outraged by what was happening at the Gazette, the linchpin that had kept a wheel from coming off his jerry-built campaign wagon in previous races. The lousy rag was running news stories about some of his lies and deceptions—even putting it on the damn front page!— and that editorial writer Gary Svee was actually writing stuff on the editorial page that criticized him. One news story after another. One editorial after another. But then came the worst news of all:     The Billings Gazette was going to endorse Democratic candidate Brian Schweitzer.     What in hell was going on?     If there was one certainty in the political career of Conrad Burns, like the rise and setting of the sun, it was the support and protection of the Billings Gazette, largest of the four Montana daily newspapers controlled by Lee Enterprises of Davenport, Iowa.     Through thick and thin for twelve glorious years, while some of the other newspapers in Montana were occasionally printing negative news stories and even running editorials or guest columns that were critical of him, none of that kind of crap would find its way into the pages of the Gazette. On those occasions when Conrad had flapped his loose lips, thereby exposing his bare backside, the Gazette could be counted on to cover it up. The paper exploited its comparatively large circulation in Eastern Montana to protect Conrad's political jewels in an area notable for right-wing views ranging from mildly conservative all the way to extreme anti-government philosophies.     One of the sordid mantras chanted down through the years by corporate hacks since Lee Newspapers of Montana came into being in 1959 is that the suits in Davenport exercise no control over the news and editorial content of their papers. No one ever called from headquarters to influence news or editorial content, they would say with that saccharine corporate smile—and that might well have been true. But that's not the point.     The point is that the bosses in Davenport don't have to make that kind of phone call. They dismiss news and editorials as "content" for the "product" they deliver to their "customers." It's all just a business to them, like K-mart or the Taco Bell down the street. That's one of the reasons why their understaffed and underpaid "content providers"—including some first-rate journalists who love Montana and don't want to leave for more money and live somewhere else—are condemned to work on newspapers that vary from mediocre to shameful.     The point, so sharp it cannot be missed, is that Lee's top executives try to make certain that those who are hired as publishers are nicely paid, are "team players" who won't rock the boat, and are firmly committed to the proposition that the interests of Lee executives and Lee stockholders have higher priority than their suffering subscribers and their overcharged advertisers.     Furthermore, those who become Lee publishers most frequently grow up within the confines of the corporation and memorize the Lee corporate catechism, especially the succinct First Law of a Lee Publisher: "Make Plan." You make "Plan" and you'll be a publisher for another year. "Plan" means draining more money to Davenport this year than was drained from the local community last year.     As a result, several knowledgeable veteran journalists in our state agree that out of all the Lee publishers who have come and gone in Montana over more than four decades, only three—if we do not hold against them policies forced on them by corporate headquarters—have demonstrated a measurable amount of journalistic courage, integrity, ethical standards and responsible professionalism.     They are George Remington, John Talbot and Bruce Whittenberg.     Remington quit in 1985 as Billings Gazette publisher, announcing that he refused to "stripmine" the paper to satisfy the gluttons in Iowa. Talbot, son-in-law of the first man in charge of Lee Newspapers of Montana and a rare gem in a corporation riddled with a history of nepotism, presided over the glory years of the editorial pages of Sam Reynolds and a newsroom staff of extraordinary talent at the Missoulian. Whittenberg, although he had an uneven career as publisher of the Helena Independent Record, blossomed after he was promoted to publisher of the Billings Gazette in January, 1998.     And that's when Conrad Burns began having trouble. End of an Era in Billings     One of Whittenberg's first acts at the Gazette, to the enormous gratification of almost everyone in the newsroom, was to dismantle and throw away the pieces of the "Product Center."     The "Product Center" was a cockamamie concept of longtime publisher of the Gazette and sometime honcho of all of Lee's Montana dailies, Wayne Schile. His "astigmatic vision," as one critic put it, was to reinvent the traditional letterpress composing room. "Designers" tossed news and advertising into a confusing mix that resulted in an unending mess as Schile relentlessly pursued his obsession. Whittenberg took one look at it and, of course, did what any sane person who knew anything about newspaper production would do.     It was the start of a happier time for those released from Schile's choke-hold on the news and editorial columns of the paper. The Gazette had earned a widespread reputation, especially among journalists, for spiking or otherwise refusing to publish news stories that did not fit Schile's warped view of the world. Reporters who had dreaded going to work now flourished under the new regime. News coverage immediately improved.     Especially notable was a different attitude toward Native American news. When, a year before Whittenberg's arrival, a reporter complained about the lack of coverage of Indian reservations within the paper's circulation area, the managing editor, a Schile protege, replied in a memo that "we can't afford to cover the reservations on a regular basis; the readership or more to the point, subscribership just isn't there."     Whittenberg also took the chains off the editor of the editorial page, freeing him to write about subjects that had been off limits. The paper's political endorsements—which had been tightly controlled by Schile and reflected his preferences for candidates at the local, state and national levels—were opened to serious discussion and decision by the editorial board. Under Schile, in more than one election, the Gazette conducted interviews with political candidates that turned out to be diaphanous window- dressing. Schile presented his personal list to the editorial page editor for the paper's endorsements, and that was that. Whittenberg quickly sensed the need to mend relations with the civic, cultural and business groups who long ago had been repelled by the arrogant bullying and boosterism that had been the hallmark of the Gazette under Schile. The new publisher soon was perceived in the Billings community as a far more personable representative of Lee's interests.     His ascent to the job had followed the puzzling departure of Schile, shrouded in both mystery and rumors, after thirteen raucous years on the job. Only four years earlier, the Davenport executives had capped their many expressions of devotion to their Montana darling at a "corporate feedback dinner" when Lee Enterprises President and CEO Dick Gottlieb crowned Schile "King of Montana." That moment of corporate hilarity was captured in a front-page photo of TSR 12 (Summer 1995), which noted in the cutline that "the newly crowned emperor is widely regarded in Montana as seriously undressed."     Treasure State Review also had no hesitation in citing Schile as "the most pernicious influence on Montana journalism in the last half of the 20th century."     At the time of Schile's sudden departure, Lee's quarterly reports to stockholders meticulously announced changes in executive positions on their newspapers, but Schile's disappearance never was acknowledged. That spurred additional speculations that could not be confirmed. At any rate, it was something Davenport didn't want to talk about. The 'King of Montana' to the Rescue     In late September or early October, 2000, a little more than two-and-a-half years after Whittenberg had come to the Gazette, the editorial board voted to endorse the Democratic candidate for the U.S. Senate, Brian Schweitzer, a Whitefish farmer who also ran a farm in Eastern Montana.     In the light of the Gazette's fervent support of Burns through all of his Senate votes that repaid corporations for their contributions, his gaffes and buffoonery, readers could not have missed the startling new tone of anti-Burns editorials. One especially angry editorial ran less than a month before the election.     "TV ad backing Burns is full of lies" was the headline.     "A recent TV ad maligns Brian Schweitzer," readers were informed. "It is built of lies, challenging Schweitzer's integrity. . . . More than anything the ad is rank and high smelling." It then cited examples of "more lies," the "mendacity" of Burns, and unfounded accusations that Schweitzer was campaigning in a fashion that is "not the Montana Way."     That charge, coming from a particularly noxious Burns aide, typified the sleazy campaign Burns had set in motion to win re-election. The editorial concluded: "And speaking of the Montana way, since when did it become the Montana way to lie? Is it really the Montana way to have out-of-state politicians decide how Montanans will vote?"     Could a newspaper possibly endorse Senator Burns after that?     Wayne Schile leaped into action. He had created Conrad Burns, a radio broadcaster transformed into a county commissioner and then a candidate for the United States Senate. Schile was Dr. Frankenstein, Conrad was the creature. The "King of Montana" set out to show once again that the corporate crown was merited. He had created other Republican candidates who had won election from Eastern Montana and he had worked hard to destroy the political careers of others who had sought to serve the general welfare rather than corporate interests.     Almost three years after his sudden exit from the Gazette, Schile again was being seen with cronies in Billings, powering lunches and working his magic. He was widely believed to be in contact with close friends in Davenport, especially Greg Veon, Lee's vice president for publishing.     One week after the "Lies" editorial, on Tuesday, October 10, the paper announced that Whittenberg was voluntarily leaving as publisher.     "After nearly three years at the helm of the Billings Gazette," the story began, "publisher Bruce Whittenberg announced Monday that he is leaving his position.     "Whittenberg said that after a quarter century in the newspaper business, including becoming publisher on January 1, 1998, he decided to explore other opportunities.     "'As much as I have enjoyed the newspaper business, particularly in Helena and Billings, I've been at it for 25 years. It's time to flex my creative muscle a bit and do something else,' he said."     Later in the story, Schile's buddy, Veon, was quoted as saying he "started out with Whittenberg in the newspaper business and respects his decision." He then weighed in with the customary corporate spin. 'When you've got the skills he has, you ought to go for it,' Veon said.'I think Bruce has done an excellent job of energizing and reinventing the newspaper. I think the key event will be the redesign of the newspaper and Web site.'"     In other words, Bruce Whittenberg had been fired. (This corporate spin drew private hoots of derision from Lee staffers in Montana. Sadly, reporters who have learned the nitty-gritty of journalism and know that "sacred cows make the best hamburgers," also learn that the most sacred cow of the press is the press itself.)    The Gazette ran a full-page public service ad to pay tribute to Whittenberg. It featured a proclamation by the mayor declaring Bruce Whittenberg Day and testimonials from civic leaders. This exhibition of fealty to a departed publisher, especially one who was regarded by Lee Enterprises as dead meat, so enraged Schile that he reportedly made three angry phone calls to the paper that had routinely bid him farewell three years earlier.     Seven days after Whittenberg's "resignation," Veon announced the appointment of Michael Gulledge, publisher of the Lee chain's Herald & Review in Decatur, Illinois, as the new Gazette publisher, "effective immediately."    Gulledge, between trips back to Decatur and forth to Billings, was seen having lunch with the man who had demonstrated once again that he may well be the "King of Montana." At one session (which only one source could confirm) Schile introduced young publisher Gulledge to a greatly relieved Senator Burns.    Ironically, Whittenberg had hired Gulledge for his first job with Lee Enterprises, and Gulledge had never worked on a newspaper outside the Lee chain. Although Gulledge early on showed unhappiness at being suddenly uprooted in the middle of a school year, like a good corporate paladin he obediently moved his family to Billings.     On the Sunday before the election, on the Gazette opinion page, in what surely ranks as one of the most unwilling, unhappy, backhanded, apologetic endorsements in the history of American politics, Gary Svee's editorial was headlined "We need Burns back in the Senate."It wasn't enough to save his job. Shortly thereafter, this good man of Montana also was fired. Montana's Future at Stake     We have no way of proving that the failure of the Billings Gazette to endorse Brian Schweitzer resulted in the re-election of Conrad Burns. But we know that Burns and Schile believed it was extremely important that the Gazette endorse Conrad Burns.     And what we know for certain is that the bullet that brought down Bruce Whittenberg came from a gun that smokes in Davenport, Iowa.     That gun has been fired—secretly, shamelessly and deliberately—many times since the Lee corporation removed Anaconda's copper collar from the throats of the citizens of the Treasure State more than forty years ago, only to replace it with handcuffs and shackles manufactured in Iowa. On many occasions it was easy to smell the smoke, but the gun was well hidden and could not be found.     For one notorious example, the Lee Montana chain papers were in the vanguard of forces that stifled and helped bring about the collapse of a powerful citizens movement in the 1970s. That was after an inspired majority in the Montana Legislature, on a mission to protect our environment, passed laws that the out-of-state corporations and the Lee newspapers soon thereafter joined to erode. That Legislature also made possible the extraordinary gathering of men and women in 1972 to forge the most progressive state constitution in the United States.Those admirable legislators overwhelmed the political power of Montana Power and the giant industries that come here to clearcut our forests and bulldoze our public lands, polluting our rivers, streams and lakes, infecting our valleys with disease- and death-producing contaminents from their chimneys and stacks, all with the blessings of an out-of-state corporation practicing profit-driven journalism.     Montana prospered in those heady years of the '70s until Lee struck back. Our universities and public schools were treated with the respect they deserve until subsequent legislatures, dominated by corporation stooges, steadily reduced the taxes of out-of-state corporations and dished out niggardly appropriations for the education of our young.     The defeat of Brian Schweitzer—a man who showed promise of restoring some dimension of prestige to the state that sent to our nation's capital the likes of Jeannette Rankin, Burton K. Wheeler, Thomas Walsh, Mike Mansfield, Lee Metcalf and Pat Williams—was more than a loss for the people of Montana. It was a loss of historic proportions.     The re-election of Conrad Burns gave the Republicans the one-vote majority they needed to control the United States Senate. A Schweitzer victory would have made irrelevant the later switch of Vermont Senator James F. Jeffords from Republican to Independent, thereby restoring a Democratic majority in the Senate. The 2000 Senate election in Montana changed the course of history, giving the Bush administration a free hand until the defection of Senator Jeffords served the purpose that a Senator Schweitzer would have fulfilled.     Back in a winter of discontent, 1991, I embarked on a lonely crusade to break the grip of out-of-state corporations on our press, our economy and our political structure. After the first issue of the Treasure State Review, I no longer was lonely.When I spoke the truth about our press in Montana's state capital at the 25th anniversary celebration of our 1972 Constitution, the longest standing ovation of that gathering of our best citizens will remain one of the most gratifying moments of my life.     In twenty not-quite-quarterly issues, TSR has documented the miserable performance of the Montana chain newspapers. They fill their pages with some excellent reporting that unfortunately is accompanied by journalistic drivel and corporate twaddle. What is not covered because of company policies and a refusal to staff their newsrooms adequately is a continuing disgrace. The exposure by a Seattle newspaper of the asbestosis calamity that befell Libby also exposed the monumental failure of the Missoulian to cover news in its circulation area. The Lee chain editorial pages, without exception, avoid many central issues in our cities, state and nation.     They are a cancer on Montana.     One of the several goals of the Treasure State Review was to encourage an independent weekly press in cities where corporate monopolies rule. We now have three such publications and a fourth is nearing reality. The Missoula Independent, Billings Outpost and Butte Weekly frequently provide news and comment superior to that supplied by the chain dailies. They have served a useful and appreciated purpose. An astonishing number of Montana journalists—and, significantly, former Montanans who dream of the day they could come home and resume their careers in journalism—rallied to the cause. Many other Montanans cheered us on, from Supreme Court justices to present and former political leaders, from noted authors and journalists to men and women who simply love Montana.     The time has never been better, in our current stage of technology, to establish a different and distinctive statewide weekly newspaper, written by Montanans, edited by Montanans, supported by Montanans, and dedicated to Montanans. It would be nothing like the "bottom-line" corporate sheets that rely on their local monopolies to sustain their shabby "products." It would stand proud against the corporations that have raped Montana. It might well grow into a statewide daily newspaper.     I believe that kind of newspaper—and the Treasure State—would prosper. The Lighter Side of Montana News  Our Lady of the Mansion Again Speaks Her Mind     A reliable source vows this is a true story. A woman friend of the source approached Judy Martz after a Helena dinner and told her that the governor reminded her of Margaret Thatcher.    "Well," Martz replied, "I'll take that as a compliment until I have a chance to look up who Margaret Thatcher is."  Favorite Correction of the New Millennium —Thus Far      Billings Gazette, March 30, 2001: A story headlined "A doctor's life" in Tuesday's Health section erroneously said Billings physician Dr. Neal Sorensen "is married with two daughters he affectionately refers to as 'parrots.'"     Actually, Sorensen is married with two parrots, Ruby and Precious, he affectionately refers to as daughters.