There's a New Man in Town

One of many reasons Tennessean reporters and editors are going to like their new editor, Everett J. Mitchell II—"E.J.," as everyone calls him—is that he's cool. His sensibilities are a blend of bourgie and working class, filet mignon and barbecue, jazz and rap, cashmere and jeans. He's the kind of guy who gets his hair cut on Jefferson Street but also feels comfortable in the snootier confines of Belle Meade. He can talk to anybody, and he refuses to be pigeonholed.

"I like to hang out with my staff, and I'll be taking them places they'll never expect their editor would take them," he says over a glass of wine at Level 88. Yes, like his predecessor, Frank Sutherland, who pens a wine column for the paper, Mitchell loves wine. But he's quick to add, "I'm not a connoisseur."

The 42-year-old barrel of a guy comes to Nashville from a managing editor job at The Detroit News. But unlike many editors at major metropolitan dailies, he seems more prone to shooting the breeze with his staff, congratulating reporters on worthy stories and calling them on their B.S., than he is to staying stuck in meetings and getting bogged down with fruitless managerial paper-pushing. A self-described "Army brat" who was born in Germany and lived in Oklahoma and Kentucky growing up, Mitchell likes keeping government officials honest and doesn't mind uttering the kind of gentle (and sometimes not-so-gentle) profanities journalists are known for (bless him!).

At the same time, he clearly knows how to impress his corporate masters, playing the management game so he can do the gritty work with which a newsroom is charged. He has steadily moved up the journalistic ranks, working as a reporter for The Courier-Journal in Louisville, Ky., and The Evening Sun in Baltimore, before taking on managing editor jobs at The Cincinnati Enquirer and The Detroit News, an executive editor job at Salem, Ore.'s Statesman Journal—and, now, the top editorial post at Nashville's morning daily.

Now, he says, he's ready to settle into Nashville and has no plans in mind to move on any time soon. In the meantime, he's getting to know the people who work for him. During his first week on the job (he started in December 2004), he asked the entire editorial staff to send him bios of themselves so that he could get to know them on their own terms, letting them define themselves rather than have their bosses do it.

"I'm interested in what they're about," he says. "I'm interested in what we do day in and day out."

Tennessean columnist Gail Kerr, who's grown up at the newspaper covering everything from former mayors and city councils to the state legislature, says Mitchell spent his initial days working with the A-1 folks (the people who edit and design the front page) and setting the newspaper's new tone. After just a week, readers who were paying attention noticed meatier, longer-form stories dominating the front page.

"I will tell you, the big thing he has brought is just so much energy," Kerr says. "He's very energetic, he's in the newsroom, he's staying late into the evenings, he's very hands-on. He's a pretty cool cat. We're excited."

This, it seems, is just what this Gannett newspaper needs. Known as one of the best newspapers in the country during its investigative heydey—the 1960s and 1970s—The Tennessean in more recent years has become more bland, less aggressive and—to the chagrin of both the business and edit sides—less well read. Circulation has fallen and, with it, staff morale.

Mitchell promises to refocus the paper's effort on public service and watchdog journalism, to take no prisoners and to be nobody's friend. At Gov. Phil Bredesen's annual holiday party for members of the media in December, E.J., having just arrived into town, stayed after most others had left to talk with and get to know the governor and his senior staff. At one point during the conversation, Bredesen made the comment that E.J. was someone he was going to like.

"But I told him," Mitchell explains laughing, " 'You like me now; we'll wait and see about later.' "

Mitchell says he has plans to beef up the newspaper's investigative efforts, just like he did at his management stints elsewhere. "We want to make sure we are the eyes and ears of the public here," he was quoted as saying when The Tennessean announced his appointment. "We need to be the watchdog of government, the watchdog of business."

Meantime, all eyes are on E.J., watching to see just what the watchdog is gonna do. And, of course, the Scene is here to be a thorn in his side when appropriate—and to buy him a glass a wine every now and then too.