Before veteran journalist Otis Sanford delved into the stories of his life’s work at a recent book signing — the kind of newsroom stories that make journalists laugh, nod and remember why they got into the business — Sanford first wanted the audience to stand, not all at once, but in groups.
Cousins, former classmates, colleagues and the people who once worked with him in Memphis newsrooms took turns standing up as he called out their group affiliations.
“All former Commercial Appeal and Press-Scimitar people, would you please stand and let everybody see you?” Sanford asked. Dozens rose to their feet.
At that moment, the June 16 launch event for Sanford’s new memoir, “Newsman: The Road from Route 2 Box 9,” at Benjamin L. Hooks Central Library became a reunion of family and friends celebrating the release of a heartfelt epistle to journalism, to Memphis and to the Black reporters who helped shape how the city understood itself.
Sanford’s friend, Joe Birch, the longtime Action News 5 anchor, hosted the event, which drew some 300 people. Birch recalled meeting Sanford decades earlier inside the federal building in downtown Memphis. Before 9/11, reporters could still linger in the hallways of government offices and watch who passed by or catch a tip, Birch said. Sanford covered the federal beat for The Commercial Appeal. Birch often chased the same stories. Birch met Sanford, who wore “a really cool black leather jacket,” in a stairwell, where Sanford was working on a story for his beat.
“He dominated that beat like I’ve never seen a reporter dominate a beat,” Birch said. “He really was giving me a lesson in journalism before he ever became a professor.”
Sanford’s book, Birch said, is “a love letter” to Freddie and Bertha Sanford, the author’s parents, and to his six siblings. Sanford is the youngest of seven.
A promise to his mother
Sanford wrote the book, he said, because he made a promise to his mother, who lived to be 101 years old. His father earlier died of cancer.
“I promised my mother … that our family story was just so incredible that I was going to write it one day,” Sanford said.
He began interviewing her, collecting details and memories from her life. After she died, Sanford said he knew he had to keep his promise. He also knew he had to broaden the focus of the project.
“It can’t just be about the family life,” Sanford said. “It has to be about the impact that my family had on my career, on my life, growing up and wanting, since I was like 7 or 8 years old, to be a journalist.”
The title of the book is a nod to Sanford’s rural roots, chronicling his journey during the Civil Rights era from the postal delivery address of his childhood home in Como, Miss., to a 50-year journalism career in major newsrooms and classrooms.
Sanford, professor emeritus in journalism and former Hardin Chair of Excellence in Journalism at the University of Memphis, built a career that included The Clarion-Ledger in Jackson, Miss., The Commercial Appeal, the Pittsburgh Press and the Detroit Free Press. Still, his recollections returned to his upbringing, the family that raised him, the South that shaped him and the city where he always wanted to work as a journalist.
Before Sanford landed a job at any newspaper, however, he received his first journalism assignment from his father when he was still a child.
“My father gave me the standing order: Read the newspaper,” Sanford said. “And he would always ask me when he came home from work, ‘What’s in the news?’ And I was prepared to tell him what was in the news.”
Sanford’s daily perusal of The Commercial Appeal, delivered to the family mailbox every morning, instilled in him an abiding love for the city of Memphis, long before he became part of its journalism community.
Memphis was the place he enjoyed visiting as a child to spend time with relatives in Orange Mound, a historically Black neighborhood recognized as the first community in the U.S. built by Black homeowners, or to walk the streets downtown. Memphis represented possibility.
“I just loved the big city,” Sanford said.
By the time he realized he could write, Sanford had a dream. He wanted to become a newspaper reporter. And he wanted to work in Memphis at The Commercial Appeal, the newspaper he had read every day as a child.
“This is the place I always wanted to be,” Sanford said. “I don’t care what anybody, anywhere else, says about this city. I love Memphis.”
Sanford’s childhood proximity to some of the Civil Rights Movement’s defining moments helped him understand the importance of documenting history as it unfolded.
He recalled a time when his older brother, Lewis, testing the central ideas of the newly signed Civil Rights Act of 1964, entered a drugstore in Como, Miss., bought a soft drink and sat in a booth where Black customers were previously prohibited from sitting. People gathered outside and peered through the windows. Some were angry. But Sanford’s parents supported his brother.
“That left an unbelievable impression on me,” Sanford said.
Two years later, civil rights activist James Meredith announced his 210-mile March Against Fear from Memphis to Jackson, Miss. On the second day of his solitary protest, Meredith was hit with pellets from a white man’s shotgun. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and other civil rights leaders continued the march, attracting thousands of participants, while Meredith recuperated in a Memphis hospital.
Part of the planned route for the march was less than a mile from his family’s farm, Sanford said. He desperately wanted to walk to the corner and witness the civil demonstration. But his mother would not let him go. She told him and his sister Ellen that she had work for them to do in the field. Years later, Sanford’s mother told him the real reason.
“She said, ‘I just didn’t want you to go, because I was afraid for your life,’” Sanford recalled.
The Three Amigos
Sanford devotes special attention in his book to the bond shared between himself, Karanja A. Ajanaku and Jerome Wright, “the Three Amigos,” as he called them. In 1977, the three men were the only Black reporters at The Commercial Appeal, where they were assigned to the city’s high-profile downtown beats. Sanford covered federal court. Wright covered the police beat. Ajanaku, then known as Leroy Williams, covered City Hall.
Ajanaku and Wright also are deeply connected to the history of the Tri-State Defender. In the mid-2000s, Ajanaku joined TSD, where he served as executive editor until his retirement in 2024. During his tenure, Ajanaku recruited his friend, Wright, who became TSD’s deputy editor.
“We developed a bond that you just cannot imagine,” Sanford said.
The three men often met for lunch, though eating was rarely the real purpose. Sometimes, they went to Peoples, a local tavern, to shoot pool and discuss the stories they were writing, Sanford said.
“Ours was a friendship based on our love of journalism, our pride in racial heritage and our desire to just own our beats,” Sanford said. “Unfortunately, both of them have passed away, but they will always be my amigos.”
Wright died in 2024. He is remembered for his knowledge of Memphis neighborhoods, newsroom discipline, humor and devotion to the craft of journalism. Ajanaku, who succumbed to cancer in 2025, brought a distinctive mix of cultural consciousness, sharp reporting and strong commitment to Black community life.
Journalism will survive
The evening’s host and the author also examined the current state of journalism.
The Commercial Appeal building at 495 Union Ave., home to the daily newsroom until 2019, is no longer the bustling center of Memphis newspaper life. Demolition of the structure began this week. Sanford said he had driven by the building the day before and felt the loss.
“It kind of pains me sometimes to see where a printed newspaper has gone,” Sanford said.
The newspaper industry failed to see the digital future coming quickly enough, he said. The companies that had the money, audiences and public trust, he said, should have built the platforms that now dominate attention.
But Sanford made a distinction between the fate of printed newspapers and the future of journalism.
“Journalism is going to survive,” Sanford said.
The field of journalism will continue to attract professionals eager to do the ethical and important work of telling people what they need to know and want to know, he said.
Sanford, who taught journalism ethics at the University of Memphis, said good journalism requires getting the story right, allowing contrarian voices to be heard and resisting the carelessness that often defines social media.
“We always talked about ethics and how important it was,” Sanford said, “because it separates what we do and what we have done at the newspaper from what you might see on social media.”
As the conversation drew to a close, Sanford was asked what advice he would give young people in Memphis. His answer was simple.
“Know stuff.”
Know the names of local and national elected officials, Sanford said. Know basic facts about the world around you. Ask questions. Find a mentor.
He then reiterated his first words of advice.
“Just … know stuff,” he said.
