Yesterday I told my father I saw the 'Chicago 7' movie. He said he'd like to see it, but he doesn't have Netflix. He then told me that in 1969, when he was a reporter at the @freep, his editor called him one Saturday morning asked him to fly to Chicago.

The FBI had just raided the apartment of Black Panther Fred Hampton and more or less executed him while he and his pregnant wife slept. (Hampton's in the 'Chicago 7' movie.) My father caught the first flight to Chicago, went to Hampton's apt and talked to friends and neighbors.

He then flew back to Detroit and went to the @freep newsroom where he hammered out a story *for the Sunday paper* about Fred Hampton, his killing at the hands of the FBI, and the reax of people who knew him.

Incredible, and I had no idea. I have a lot of respect for the old man, and even more now. It also makes me a little embarrassed about every time I told my editor I needed another day to write a dumb story about a movie star. Journalism matters. That's the tweet.