CAREER

“Witnessing History:
The Life of a Foreign Correspondent”

A biography of Ronald E. Yates
By Karl Ho

Ronald E. Yates has seen dictatorships crumble, chatted with a Japanese emperor, listened to the woes of South East Asian refugees and hid in paddy fields from machine gun fire. And he has never regretted a moment of it.

"I just thought that being a foreign correspondent would be the greatest of all jobs," said Yates, who was an award-winning foreign and national correspondent with the Chicago Tribune for 27 years. "It turned out that I was right."

Yates' stint as a foreign correspondent sent him to Japan and other countries in Southeast Asia and Latin America, where he lived and worked. Yates was at Tiananmen Square when the tanks rolled in to quell student protesters, and he covered the fall of Ferdinand Marcos in the Philippines. He was there when revolutions erupted in Nicaragua, El Salvador and Guatemala. He was also one of the few American journalists to report on the fall of both Cambodia and Vietnam in April 1975 and was among the last to be evacuated from Saigon.

"It seems like every story I covered was in some way history making," Yates said. "Whether it was the Falklands/Malvinas war between Argentina and Great Britain or cocaine trafficking in Columbia, or Tiananmen Square in China. It was all history.

"I had a ringside seat for some major world events," he said.

"There were times when I actually felt that I was being paid to have witness history in the making — I felt guilty taking a paycheck sometimes, because the work was so satisfying, so much fun."

Yates gained recognition for the "fun" he was having. His work resulted in four Pulitzer Prize nominations and numerous awards, including the Peter Lisagor Award from the Society of Professional Journalists, the Inter-American Press Association Award and three Edward Scott Beck awards for foreign reporting. He also wrote books on the Japanese business ethic and on his stay as a reporter in Japan.



The Early Years

Yates knew early in his life that writing was something he loved to do.

"When (my classmates) had themes to write in elementary school, English classes or in high school, many would cringe and freeze up," he said. "I didn't. I relished the assignments."

In the 1960s, Yates spent three-and-a-half years in the Army as an intelligence analyst. At that point, he still considered himself more of a writer than a journalist.

"Living in Europe and going to all the places Hemingway went, I thought, 'That's what I want to do.' "

But working in the secretive world of military intelligence gave him a thirst to speak out.

"Journalism was like a natural reaction to the years of not being able to talk about what I did," he said. "I wanted to be in a position to tell people things."

Yates studied journalism at the University of Kansas, where he was editor of The University Daily Kansan. Under his leadership the paper won an All-American Pacemaker Award.

"It was a real hot time on campuses," he said. The paper investigated slumlord professors and covered the social and political upheaval of the times, including campus protests against the war in Vietnam and civil rights issues.

"It really made me realize I was heading toward the right business," he said. "It was a great training ground."

But not as great a training ground as The Chicago Tribune would be.

Yates turned down job offers from The Wall Street Journal and Gannett, choosing the Tribune because it offered the opportunity for an overseas posting. The experience of living abroad had given Yates a taste for the life of a foreign correspondent.

"I realized I was really fascinated with other people, other cultures and other systems of government," he said. "The other reason was probably just the romantic notion of being a foreign correspondent."

But Yates' romantic notions had to wait. He started out at the Tribune in Neighborhood News, a department that no longer exists at the paper.

"I started way at the bottom," he said. "Your job there was to turn out lots of copy." Yates was pounding out 20 to 25 stories each week.

From Neighborhood News, Yates went to the city room, where he covered all types of stories at all hours in all types of weather. He also worked on the rewrite desk and even served a tour with a consumer advocacy column called "Action Express."

"I paid a lot of dues," he said. "I spent four years paying dues."

But those dues-paying years were teaching Yates a lot. Working in a tough newspaper town like Chicago taught Yates how to survive and thrive in a competitive environment. In addition to the Tribune, there were three other dailies in Chicago in the early 1970s.

"It was the best journalism laboratory I could have had," he said.

Yates' reputation as a writer began to grow. He was one of three writers chosen to write in-depth front-page stories for a slot called "Column One." A three-part series on black capitalism that he reported caught the eye of the future foreign editor when it was picked up by Tass, the Soviet news agency, and in 1974 Yates received his first foreign posting — Japan.

"I had never been to Japan in my life. I didn't know the language, the culture, the people," Yates recalled. "But I didn't care. It was a foreign posting and I was going to take it."

Yates said he seemed to have a knack for being in the right place when news broke, including arriving in Vietnam shortly before the fall of Saigon.



'War is war': Danger on the frontlines

Yates' tour of duty as a foreign correspondent was often fraught with danger. While covering wars and revolutions in countries like Vietnam, he was threatened by gun-toting guerrillas at road blocks, came under mortar and artillery barrages and was pinned down in a dry paddy field for almost an hour by machine gun and mortar fire.

"War is war," Yates said. "There were probably 20 times when things got really dangerous ... when I thought, 'This is it.'"

Yates well remembers one of his closest brushes with death. It was 3 a.m., and the foreign correspondent was in his room at the Monoram hotel in Phnom Penh. There was artillery shelling and rocket fire outside.

"It was about 110 degrees in my room," Yates said. "There was no electricity, no air-conditioning. I was lying on the bed sweating in the middle of the night, watching geckos chasing mosquitoes on the ceiling."

In a semi-awake and semi-dazed state, Yates heard a light "pop" and recognized it as a sound of a rocket being fired. When he heard a "phwhew" after that — the sound of the rocket flying toward the hotel — he rolled into a small space between his bed and one of the walls.

"If you do (reporting in war zones) long enough," Yates said, "you pick up sounds and you know what these sounds mean. When you start hearing these things, that's when you start thinking about taking cover."

Moments after he fell onto the floor, the window and outside wall shattered. Yates got up and saw a piece of shrapnel stuck into the wall where his head would have been if he had remained on the bed. He has kept the six-inch-long fragment ever since. It sits on a shelf in his office.

"If I hadn't rolled off the bed," Yates said, "it would probably have taken off my head. I keep this piece of shrapnel to remind me of my own mortality and how lucky I was to walk away that night."



Helping others is the reward

Even though Yates won several awards covering war stories, they were not necessarily his favorite stories. The former foreign correspondent preferred the more personal stories he did about people overcoming adversity, like the ones on Cambodian and Vietnamese refugees.

"What was really satisfying," Yates said, "was when you would go to these refugee camps, or places where Vietnamese boat people were landing, and you talked to them on these islands. Nobody knew they were there. Often I would report them to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) so that they could get food, water and medical help."

Yates remembered doing a story on an orphanage in Phnom Penh run by three Canadian nurses. The children were malnourished and barely alive. The nurses were taking care of them without any funding or support.

"I wrote a story about it," Yates said, "and even though Phnom Penh was under attack by the Khmer Rouge, people who read the stories began asking the Tribune how to get money and medical help to these nurses. As a result, they received several thousand dollars and were able to keep these children alive. Many were later evacuated."

Another story Yates treasured was a story on Iva Toguri — a woman the world came to know as "Tokyo Rose." Toguri was a Japanese-American woman who was stuck in Japan during WWII and who did radio broadcasts heard by hundreds of thousands of GIs. Authorities accused Toguri of taking part in broadcasts meant to demoralize American troops and she was convicted of treason.

However, her conviction was based on perjured testimony. Yates tracked down the two men who had lied at her 1949 San Francisco trial. After several meetings, they confessed to Yates that they had lied. Yates wrote a series of stories in 1976 that resulted in a 1977 presidential pardon for Toguri, who actually was part of a plot with several allied POWs to undermine the Japanese propaganda effort.

"As a journalist, you realize you can have an impact on people’s lives," Yates said. "Writing about politics and economics in terms of numbers, speeches or events is not the best kind of foreign correspondence," he said. "Where you can do really well is telling people’s stories; telling stories of boat people in Southeast Asia, of Indonesian peasants, or how somebody survives in Mexico or Peru, to American readers who don't have any idea how these people live and what they have to do to survive. Such reporting helps readers understand that people are interconnected.

"It's a mission of education," Yates said. "You’re helping people to understand one another, to appreciate the differences in cultures and lifestyle, and, one hopes, to bring the world a little closer together."