Madison Taylor

Only a moment or two after the untimely and ultimately stunning death of our reporter Mike Wilder in April — just a month after he was diagnosed with cancer — folks in our office were planning a memorial for the Relay for Life, which starts Friday at City Park in Burlington.

And I can’t thank them enough.

Suzanna Chriscoe on our advertising staff came up with the idea. Suzanna, a graphics artist, asked for contributions to purchase a torch in Mike’s memory that will be part of tonight’s relay, a nationwide benefit for cancer research.

Then Suzanna, with her advertising colleague Debbie Frazier, came up with a capital idea. They decided it would be wonderful to decorate the torch using a “tree of life” motif.

“What we want to do is take some sticks and spray paint them bronze to match the torch and hang colorful personalized leaves off the branches with different things Mike would have liked, quotes he would say and fond memories you have of him,” Suzanna wrote to all Times-News associates this week.

Suzanna printed a bunch of leaves on eye-catching paper. Folks were encouraged to go to the break room and make notes on the branches of Mike’s life. On mine I wrote something he used to tell me all the time when he thought a joke might rise to the level of semi-marginal.

“That’s sort of funny,” he would say.

The torch / tree will be displayed at the Relay for Life Friday (it starts at 6 p.m. and lasts until Saturday morning). We will also have a recording of Mike’s voice, discovered in some old video footage by our photographer Scott Muthersbaugh. It’s a recent find. We tried to track down something like that for Mike’s memorial service last month, without luck.

See you there.

Former state Rep. Dan Ingle stopped by. County Commissioner Tim Sutton had other business, but didn’t get around to it until saying something. Same for Elon Alderman John Peterson. Sheriff Terry Johnson sent a lovely flower to our newsroom from the Sheriff’s Office. Former Williams football coach Sam Story made a donation to Relay for Life after reading one of my columns.

Yes, people who knew Mike Wilder let us know on the day after he passed away with complications stemming from a short bout with a variety of cancers. In fact, even my dentist mentioned it just yesterday when I dropped in for my six-month cleaning. This was more than two weeks after his death on April 14, followed by his memorial service on April 21.

The response from the community to Mike’s plight — he was first taken to the hospital on March 3 and diagosed a short time later — was heartwarming for all of us here at the Times-News. From the hundreds of cards and letters to the donations and overwhelming response to a fund-raising bake sale here at our office, we were touched in a special way that we’ll ever forget.

We here at the newspaper thank you all very much. It doesn’t seem nearly enough to merely say or write it, but this is all I have.

I wanted to post a few letters and emails I received. I won’t identify the authors because some things contained are personal — but touching.

Madison,

Like you, I was shocked to read your news about Mike this morning. While I hurt for him and his family, I do the same for you and his other family at the Times-News. So often when people like Mike leave our world, our focus of sympathy tends to surround the immediate family. But Mike touched so many others who will also be hurting in the days to come.

I too will miss that ‘guh-faw’ of a signature laugh. It truly was one of a kind, wasn’t it?

I also wanted to compliment you on your article about Mike. Your words were not only well-chosen, but obviously sincere. It was a bad day to be you when the assignment is to write about the untimely and unexpected death of a friend and co-worker.

Well done my friend. Well done indeed.

My thoughts and prayers will continue to be with you and your associates in the days ahead.

 —-

 Madison,

I was just reading the paper this morning and saw your article on Mr. Wilder. I had been following along with the reports from the paper and I actually heard on Sunday at church about his passing. Words always fall so short when someone you love passes. So I’ll just say that I’m sorry for the loss for everyone at the Times-News. We prayed Sunday morning and I have it on my list for today and in the days to come that the Lord would bring peace and comfort for family and friends. Blessings Madison.

 —

Madison,

I’m sure you could tell from my comments that I “enjoyed” Mike’s Celebration. I remember people coming up to us at ours and sort of apologizing as they said, “I hate to say it, but I enjoyed the service.” I know how they felt now ….. even inspite of the grief and sadness!!

It’s always nice to have an actual face when you’ve only communicated thru email. Both you and your wife are the kind of people who I’d love to spend time with some time. I’m such a people person, it’s hard as I’ve met so many people who I enjoy, and I already do have lots of friends! I’m blessed!!

Sitting toward the back, I had a great view of the love and emotion felt toward Mike. It was a great service and you did make it special. I hadn’t thought of this type of thing being your gift too!! I’m getting tired, but I’m sure you get the idea.

—

Dear Madison,

I wanted to write a nice handwritten note to you and your staff complimenting everyone on a memorable service for Mike Wilder. Unfortunately, I could not find the appropriate stationary, and my handwriting leaves a lot to be desired. So please excuse the informality of this note and its electronic format.

First, please let me extend my sympathies to all of the staff and friends of the Times News on the untimely death of your reporter, Mike Wilder. While our professional paths did not cross often, each time they did Mike was the consummate professional, just like everyone said. There was never a need for our conversations to be lengthy, but those that we had were always cordial. I enjoyed talking to Mike and being able to help get him the information he needed to do his job.

Second, to all of the staff, current or former, that was willing to attend and honor their friend and co-worker with such a touching service, thank you. It’s never easy to put yourself in that emotionally charged arena, that’s for sure. But it was evident that Mike made an impact on the staff and the community, and that can be very comforting. I’m sure Mike’s family will always treasure that service. And from my perspective it was very gratifying to hear that there are still people in this world that have a positive impact on those that are around them. With all of the negative that goes on in the world, and that fact that the negative news and events seem to travel faster than the good news, isn’t it comforting to know that someone in your midst was having such a positive influence. My regret is that sometimes we don’t recognize the positive in people until they are gone, but in the case of Mike, I think it was clear how much everyone loved him and I’m certain he knew that.

Third, a special note of appreciation to You, Brent, Roselee, Debbie, Vicky, Paul and all of the staff that made the effort to stand in front of friends, co-workers , family and strangers to publicly express what Mike meant to them. It is one of the most emotionally charged formats in which to speak, and no amount of rehearsal or practice will prepare you. Trying to get your words out and keep your emotions down is at times impossible. But everyone did a great job. I was appreciative of their efforts and kind words. I know that when I left that service, I felt I knew Mike Wilder a little better, and I appreciated the impact he had on those that he served.

I’m sure that no one will ever fill the void left by Mike. I’m sure he will always be remembered by each person in their own special way, and at times his humor will make its presence known when you least expect it. Just like when he was with you, at his desk, on the prowl or in the community. And isn’t that the way it should be?

I was the host, of sorts, for today’s memorial service for our friend Mike Wilder, who passed away on April 14 after a short battle with cancer. Here is the outline of what I said. I pretty much followed it. It included a first section and a closing. The closing was altered t the last minute because I replaced the last part of it with some heartfelt workds from Mike’s mom.

———

Good to see you all – so many familiar faces, faces I love. I wish we were all together under happier circumstances. That goes without saying.

But in a way, this time is very special. We’re here to remember Mike Wilder, someone who made all of our lives a little more … interesting, entertaining, sometimes maddening and always enlightening.

When I think of Mike – and a lot of my Times-News friends would probably agree – it’s impossible not to remember the thing in our newsroom we call “the quotebook.” It contains memorable, weird, oddball, witty or otherwise outrageous things people in our office say on a given day.

Mike Wilder is the quotebook’s biggest star. And it’s not even close.

But of all the things he said in the nearly six years I knew him, the quote that keeps playing in my head is something that never made any of our quotebooks. Oddly enough, it often followed the most outrageous things that might come out of Mike’s mouth. It’s this:

“Ooops, did I say that out loud? Sorry.”

Yes, Mike might offer that as some form of damage control. He probably felt it was necessary after stating something like: “In the fantasy world I live in, the reporters meeting has been cancelled.”

“Ooops, did I say that out loud? Sorry.”

Or when someone in the newsroom asked why he muttered to himself, he once responded: “I’m talking to me. That way I know I’m talking to someone who’s worth talking to.”

“Ooops, did I say that out loud? Sorry.”

Or when at the height of some newsroom banter, usually instigated by Mike himself, he might say “The me I want to be lives in Nevada on a ranch, away from you people.” With an emphasis on the You.

“Ooops, did I say that out loud? Sorry.”

What I eventually learned, though, is that he wasn’t a bit sorry, not really. But he was enjoying himself immensely, and so were we.

I figured all this out shortly after I met Mike for the first time nearly six years ago.  I was hired to replace Lee Barnes as Times-News editor so I was the new guy coming in. Everybody was a little nervous.  Mike was too. He was cautious around me, kept very quiet, was always unfailingly polite, extremely so almost

Then I began to notice things. It seemed like he was never at his desk, for example. He made odd and random noises involuntarily — or at least it appeared involuntary. He detested talking on the telephone and could be pretty vocal about his agitation when it rang. But then he could abruptly shift gears and answer the call with a pleasant, “Hello, this is nobody but Mike Wilder.”

Humble, too, I noted.

Frankly, I wasn’t sure exactly what to make of him. He was giant puzzle, a crossword without clues, a Rubik’s cube with no solution.

“That’s just Wilder,” Brent Lancaster, his city editor and close friend told me.

Ah, that explained it.

I ultimately discovered Brent was correct. And that there was a method to it all. Mike was never at his desk, because he took time to wander around the Times-News and visit people in every department. He talked to nearly everyone in our building. He knew the names of their spouses, kids and grandkids. He knew their favorite sports teams, what church they attended and what TV shows they liked to watch.

He also knew every desk with a candy dish on it or who brought homemade goodies to work that day. Mike would graze, visit and leave each and every one with a smile.

What made Mike such a presence to people in our office was also his greatest asset as a reporter. In truth, Mike Wilder could’ve been almost anything he wanted to be. He was exceptionally intelligent guy with a talent for music, art and letters. He could’ve been a musician or an author. A teacher, pastor or  political strategist. His mother told me that at one time she thought he might become a fashion designer.

Yes, the secret is out, Mike Wilder liked to draw women’s clothes – ball gowns, his mom told me.

He could’ve been a lot of things, but he chose to be a newspaper reporter. And despite anything else that might come along, or the occasional notion that he might take on a different career, he continued to choose to be a newspaper reporter.

The biggest reason he was drawn to reporting? He was doggone nosy.

Mike liked to be in on things, know the latest news, the freshest stories. Then he liked to spread those stories. It came naturally for him. He was great at interacting with people and had a talent for asking questions without causing rancor or fear. In fact, nearly all found him endearing. He then presented the stories in a straight-forward way. No one could tell where Mike Wilder stood just from reading one of his stories.

Those are all rare gifts, believe it or not.

While people he wrote about seldom knew where Mike stood on things, his friends in the newsroom were keenly aware of Mike’s strong opinions about any number of subjects. It was like a force of nature he contained and only unleashed inside the newsroom.

Newsrooms are traditionally filled with opinionated people. And even by newsroom standards, Mike was perhaps the most opinionated of all.

Sometimes, of course, he would end a rant with the typical:

“Ooops, did I say that out loud? Sorry.”

And we all laughed.

In closing . . .

Few in our office weren’t touched in some way by Mike Wilder. What opened our eyes at the Times-News was the astonishing number of people in our community touched by Mike and his work.

I don’t think I can adequately express to any of you here today how much the support of this community for Mike has meant to all of us. From the time people found out how desparately sick he was, they stepped forward looking for ways to help. I want to publicly thank everyone for their contributions. We will never forget.

There’s a quote we included in the program for this memorial. It’s something I found four or five years ago and keep on my Facebook page as a humbling reminder. Stanley Walker, a city editor for the old New York Herald said it in 1932.

“When (a good newspaperman) dies, a lot of people are sorry, and some of them remember him for several days.”

I think Mike would’ve like that.

When Mike Wilder didn’t drop by the newsroom on Thursday afternoon and stopped answering his telephone we knew something was wrong.

But we had no idea how wrong.

While we were placing calls and sending texts in a worried frenzy, a war we all thought Mike would be engaged in for months, even a year or more, had already entered its final battle. The cancers that riddled his body perforated — a worst case scenario his niece would tell me Friday morning. He never really stood a chance.

By Sunday morning my friend and colleague of six years was gone. He was only 45 years old.

In talking with his family — mom, Eloise; brother, Brent;  sister, Susan; and niece, Shannon — who were by his side on Friday, Saturday and Sunday morning — I learned that Mike became seriously ill on Wednesday and things got progressively worse into the night when he was told to come back to Alamance Regional Medical Center. He was in severe pain and so weak he couldn’t walk on his own. Upon his arrival, and after a quick check, his oncologist described the situation as “grave.”

Thursday, when Mike planned to stop by the office to say hello — a new custom born when he started chemotherapy more than a month ago — he was undergoing emergency surgery. He was told without it, he would have only a short time to live, maybe 48 hours at best.

As it turned out, even with the surgery he didn’t have a whole lot longer.

Friday morning Shannon left me a message with the stunning news. At the Times-News we were devastated. We knew that Mike had a finite period of time. His cancer had advanced to the stage where it was never considered curable. But two weeks ago, on the day of a bake sale for Mike at the Times-News, the two of us discussed his future. He planned to come back to work — regain some normalcy in his life. I was for it and also told him that he needed to also plan for the things he still wanted to accomplish in his remaining time.

On Easter Sunday I saw him again. He seemed stronger than I had seen him in a couple of months. He was also his lovably grumpy self. I thought it was a good sign. Tuesday we spoke. He had texted our newsroom earlier in the day to let us know that the hamburger and hot dog fund-raiser occasionally held downtown was that day. He loved that hamburger for a buck deal. When I talked to him later he said he had more energy and attributed it to the steroids given as part of his treatment.

Then, less than 48 hours later . . .

Friday afternoon, Times-News family members joined Mike’s family at ARMC in a large room set aside of palliative care situations. Meeting the Wilder family has proved an amazing experience in and of itself. They’re great people. We swapped stories and hugged each other as Mike lay in the bed. He was awake only a couple of occasions but unable to speak. Doctors believe people in those situations can hear what’s being said. Right away I let him know that because he wasn’t around on Friday I had to do the Elon poll story. I know that if he could respond he would say, “that’s cute.”  Then I told him I would miss him and that he would be damned hard to replace.  I wished him well on his next journey and said goodbye.

RIP Mikey.

I’ll post information about memorial arrangements as they become better known. But expect something locally in Alamance County as well as a service in Virgina, where his mom lives.