Rusty Saber columnist McAdoo signs off

Springfield Business Journal and our community lost a dear friend this weekend. Longtime columnist Joe McAdoo died in his sleep around noon Saturday, said his wife, Sidney. He was 75.

According to the obituary published in today’s Springfield News-Leader, Joe is survived by Sidney and children Joseph M. and Jill, and their spouses, as well as his sister, Susan Miller, and three grandchildren.

Visitation is scheduled 6–8 p.m. tomorrow at Kings Way United Methodist Church, 2401 S. Lone Pine Ave., and funeral services will be held there at 3 p.m. Wednesday. Klingner-Cope Family Funeral Home is handling arrangements.

Memorials may be made to the Joe P. McAdoo Endowed Scholarship Fund at Drury University, the Kings Way United Methodist Church Youth Fund or to St. John’s Hospice.

SBJ published the following tribute column in its Sept. 8 issue. Joe never got to read the tribute column, Sidney said.

Dear Rusty Readers,

Joe McAdoo told me recently that his saber has gotten very rusty indeed. He wanted to write to you himself to give you one more pause to think, smile or laugh out loud, before retiring the column forever. But words have finally failed him, and he must save breath for whispers of love to his family and closest friends. Health complications are causing Joe to retire his Rusty Saber column.

Over the years since January 1983, when Joe convinced me of his true desire to become “the Andy Rooney of the Ozarks,” conveying weekly his humorous and often cranky observations on the human condition, he faithfully turned in 1,714 columns, exclusively for Springfield Business Journal. When he and Sidney made their January pilgrimages to Hawaii, he filed columns in advance. I remain eternally grateful to Joe, not only for his unwavering friendship and support, but also for giving me thousands of inches of copy to help fill the pages of those early issues. We could depend on Joe, too, to give us a laugh on Friday afternoons when he visited with a joke and a wisecrack to drop off the column, and then again when I entered it into our old phototypesetting system.

I howled with laughter over his tales of a local radio station’s “typewriter toss” promotional stunt! We grieved with Joe and his family when we read about the death of their dear little dog.

Joe has many friends among SBJ staff members, both present and past. You’ll enjoy their favorite “Firehouse Quickies” here. His friends at KSMU will miss him, too!

Dear Dr. Joe, I never told you often enough how much care and respect we all have for you. Love always from your publisher, Dianne E.

Maria Hoover, features editor

I first met Joe McAdoo, aka Rusty Saber, shortly after beginning my stint as a newsroom intern in January 1999. I mentioned to Joe that I enjoyed reading his columns, and the next time he came in, he brought me a signed copy of his book, “McAdooabout Nothing.” He took the time to talk with me about my studies and career plans throughout my internship, and I appreciated his interest in me, a lowly college student. Through the years, I’ve been able to keep up with Joe, stopping for a chat when he brought his columns to the office. After my daughter, Kaitlyn, was born on his birthday in 2003, he often made a point to ask about the latest antics of his birthday buddy. I’ve always found Joe to be genuine and sincere. My favorite Rusty column is the one he wrote about the increasing width of airplane seats to accommodate passengers’ larger backsides. It made me laugh the first time I read it and can still draw a chuckle today. 

Chris Whitley, public affairs specialist for U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and former SBJ editor

I had only been editor of SBJ for a few short weeks – I think I was still mastering the spelling of “SBJ” – when I learned an important lesson about Joe’s popularity. As we planned our page layouts for the next week’s issue, it became obvious that not all of our news and standard features were going to fit. Thinking that our readers deserved more current news and fewer features, I chose to hold the Rusty Saber for a future issue, rather than run it on schedule but in an abbreviated form.

Big mistake. The issue came out, without Joe, and the phone started ringing. And it rang. And rang. And it rang some more. Several of the things Joe’s loyal readers told me could not be reprinted here. Apparently it was, if not the first, at least one of the few times when SBJ had ever been printed without a Rusty Saber. Joe himself was kind and gracious and understanding of my bad call, which should come as no surprise to anyone who knows him. For me, though, it was a painful early lesson in the McAdoo’s and McAdon’ts of being SBJ’s editor. 

Jennifer Jackson, chief operations officer

It is difficult to admit to in print, and I hope you don’t think less of me for doing so, but I have not always been a cover-to-cover reader of the Springfield Business Journal. I was just 13 when my mother went to press with the first issue of what was then Tops Executive Journal. I saw her literally pour her blood, sweat and tears into every column inch. I felt it was important that I at least feigned interest in the finished product. In those days, Rusty Saber was the only thing I could really sink my teeth into. It’s what compelled me to open the paper week after week. I thought, “Here is a guy who thinks like a teenager.” Joe McAdoo always had a way of cutting through the sap and saying it like it is. Quickly, Rusty Saber became a “must read” for me, and often I was actually clipping the column for later reference.

At the age of 14, I got involved with high school speech and debate. I found inspiration and quotables for many oratories over those next four years. While my cohorts were delivering speeches on the power of positive thinking and pleading with their audiences to stop and smell the roses, I was giving “get real” speeches to suggest that maybe everyone just needed to wake up and smell the coffee! Thank you, Joe, for all the rich material that you delivered over the last 26 years through your regular column and through your book. We have both changed through the years. I would guess that you think less like a teenager than you once did. I know I am much more interested and involved with the hard-hitting news delivered weekly in SBJ. Rusty Saber, however, will always be remembered fondly by me.

Clarissa French, freelance writer/editor and former SBJ editor

My favorite Joe McAdoo column has to be his reminiscence about hunting crawdads with his dog, Corky, the summer before he started seventh grade. But whenever I think of Joe’s columns, I always think of him writing about his unabashed love of great music, especially jazz, and his delight in the great American sport of baseball. Or at least baseball stadium hot dogs with the works! I remember him writing about the film “A Man for All Seasons,” and recognizing a kindred spirit in our shared love of its stirring oratory on the rule of law.

I’ve laughed with Joe at the extremes of political correctness and bizarre news stories from around the world. I’ve cried at his memories of a beloved pet’s death. In his years of writing, Gentleman Joe McAdoo has never penned a single word that was hurtful, untrue or unkind. Sir Thomas More was not alone in being “a man for all seasons.”

Eric Olson, editor

I talked to Joe last week. His voice was shaky at best, and this was about all he could muster:

“It’s been 26 years of really great fun,” he said, catching his breath between words.

Then, in McAdoo’s typical sincere and humble way, he gave me a boost of confidence about how SBJ reads and looks these days.

After saying goodbye, his words “really great fun” rang in my ear.

That’s what life is about, Joe. And from what I know of Joe and his column character, Rusty Saber, he’s lived it to the fullest. Take rest, my friend, in the complete life you’ve lived.

Joe McAdoo, former chairman of Drury University’s communication department, has contributed to SBJ since 1983. [[In-content Ad]]