Headline Surfer Editor and Publisher Henry Frederick is shown here from his first grade photo at the Israel Putnam School in Putnam, Conn., circa 1968. Above, his favorite amusement in the newspaper was "Henry" the comic strip. Journalism has been a part of his life since early childhood.
DAYTONA BEACH -- When I was a little boy, I would race down the stairs of our second floor apartment and run to the store down the block before school for the morning paper: The Hartford Courant.
Then I'd race back home, run up the stairs and eat a bowl of cereal while scanning the front page stories.
Yes, at the ripe old age of 6, I had already mastered reading. My mom taught me how to read and write when I was 3. One of my favorite treats in the paper was comic strip "Henry," the kid who was always into something. That was my M.O., too. I was curious about everything and I wasn't afraid to ask.
I remember being at recess at the Israel Putnam School in Putnam, Conn., when a huge fire engulfed a downtown building. While the other boys and girls were playing marbles, I snuck away.
Yet again, I was fast on my feet. I asked a cop detouring how the fire started. "Beat it kid!" he said, his hands in motion, whistle in mouth. So I ran up to a firefighter and asked him, firing off a series of questions: "Was anybody hurt? How did the fire start? Is the building going to be torn down?"
I remember him crouching down, meeting me eye to eye: "You ask a lot of questions. Shouldn't you be in school?" I nodded and continued my prodding until I saw a store clerk and peppered him with questions.
He explained the fire started from an electrical shortage overnight and the building was going to have to be razed. I thanked him, waved to the fireman, gave the cop a dirty look and raced back to the playground.
And just in time! Everyone was lining up to go back inside. Several days later, I had what I thought was a cool show-and-tell as opposed to the boys showing off their Hot Wheels and Matchbox cars or the girls their Barbie dolls: I had the morning paper. And, of course, I gave a recap of the big fire, opening up to the jump page with the photos.
I can tell you I had the attention of my classmates, some of whom had picked on me at recess or made fun of my plain styrofoam thermos and the way my mom wrapped my sandwiches in the plastic bread loaf wrappers she saved up. But nobody was calling me any names or pushing me. I had the attention of the class and the teacher, too.
That is until I started talking about the Viet Cong and she ran had the teacher's aide take over while she ran out, returning pretty quickly with the principal. My first thought was I was going to get in trouble for leaving school.
The principal took me by the hand and escorted me to his office. He picked me up and placed me on his desk. Then he offered me a cup cake. The first thing out of his mouth: "Henry, how do you know so much about Vietnam?" I explained that my uncle Arthur was in DaNang and had been burned, but was OK when he came home.
I explained that not only did I read the newspaper, but watched the CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite. I told him I felt bad about Dr. Martin Luther King. Jr's assassination, but happy for Bobby Kennedy and his run for the presidency, explaining how sad it was that like, MLK, JFK had been assassinated.
I went into detail about Lee Harvey Oswald when he said that was more than he could handle before lunch. Perhaps he regretted giving me that cupcake with all that sugar because I was sure wound up at lunchtime. And my secret getaway from the playground was not revealed. To this day, I've never told anyone about it -- until now in this blog!
I met the principal again in 1986, two years after graduating from Central Connecticut State University. I showed him my "President's Citation" from the college president for academic achievement (double major poli sci/public admin), for serving two years as editor of the Central Recorder (the college newspaper), and working as a janitor (I had a full scholarship) but needed money to live on for the summers. I attended year round.
When I graduated in 1984, I wasn't ready to leave. I took a graduate course in Russian Studies (never attended the class; wrote a letter to the Hartford Court extolling the passion of a Ukrainian professor's desire for his homeland to be freed from the Soviets; the letter was published and I got an A).
I also started my own independent newspaper, "Campus Review," from scratch, soliciting ads in the community to support it. I put out two monthly issues when I got the call for my first journalism job at the weekly in my town and returned home.
Before long, I had moved up to a small daily and then the big time in New York (No, not the New York Times): The Journal News of Westchester, Rockland and Putnam counties, a big metro where I covered my favorite beat: cops and courts in Nyack.
Then in the mid-'90s, I took the same job at the Daytona Beach News-Journal, first in the DeLand bureau covering cops and courts. Two years later, I was working cops and courts in Daytona, which I did for nearly seven years until late 2004.
Nearly five years ago, after more than 20 years as a hard-nosed award-winning bulldog reporter and two years as a city editor at a small daily in Taunton, Mass. (flew home to Florida when I could), I fulfilled my dream of starting the first 24/7 Internet-only newspaper, NSBNews.net. Last year, I was able to get the registered trademark for the conversion to "Headline Surfer." It also was a triumph for Internet news legitimacy as I was Florida's top journalism award winner.
I'm literally a couple of weeks away from the fifth anniversary of the launch of this Internet newspaper, having worked hard to build readership with my brand of award-winning stories. And like the comic, Henry," and my latter college time, I continue to pound the pavement for stories and advertising revenue.
It's an uphill battle every day competing against Goliath, but I have what the 21st century news hungry public wants: New media! As long as my health holds up and I have the love and support of my talented wife, Serafina, I'll continue pushing hard to do what I love more than anything with the exception of my family and God.
What's not to love about being your own boss and covering breaking news, writing investigative stories in this tourism hub and covering the Daytona 500, Bike Week, the shark bites, etc.
At the ripe old age of 51, I still have more hair than Henry in the comic strip. And while he's faded from the funnies in a bygone era, I'm still running ragged and loving every opportunity that comes with it.