With respect to Matt

The relationship between a writer and an editor is an intimate one, almost as intimate sometimes as between a man and a woman. But it’s a different sort of intimacy. We writers and editors argue and fight, yes, but to succeed, we must share the same goal, which is to produce something publishable that stands on its own and achieves its objectives. In my 55 years in this business, I’ve occupied both sides of this relationship, and never have I come across an editor with the professional and people-handling skills of Matthew Van Hattem, whose last day as senior editor of Trains Magazine is today, March 21.

At the most basic level, an editor corrects misspellings, poor grammar, and misplaced punctuation. But that’s the easy part of the job. What I expect of an editor, at the start, is to help me envision a story before a word of it is written. In effect, we stake out the boundaries of the article together, deciding what the story will include and not include. Once reported, I may run the first part of the piece past him or her for a reaction; am I starting this satisfactorily, bringing the reader into my web, establishing the right tone? Or did I wander into the weeds, becoming dull and pedantic? And finally, with the finished piece in hand, the best editors will employ a sixth sense to find the missing pieces of a story and the places where a reader will begin to lose interest and even start to fall asleep. They will challenge conclusions that aren’t well substantiated.

But I’m not finished. The editor’s job is then to choose the appropriate illustrations and to nudge the art director and story designer to package the piece in the given space in a way that draws the reader from the start to the finish like a puppy racing for a dog biscuit. Toward that end, with the help of the writer, the editor imagines charts or maps, sidebar stories, and other graphical elements. The editor fact-checks the piece and consults the writer when discrepancies are found.

And here’s the hard part: Throughout all this, the very best editors try not to substitute their own way of writing the story — their own style — for that of the writer. If an editor can do all these things, this editor will have profoundly affected the piece of writing while leaving the writer’s self-respect intact.

All this is a lot of ask of a mortal. But Matt Van Hattem is such an editor. Best I’ve ever encountered. At the top of his game. A pleasure to work with. And at the end of the day, a true friend. When it counted, he never failed to challenge me to be better.

When I first met Matt in person six or seven years ago, I was startled. This isn’t the wise man who turns my dross into gold, I said to myself. This is a kid, for goodness sake. Look at that floppy head of hair, that carefree grin. He looks like a kid, to this day, though in fact Matt is in his 40s.

And here’s how much I came to enjoy working with Matt: I began inviting him to come with me to report my stories. The first instance was the “Conrail Lives!” article, published in November 2012. Far better than I, New Jersey-raised Matt understands the modern Conrail’s network of switching lines in that state and neighboring Pennsylvania. When Conrail’s president, Ron Batory, suggested hooking together two locomotives belonging to owner railroads CSX and Norfolk Southern and taking the two of us on a day-long tour of the New Jersey routes, Matt acted as if he were in heaven. Then back in Waukesha, he was in a good position to catch my mistakes and botched conclusions.

Immediately afterward, Matt joined me on BNSF Railway near Chicago, for the story that appeared in the following issue, titled “24 Hours at Willow Springs.” This was an incredibly difficult story to report and then piece together, explaining a day in the life of this unique terminal that is home to the highest-priority trains of that railroad. We started our 24-hour clock at 5 p.m. About midnight I crashed for four hours at a nearby hotel, leaving Matt to keep track of things. He later produced a memo that combined funny and pithy quotes with an unbelievable attention to detail, a minute-by-minute log of what transpired while Chicago (and Fred) slept. Throughout, he took on for himself (I sure didn’t have the time) the added job of photographer, highlighting yet another of his amazing assortment of skills. By the way, Matt never slept those 24 hours. Yet having gone through the reporting experience with me, Matt was prepared to bring the story to the finish line. What fun it was.

These are my memories that I want to share with the rest of you. There are many others, but you get the picture. I’ve worked with other good editors at Trains, and more will follow. But today is your day, Matt. Here’s to you, kid.