Remembering Jack Wilkinson, an extraordinary friend, mentor and sports writer

Those of you who’ve read the AJC over the decades may remember his coverage of the Braves and Georgia Tech in particular and his overall gift as a sports writer in general. He wrote for the AJC for 24 years (1983-2007), the primary portion of a distinguished career.

Privileged to call myself a colleague of Jack’s, I recall that and more.

I met Jack shortly after my arrival at the AJC in 1998 to cover high-school sports, a job that placed me at the bottom of the pyramid. As a general assignment sports writer, Jack wrote about all of the major teams and events in Atlanta and Georgia. He had chronicled the 1996 Summer Olympics. He covered the Masters and the NCAA Tournament every year.

But, well beyond that, he was exceptional at what he did. He wrote with witty turns of phrase, poignant storytelling and a sense of fun.

In short, he was what I aspired to be as a sports writer.

Jack embraced the job. He adeptly handled the nuts-and-bolts assignments, but he also turned creative ideas into brilliant stories. He loved wordplay. I still remember a first-person story he wrote about a fall weekend in 1999 when Georgia Tech, Georgia and the Falcons all were at home — the Yellow Jackets on a Thursday night — enabling him to document the experience of attending all three, along with two high-school games Friday night and a youth league game Saturday morning.

The following week, he enthusiastically told me about it, sharing a line that he was going to use about the youth game.

“It was a game for the ages,” he said. “Ages 9-10.”

That was more than 25 years ago, and in my mind’s eye, I can still see his delight in his bon mot.

That’s not what I’ll remember most about Jack, though. Every Tuesday, all of us who covered high school sports from suburban bureaus converged on the downtown office to meet with our editor, Jim Greene.

Unlike most of the department’s writing staff, who mostly worked from home, Jack invariably was there at his desk.

And though we didn’t deserve it, he treated us like equals. He told funny, self-deprecating stories. He shared his behind-the-scenes anecdotes of the teams we dreamed of covering someday. He was engaging and encouraging. We delighted in his attention and validation.

He didn’t have to be that way. We were peers in name only, and we weren’t of much benefit to him. But he was.

“Here was this really accomplished writer, and he was genuinely interested in us,” a friend and AJC colleague from that time, John Manasso, recalled this week. “He liked talking to us. He loved people, he loved sports, he loved journalism or sports writing. He just loved to talk about it. It didn’t matter who you were.”

Jack and his wife, Janet Ward, were kind enough to invite me to their annual holiday parties, raucous events attended by many of the most established (and fun) members of the entire AJC staff.

At that time, I was taking my first steps of adulthood, was new to Atlanta and was trying to become something at the AJC. To be recognized and included by someone whom I looked up to so much gave me affirmation that’s difficult to quantify.

John, who came to the AJC to cover high school sports shortly after I did, remembered those same parties — the energy in the house, Jack’s connection within the sports department and across the newsroom and his hearty laugh.

“Everything was so cool,” John said. “It wasn’t just like, This is who I aspire to be in my career. This is, like, the person I aspire to be.”

Thankfully, I remained in occasional contact with Jack after his departure from the AJC, normally at gatherings at Manuel’s, his favorite haunt. He was invariably encouraging of my work.

He continued to be a meaningful part of John’s life, as well. When John’s sister was diagnosed with cancer and was given months to live, Jack got together with him multiple times at Manuel’s.

One particular occasion, “Jack and I just sat there for a couple hours with him listening and just kind of being there for me,” John said.

When he was planning to leave journalism for public relations, John reached out to Jack for help with a firm owner with whom he had a connection.

“First of all, I almost fell over that Jack was on LinkedIn,” John said.

Jack personally delivered a handwritten note to his friend explaining why he should hire John, who got the job.

“It gave me this great second career,” John said. “Just so thankful for that. That’s the kind of person he was. He was loyal and cared deeply about his friends.”

That we all could be remembered so lovingly.

Rest well, Jack. And thank you.