Chicago Sun-Times Copy Editor and Family Man Jim Fleming Passes Away at 84
Jim Fleming, the former copy editor who kept his colleagues on their toes with his eagle eye for detail, has left an indelible mark on the Chicago Sun-Times. The soft-spoken introvert may have seemed unassuming, but his dedication to accuracy and truth earned him a reputation as a steady force on the editorial board.
Fleming's approach to editing was not about pointing out grammatical errors or nitpicking words – although he did enjoy subtly correcting even the most mundane mistakes, like misspelled "carrot" on a grocery list. For Fleming, it was about protecting his colleagues and readers from sloppy reporting. His mantra? "I'm silently editing your grammar," emblazoned on a T-shirt that became a nod to his enduring legacy.
As a weekend warrior, Fleming worked through the quiet hours of the night, giving his younger colleagues a much-needed break during the busy daily grind. This selflessness only added to his hero status among his peers, who praised him for his unwavering integrity and ability to call out stories that didn't meet the paper's standards.
Fleming's impact went beyond the newsroom; he was deeply rooted in the city he loved. As a reporter in Richmond, Indiana, he covered a devastating gas explosion that claimed 41 lives in 1968 – an event that still brought him to tears years later. His connection to the community and commitment to accuracy made him a sought-after voice on public officials' titles and key dates.
Those who knew Fleming described him as a true gentleman, always approaching reporters and editors with tact and courtesy. There was no ego or condescension in his approach – only a genuine desire to serve the reader and uphold the highest standards of journalism.
At 84, Fleming's passing leaves behind a legacy of dedication, integrity, and a love for the city he served for decades. As he once mused about leaving the Sun-Times building, now demolished, "It's dilapidated and old," but so am I – a testament to his humility and commitment to the craft that defined him.
Jim Fleming, the former copy editor who kept his colleagues on their toes with his eagle eye for detail, has left an indelible mark on the Chicago Sun-Times. The soft-spoken introvert may have seemed unassuming, but his dedication to accuracy and truth earned him a reputation as a steady force on the editorial board.
Fleming's approach to editing was not about pointing out grammatical errors or nitpicking words – although he did enjoy subtly correcting even the most mundane mistakes, like misspelled "carrot" on a grocery list. For Fleming, it was about protecting his colleagues and readers from sloppy reporting. His mantra? "I'm silently editing your grammar," emblazoned on a T-shirt that became a nod to his enduring legacy.
As a weekend warrior, Fleming worked through the quiet hours of the night, giving his younger colleagues a much-needed break during the busy daily grind. This selflessness only added to his hero status among his peers, who praised him for his unwavering integrity and ability to call out stories that didn't meet the paper's standards.
Fleming's impact went beyond the newsroom; he was deeply rooted in the city he loved. As a reporter in Richmond, Indiana, he covered a devastating gas explosion that claimed 41 lives in 1968 – an event that still brought him to tears years later. His connection to the community and commitment to accuracy made him a sought-after voice on public officials' titles and key dates.
Those who knew Fleming described him as a true gentleman, always approaching reporters and editors with tact and courtesy. There was no ego or condescension in his approach – only a genuine desire to serve the reader and uphold the highest standards of journalism.
At 84, Fleming's passing leaves behind a legacy of dedication, integrity, and a love for the city he served for decades. As he once mused about leaving the Sun-Times building, now demolished, "It's dilapidated and old," but so am I – a testament to his humility and commitment to the craft that defined him.