I was still a sophomore at John Adams High in Portland when the skyajcker forever known as D.B. Cooper dropped into history.
But five years later, I was working beside the man who named him. A man you’ve never known, but who was a funny, gentle man and a heck of a good reporter at United Press International in Portland.
His name: Clyde Jabin. And he was on duty the late-November night in 1971 when Cooper — shown on the passenger list as Dan Cooper — demanded all that money and two parachutes, and … well, the rest of the story is pretty well known.
What’s not as well known is how “Dan” became “D.B.”
In a time when wire services were the principal method of news disseminated far and wide, long before the Web etc., UPI was the David to the mighty non-profit Associated Press, which meant we had to outhustle the AP folks every day, running for our survival.
Anyhoo, as my mentor and friend, the bureau manager at the time, Billy Joe McFarland re-related for no doubt the umpteenth time on an e-mail list many of us former Unipressers are part of, Clyde was on the phone with an FBI agent and taking down the hijacker’s name. He apparently asked, on hearing the name, “D as in dog, or B as in Boy?” or somesuch. Whatever the answer was over that phone line, he typed both initials, and it went from notes to article to the wire (still sent to newsrooms around the world by clattering teletypes – remind me to tell you the “joy” of changing those ribbons some time) – and into history.
Just about every article that noted the two names over the decades has practically sneered at how the mistake became “fact,” through an “error” by UPI.
Anyone who’s worked in a wire service and has churned out the tons of articles we have (and they still do) knows that being your own editor is a tightwire without a safety net that can leave you swinging in the wind at times.
But from all I remember of the kind, gentle Clyde Jabin from the years I knew him, he didn’t let his unfortunate small role in history make him angry or bitter. He laughed it off, because, after all, to err is human, etc.
To make history with a mistake is far from unique. But Clyde, who died several years back in a tragic car crash, was just one of the memorable characters at UPI who I’ll always remember for their competitive spirit, the place where more than anyplace else you just had to keep running at a steady pace to keep up with all the stories to write and chores to perform (typing up the midday markets, changing the paper and those dang ribbons, answering calls of every kind – hmm, still do that, and it’s still as fun at times and exasperating at others;-)
That competitive drive and enthusiasm instilled at a young age has stood me in good stead, as it did this week when I got a neat little award from my boss at work. (I Facebooked it and was humbled by the outpouring of congrats).
I’ve made far more than my share of typos and mistakes in my writing over the years. Fortunately, it’s been a pretty small percentage of the number of stories that have been pounded out on this keyboard or that.
But I’d like to dedicate a little piece of that clear plastic award to Clyde and all the fine folks who have helped me and put up with me in all those years in journalism. I’d like to think Clyde is some place special now, where he got an exclusive interview with the real ‘Dan Cooper,’ who told him:
“Just call me D.B. – everybody does, thanks to you.”
Leave it to Barney 
Barney, I love your tribute to Clyde. Clyde and I worked together at UPI and he used to drive me nuts with his non-stop energy. I needed that, though, because he’d keep me moving when moving was the last thing I had in mind. He was, above all, one of the world’s nicest human beings. Didn’t he take an early retirement in order to save the staffers with less experience from being canned during the “trouble?” He was that kind of guy.
Thanks, Susan. Sounds familiar to me, too. BTW, I had lunch here in Bend at the Pine Tavern during a visit by Clyde’s son, Darrell, who managed to avoid journalism but does work for the state (travels to explain PERS benefits) and put together a nifty lil documentary about the Oregon Blue Book;-) Good to hear from you!
My father Clyde did take early retirement for the sake of other employees. He was as kind and gentle off the job as he was on it. I think in some ways he was proud of the error as it clearly showed that his story hit the wires first and was picked up around the country and probably the world. I’ll try to look you up the next time I’m in Bend Barney.
I always knew it was Clyde.
You mean Clyde was D.B???:-)
This article is fantastic, the tribute to clyde is really nice. He was my grandfather and passed when I was young. I feel like I missed out on hearing all of his news stories but am glad to hear he touched so many.
Thanks Katie! He was a really nice guy. Some might have said he was a bit eccentric, but I bet now that I’m close to the age he was when I met him and worked with him… they’d no doubt say that about me too. I’ve made my share of typos over the years – none legendary, just a royal pain;-) Glad I gave you a glimpse into that time in our lives. Hope you’re doing well and thanks so much for the comment!