On some days, reading great work makes me proud to be a member of the tribe. Yesterday, Sept. 12, was such a day. The great work comes from Robert D. McFadden of The New York Times, assisted by nine colleagues. McFadden's story carries the headline "Nation Marks Lives Lost and Signs of Healing" and begins with this lead:

Read that lead again, aloud this time. Go ahead, please. Read it aloud. I'll wait.

For such a story, on such a day, the news can read like poetry. I hope my critical interpretation of the language of the lead will enhance your experience rather than dilute the magic.

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Let me begin with the inherent drama and symbolism of ceremony. The tolling of bells and the reading of names place us in a familiar, but still emotional setting, fraught with history and meaning. (There's a writing tool here: Take advantage of the reporting and writing opportunities afforded by ceremony -- a wedding, a funeral, a christening. Recall the final scenes of "The Godfather," when the camera moves us from Michael standing as godfather for a baptism to scenes of bloody executions of the Godfather's mob rivals.)

In this lead, and throughout the piece, details echo so effectively they might have appeared as natural sound in a brilliant NPR story. The bells are leaden. They toll. The names are recited. On that dreadful day in 2001, explosions rumbled like summer thunder. (The poet would point out the repetition of those short "u" sounds, a device called "assonance.")

The writer chooses words with care, and each reverberates with a solemn tone. Examine the language. Listen to it: leaden, bells, tolled, mourning, loved ones, recited, names of the dead, ground zero, a wounded ... America, summer thunder, fell from the sky.

McFadden begins his lead with three elements, a symbolic number that represents the whole. More interesting is the movement through the triad: from bells, to loved ones, to a resilient America -- from a symbolic physical object, to powerful stakeholders, to an abstract representation of the nation as a whole.

Finally, this lead of 45 words ends with a haunting, almost mystical image. The bloodless euphemism of people falling from the sky reflects a decorum, a sensitivity that helps us remember with resolution and hope, rather than bitterness and despair.

Much of the story lends itself to such instructive close reading, so I invite you to read the rest of it and share it with your colleagues.

Thank you, Mr. McFadden and crew.

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