Professor Eden Speaks

Originality is not among David Eden's blessings. The Free Times' editor has a habit of taking cheap shots at people in power, often bestowing a bad nickname in the process -- like a discount Chris Berman. County Prosecutor Bill Mason? He's the "Parma political hack." Mayor Campbell is "Queen Jane." Eden's distaste for Alex Machaskee is so intense that the Plain Dealer publisher has earned two names, the ever-imaginative "lame duck" as well as "the snake."

Of course, Eden and his staff rarely do any actual reporting on these guys. Rarer still would be the sight of Eden calling his foes for their views.

So it was none too surprising when Eden took a swipe at PD columnist Regina Brett. His ammo was weak: Brett is married to Bruce Henness. And Henness does public relations for Forest City, the biggest developer in town. Implication: There's something nefarious going on here.

Brett, of course, rarely weighs in on development or politics, preferring heart-rending tales of Clevelanders in crisis. But one of her harshest columns to date excoriated her husband's boss, Forest City's Sam Miller, for defending the Catholic church during its pedophilia crisis. Hubby's lapdog, she ain't.

Eden, however, isn't prone to letting such small matters of logic muzzle his yap. Brett's marriage offered a convenient opportunity to call out another frequent target, PD editor Doug Clifton. "Maybe an appearance of a conflict of interest, Mr. Clifton, if not more? Cleveland is a small town, isn't it?"

He's got one thing right: Cleveland is a small town.

So small, in fact, that people know David Eden also spent a decade in the world of spam e-mail and public relations. And it just so happens that Eden worked for a certain big-time developer named -- dare we say it -- Forest City. In fact, Eden's job was to help the company manipulate the press.

In a 1994 document that he prepared, Eden refers to himself as "the professor," offering cunning advice for the executive under scrutiny. The text has the cerebral firepower of a ransom note -- "If you talk, be sure to talk in short sentences." But as a service to you, dear reader, Punch graciously offers these excerpts, in case you're ever in need of remedial PR advice:

· Whatever you do, don't make small talk with reporters, Eden writes. "Avoid speculation, or what may seem to be just idle chit-chat. You can be burned!" Creating the suspicion that he's being paid by the word, Eden later repeats: "Watch yourself. A reporter may just chit-chat with you for some time, and then use your seemingly casual comment for a quote when you least suspect it." Hmmm, that sounds suspiciously like The Nose.

· "It is also important never to be backed into a 'no comment' situation," notes The Professor. "When you say "No comment" . . . you lose! Instead, say something like, 'We're looking into that situation right now and will get back to you as soon as we can.'" There's irony here: Whenever the poor flacks at City Hall can't answer David Eden's question right now, they get a thorough drubbing in his paper. But The Professor has a different take: "Call this media babble -- or giving a non-answer that will suffice as an answer until you have the answer." Gotcha.

· Finally, "Don't believe because you have a 'nice relationship' with a reporter that he or she is your 'friend,'" Eden writes. "A reporter's job is to act like a friend so you will talk freely and give good quotes and information." In other words, if David Eden starts acting like your pal, run!

The Professor wouldn't discuss his words of wisdom. His only response to Punch's interview request was a terse e-mail saying that "I did not criticize Bruce or Regina." (He also said that he loved our hogging story.) But his central theme is to distrust journalists -- they secretly want to hurt you. Sage advice, and definitely worth considering the next time a Free Times reporter calls.

Where's Al?
Alan Channing, CEO of St. Vincent Hospital since 1998, has left the building. Where and when, we can't say. But when Punch called St. Vincent last week, a secretary announced that "Mr. Channing no longer works here."

Board chairman Thomas V. Chema didn't have time for an interview, but provided a written statement. "Alan Channing resigned due to differences of views he had with the board of directors. He was offered another position with the organization which he has since declined."

Channing, you may remember, is the guy who signed off an a $750,000-a-year contract for Derrick McElroy, a promising young surgeon from Dallas ("Silencing Dr. Kirby," July 2). McElroy moved to Cleveland, only to see his life made a living hell. His lawsuit -- and conversations he surreptiously recorded -- detail how hospital administrators tried to renege on the contract almost as soon as he arrived.