EDITOR’S NOTE

Last year at this time I predicted a dull, dry year for Dallas in 1989. Well, was I wrong? Aside from the arrival of the Arkansas regime at the Cowboys and a little civil disobedience down at City Hall, most of the excitement around here lay in looking forward to a new decade.

And, thank God, it’s here. We can stop talking about the Nineties and start living them. So let’s celebrate with our annual review of the year’s best and worst moments (see page 51). And in keeping with tradition, here are a few of D’s highs and lows:

Strangest reaction to our restaurant coverage: When we find a homey little neighborhood pizza joint that we really like, we don’t hold back. We effuse. And that’s what we did when we discovered Stevie V’s in East Dallas. And where did that get Stevie? Out of business. The onslaught of customers found Stevie hopelessly unprepared, and his legions of would-be new customers went away angry. Sorry, Steve, next time we’ll messenger over some extra , tomato sauce. And hold the adjectives.

Even stranger reaction to our restaurant coverage: At the risk of adding fuel to the duel that won’t die, Del Frisco’s Double Eagle Steak House, which is owned by a man who calls himself Del Frisco, is now claiming that rival steak house Mike’s Del Frisco’s in The Crescent, which is owned by a man who used to work for the man who calls himself Del Frisco, faked its way to the top of the D Readers’ Poll of the town’s top restaurants, published in last August’s issue. Del is reportedly gathering signed affidavits to prove it.

Second-best-selling cover: Our best-selling cover is almost always our January Best & Worst issue, but the cover that gave January a real run for its money in ’89 was July. The cover subject was Billy Weber, the former pastor of Pres-tonwood Baptist Church, who, having scandalized his affluent flock with a series of inter-congregational affairs, was attempting to start a new church in Far North Dallas.

Worst-selling cover: Was it the color? Was it confusing? Was it the cigar? Our dazed Humpty Dumpty, who symbolized the dying breed of fat cats who used to churn the local economy, drew a real goose egg. Despite its promise that a new “Brain Trust” will save the city from ruin, our March issue, which profiled twenty local scientists, was the worst seller of the year.

Worst blooper by a reporter on an interview: And speaking of that ill-fated issue, Assistant Editor Lucie Nelka, in gathering data on the scientists, asked the famed German-American chemist Johann Deisenhofer how he felt “after you won the Pulitzer Prize.”

Worst hate mail: The hate mail has trickled in rather steadily over the past year, so it’s difficult to pinpoint the story that hit the most hot buttons. American Airlines CEO Robert Crandall, our cover subject for November, certainly can claim his share of defenders (see Let’R Rip, page 9), and so can all those helpless little critters sacrificed to science we wrote about in “Unpeaceable Kingdom,” a story about animal rights vs. medical research. Perhaps the most novel twist on the garden-variety poison pen letter came from City Council candidate Helen Giddings, who vehemently objected to being lumped in with a group of black professionals reportedly dissatisfied with activist leaders like Diane Ragsdale (“The Briefcase Blacks,” May). Giddings called a press conference to denounce the story.

Best telephone query: We always aim to please, but this one had us stumped. A gentleman phoned us inquiring where in Dallas he could live and still be within walking distance of a smorgasbord.

Worst unsolicited story idea: And finally, our favorite article queries from eager freelancers. It’s a toss-up between a holiday piece called “Christmas With Gene Autry” and a health story on leafy green nutrients, taking off from the astonishing fact that Dallas spelled backwards is “Sallad.” Now that’s diputs.