Rex Hammock passed away earlier this year.
If you were part of the media blogosphere back when that was a thing, you knew Rex. He was everywhere -- writing on his blog (Rexblog.com), speaking from the podium at every magazine conference, quoted in seemingly every issue of Folio magazine, Publishing Executive, and Magazine Industry News (min).
Folio, PubExec and min have all shuttered. Rexblog went dark awhile back. Now Rex himself is gone.
I'm not sure what to write that might express the gratitude I have for Rex. But I do know what to do about that. Here's why: the most popular post on this blog for many years is titled "Blogito, ergo sum." It tells a story about my thinking process. And that blog post begins with mention of a conversation I'd had earlier with Rex.
Rex was like that. Conversations with him had a way of sticking with you and leading to new ideas. There was something about talking with Rex that had weight. He had a sort of depth that I found compelling. Rex was a religious man. Perhaps that explains the sort of gravity he brought to every conversation I had with him. Talking with Rex always felt important. And because of that, Rex was important to me.
In "Blogito, ergo sum" I wrote that earlier in my career I had "felt that my thoughts had to be completely formed before someone read them. In fact, there had to be agreement that my thoughts were fully formed. Because there was always at least one editor who had to believe that my thoughts made sense. But in blogging, things are different. Just as thinking and writing have always been linked in my head, now thinking and publishing are linked. I can share my thoughts as they form."
So I while my thoughts about Rex are still unformed, while I may not yet know want I want to say about him, I know what to do. I'm going to blog.
Barbarians at the gate
The funny thing about the early stages of the blogging craze was how upset it made powerful people in media. Blogs allowed all sort of knuckleheads like me to build an audience. I blogged about B2B publishing (still widely referred to as trade publishing back then). Other knuckleheads blogged about other niche subjects.
But no matter what subject you blogged about, there seemed to be some subject-matter expert somewhere who wanted you to shut up. I've told the story many times of how at the very first B2B publishing conference where I was a speaker, I sat down for lunch at a table of old-timers only to have them stand up and leave en masse rather that eat with me.
Blogging was like that in the early years. Bloggers weren't from the old world and weren't welcome at the table.
Rex was the exception.
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| The image that ran on Rex' Twitter profile |
Rex was the rarest type of blogger then. He was already successful. He was already well-known. Everyone wanted Rex at their table.
Rex was the founder and CEO of Hammock Publishing, a custom publisher based in Nashville. The company was a major force in B2B publishing (particularly in the subset of association publishing.) In other words, Rex was a serious guy with a serious business. He had weight.
He started blogging anyway.
Rex blogged about publishing. He blogged about politics and football and music. He blogged about the weather. He blogged about the TV show "Lost." He blogged about everything. He also promoted the idea of blogging to other executives and his employees.
Rex, at least to me, was Rex because he blogged. He celebrated the idea that anyone could share their thoughts, and that belief made him who he was. Blogitat, ergo erat.
The ethics fight
A few years into the blogging phenomenon, I found myself in the center of multiple battles over journalism ethics. Things were happening in Web publishing that clearly violated journalism ethics, so I started screaming into the void.
I won't recount all those fights here. There are too many of them. It's hard to imagine now that the early days of Web journalism were such an ethical mess. But they were. And nothing illustrated that more than the surge of publishers selling links within editorial copy. (For a full explainer, check out this old article from the Wall Street Journal.)
If you were in B2B journalism during the fight over IntelliTXT and other hypertext ad services, you likely don't need to be reminded what happened. But if you weren't in the B2B game back then, you need to know this: the only top-tier media executive who supported the fight against hypertext ads was Rex. He posted comments to my rage-filled blog posts. He mentioned me on his blog. He discussed the issue repeatedly. Over time, the Web filled with blog posts that quoted me yelling hysterically and Rex supporting me in a reasonable tone.
About a year after the fight began, the links were pulled and the battle was over. I have no doubt that if not for Rex' support, I'd still be screaming about those damn links.
Because I, as one critic put it, was just a "bathroom prophet" (don't ask me to explain that phrase. It made no sense then and makes no sense now.) But Rex said I was right. And Rex had weight. So we won, and editorial teams kept control over editorial content.
So I ask that you take a moment to remember Rex Hammock. If you knew him, you knew he was a kind and lovely man. Whether or not you knew him, if you work in journalism you owe him a debt.
Rest in peace, Rex.
You can read an obituary of Rex on the Tennessean newspaper website.
