Meredith Oakley, “lioness of Arkansas journalism”, dies at 72

Former Arkansas Democrat-Gazette Associate Editor and Voices page editor Meredith Lynn Oakley died July 19 at her home in Little Rock. She was 72.

Details on her personal life are scarce. She was born in Portland, Ore. on June 9, 1951 to the late Thomas and Margaret Puckett, and was a 1969 graduate of North Little Rock High School.

It was while writing for the Hi-Comet, the NLRHS school newspaper, that she found her calling. Oakley was quoted in 1997 obituary of NLRHS English, creative writing and journalism teacher Katye Lou Russell, saying, “I wanted to be an editor, but she made me a columnist. She showed me that I had an ability and she showed me how to use it.” Oakley went on to study journalism at Arkansas State College, now the University of Central Arkansas.

Oakley joined the staff of the Arkansas Democrat in 1976, beginning, as the Arkansas Times wrote, “a 35-year career in which she made her name as a scathingly honest critic of those in power.” She was known as being an especially tough critic of the Arkansas Legislature and of then-Governor and later-President Bill Clinton, of whom her disdain gained her national attention. She was a contributor to C-SPAN during the 1980s and 1990s, and her book, “On the Make: The Rise of Bill Clinton” was published in June 1994.

She was often called the “right-hand-man” of the Democrat’s Managing Editor, John Robert Starr, and stood at his side during the newspaper war of the 80s and 90s, as the Democrat overtook the Arkansas Gazette. It was said that the newspaper war gave Oakley vigor and she needed to be in competition to feel at her best. After the dust settled and the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette emerged, Oakley was named Associate Editor and was charged with the Voices page, into which she breathed new life.

In a memorial editorial published the day after her death, the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette wrote, “Her column was an almost-daily feature of this paper. And for her day job, she ran the Voices page –– like a drill sergeant. In fact, a smarty-pants editorial writer once told her, to her face, that she was like U.S. Army toilet paper: Rough, tough, and didn’t take much off anybody. She beamed. She took it as the compliment it was meant to be. And it may have made her week, her month, her year. She repeated it several times that day to make sure others heard it. She seemed elated, encouraged by such descriptions.”

Oakley was a member of the Society of Professional Journalists, Arkansas Pro Chapter and served as SPJ Region 12 Director from 1987 to 1991.

Carla Koen, a former copy editor at the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette and former editor of Little Rock Monthly magazine, said, “Meredith was enigmatic. I saw her in the newsroom every day and that formed my view of her as tough, dedicated and one of the few women in the news business who found a shred of equality. Than, I got to know her during Farkleberry Follies, (the biennial gridiron show staged by SPJ from 1967-1999 to fund journalism scholarships). Boy, was I ever glad I did. Her fun, silly, musical side was as big - or bigger - than that ‘bitchy’ persona she was known for.”

Oakley was also known as a fierce defender of the Arkansas Freedom of Information Act. Eric J. Francis, former managing editor of the North Little Rock Times, said Oakley was “a hard-nosed newspaperwoman who never put anyone ahead of her readers, the people of Arkansas. We served together on the FOIA Coalition and testified at the state legislature against laws that would weaken the people’s right to know. She never gave an inch, because she understood all too well how many miles legislators and special interests would grab in return.”

Oakley left the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette in March 2011. In her final column she wrote, “My old boss and mentor, the late John R. Starr, once chided that loyalty was both my greatest attribute and my greatest fault. He was wrong. If I am anything in great abundance, it is stubborn. I don’t give up or give in easily. ...It always made me smile whenever a colleague would remark that, in researching a bit of Arkansas governmental or political history, he or she had come across an old byline of mine. It makes me smile now to consider that someday others may do the same. They won’t know or care who I was, but my name will be there regardless. It’s as close to immortality as I’m ever going to come in this life, but it will suffice.”

No survivors or service details were announced.