I never had the chance to meet him, but it's no exaggeration to say that Rene Cappon, who died yesterday at the age of 83, was a big part of the reason I became a journalist.

In 1990, I was working as a newsroom clerk at the Staten Island (N.Y.) Advance -- the flagship paper of the Newhouse chain, for the uninitiated -- mailing out prizes to folks who completed the paper?s ?Word Search? puzzle and performing other such tasks. I was in my third year at St. John?s University at the time, and I was working at the paper part time on weekdays, after classes.

That summer, however, was different. It was the first time I?d worked at the paper full time, and as the Advance newsroom?s guy Friday, I had roughly about four hours? worth of work with which to fill an eight-hour day. I still remember the coating of dust that covered virtually every surface, as the newsroom was being renovated at the time.

As I was not a reporter -- I wasn?t even a writer then -- I sat at a desk with no computer, so I relied on reading material to fill the gaps between office tasks. One day I found a copy of ?The Word: An Associated Press Guide to Good News Writing,? written by some newsman named Rene J. Cappon. I had nothing else at hand, so I started reading -- and I was instantly hooked.

In his descriptions of how to capture events in news reports and deliver them clearly and concisely with a sense of urgency to keep readers engaged, Cappon?s words made such painfully honest, perfect sense. The usual pretense associated with many journalists and newswriters who shared any of their secrets wasn?t there; notably absent was the pompous, schoolteacher tone that pervades so many grammar tomes I?ve read in the years since.

In its place was real, practical advice, from a man who obviously loved words, understood well their power and meaning, and felt the responsibility to pass on his knowledge to others. Cappon?s AP obit today reminded me of some of his bits of wisdom:

"For color, reporters cannot rely on phrases and fancy -- or ready-made -- figures of speech," he wrote. "They rely on hard particulars. They must train themselves to spot those small, specific details that give intimate glimpses into the nature of the subject."

Writing, he stated in the book, "is not transcribed conversation, but good writing is never that remote from spoken idiom."

Too true. And too often these days, this is advice not followed.

Feature writing, he wrote, "thrives on color, nuance, wit, fancy, emotive words, dialogue, character. Feature writers, like novelists, have many literary devices to engage readers emotionally, and that's their privilege.

"But freedom, as has often been noted, entails responsibility. Feature writers must be accurate and scrupulously fair."

One of the most valuable pieces of advice I gleaned from "The Word," though, and one that I quote most often, was his suggestion to "raise the curtain on human action" when composing the lede.

In any story, he explained, the ?what? is important, as is the ?who.? But it?s the ?why? that gets ?em every time. The human aspect of any news report, when executed with powerful description -- and a pinch of restraint -- is quite often the most effective way of grabbing the reader.

By the time I?d gotten through ?The Word? for nearly the second time, I started to appreciate the simultaneous complexity and simplicity in composing great news reports. And I knew that I could put that advice to work in practical applications. And not to get too dramatic about it, but I felt a certain compulsion to do so. I understood what Cappon was teaching, what he was striving for. And that providing engaging, accurate reporting was an important thing to be doing for a living.

And I still do.

Thanks, Mr. Cappon, for providing an invaluable resource that journalists for decades to come can look to in learning (or sharpening) their craft, and for pointing this journalist to a career that remains deeply rewarding.