A R GEOFFRE A technician shows his stuff: Jimmie Mitchell of KGUN-TV works the cameras in Tu HadHePr Hit t he0 Times Tube new, cost-conscious manage- ments trying to better their profit pictures by squeezing millions from news budgets. ABC was taken over by Capital Cities; CBS turned itself over to billionaire Laurence Tisch to avert a hostile takeover; NBC, a part of RCA, was ac- quired by General Electric. All three networks faced news-di- vision strikes this year, princi- pally over job security in the face of inevitable layoffs. Since 1984 the three shops have fired or sweetened resignation and retirement packages for hun- dreds of employees in their news divisions (and hundreds in other divisions as well). Some of those experienced hands have grabbed off places at local stations in medium and large markets, which once were likely starting places for young people. That means that even smaller markets are swamped with applicants. "I don't think it needs to sound so hopeless, but I don't think I EY CLIFFORD could start out in Louisville, ,son Ky., today," says that lumi- nous success symbol Diane Sawyer of CBS, a Kentucky native who began her career doing local news and weather at WLKY-TV in 1967. "The wait- ing lists at smaller stations are going to be longer and longer." Which is not to say that a persistent applicant will never find work; the posi- tion is simply apt to be more pedestrian than in the palmier past. The Labor Department, projecting into the mid- 1990s, says prospects for radio and TV newscasters are just average. Demand for writers, editors and producers should grow at a faster pace. The same is true for skilled technicians-like Jimmie Mitch- ell, a recent Arizona graduate who now works as a cameraman for KGUN-TV in Tucson-despite the fact that in the field, one-person sound / light / camera crews are increasingly common. Fewer journeymen: "People of considerable talent find their careers stopped at lower and lower levels," says Mona Mangan, executive director of the Writers Guild East, who handled strike negotiations at ABC and CBS earlier this year. "There are fewer journeymen in the business. You get ahead and suddenly find you have no- where to go." Salaries range all over the lot, from $11,000 for a beginning produc- tion assistant in a small market, to about $75,000 for a correspondent in a city like Boston, to at least $100,000 for a net- work correspondent. Only a select-and Economies dim job prospects in television First, the glitter. Tamara Maher spent the summer a few desks down from a man she calls "Pe- ter"-Peter Jennings of ABC. You may know him: he does a news show. She was a summer intern. "You see everything that's going on," says Maher, a junior at New York's Hofstra University. "It's fascinating. This is experience that most people will not actually have." Now the grit. What she did all day was "make sure the TV's are tuned to the right chan- nel and keep the coffee going," as well as answering the phones and delivering scripts. For all her eagerness, Maher does confess that these duties do not always offer a stimulating challenge. "The phone does get to be a pain after a while," she says. OK, so Woodward and Bernstein would not be bowled over. But television news- as Bernstein himself discovered during a relatively brief stint with ABC-often looks more glamorous from the outside. Insiders have long known that broadcast- ing can be a rough-and-tumble business. And in these budget-minded days, it's rougher than ever-shaken by layoffs, strikes and narrowed opportunities. "The ability for someone to come in and learn about the business is limited," says one 35- year-old producer for a respected news show. "It's a little bit like being a member of the steel industry and watching it all fall apart. It's a very bad time." Harder times can be traced to a climatic shift in the industry. All three net- works have recently been transformed by 24 NEWSWEEK ON CAMPUS OCTOBER 1987