We knew who had the best jam (Eggshell's raspberry, no contest) and where they kept the Country Crock at Butterfield's (in a special drawer in the kitchen where we often had to guide the newbie waitresses). A pal, a trusted confidant, a dear friend, as he was to me.įor years - and years - we met for breakfast - Egg Harbor in Lake Forest and Glenview, Eggshell Cafe in Deerfield, Rise n Dine in Wheeling and, for the last several years, Butterfield's in Northbrook. He knew his wine, to which Peggy Kusinski, his partner in crime on many a Bears' road trip, would attest.įor all of us, Moon represented something different and yet something so very much the same. But it does win them respect among those who knew Moon and can look back today at a body of work and say he was one of our best.įor his contemporaries, though, today is not one in which we will talk about his work but rather a man who, we are learning, had deep friendships with so many of us relationships held together with kind texts and encouraging words, a practical joke that he took as well as he gave, as Dan Pompei and Fred Mitchell could tell you, and a glass of wine or two. That doesn't often win people promotions in our business. And it would, more often than not, result in him getting another, bigger story down the line, tipped by a player, coach or front-office employee who knew they could trust Moon to get it right and wanted to pay him pay back for his earlier discretion. It cost him at times the slight hesitation to print something he knew but wanted to double-check or hold - because it wasn't worth damaging a relationship - may have meant someone else got the story first. He wanted to get the story first as much as the next reporter, probably more than the next reporter, but he was a man of principle and integrity first. We shared bylines and we shared laughs and his generosity was boundless, not just with his reporting, as one would expect, but with the genuine support and unselfishness and us-against-the-world spirit that instantly made me tougher. When Moon moved over to the Tribune in 1997, I was, of course, thrilled that my opponent was now a teammate. It was not the usual route for a journalist, but it gave him a perspective that few others had, the perfect background for someone always looking for context. He majored in history and minored in psychology, and had a Master's in Education. He worked in marketing and PR for the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. He was an insurance claims adjuster and an arson investigator. He was a tennis pro, once playing against - and losing to - an 11-year-old Andrea Jaeger, the wager a dozen chocolate-chip cookies, which he sent to her at Wimbledon. As a young man, he jumped freight trains - “but only once,” laughs his sister Ann. John Mullin, who left us on Father's Day at 74 years old after a valiant battle with cancer, was hired by the Daily Herald as a business writer in 1989 and had a life that could and should have been the subject of a fifth book. All but Moon, of course, who did more than interview B-Rob when he was a third-stringer but got to know him on a personal level as he did with virtually everyone. And he delighted in his revenge when the fierce defensive lineman Bryan Robinson moved quickly up the depth chart and became a standout in 1998, only to refuse to speak to all the jerks who didn't care enough to interview him before he was a starter. But it was more than that and we all knew it. But more than that, Moon and the depth chart were one.īears writers would tease him for his bond with the third-string offensive guard, reasoning they understood each other because Moon himself was an offensive lineman in college. His relationships were professional but deep and they went all the way through the front office. While the other beat writers may have had sources in the front office and among the players and coaches, Moon was tight with the strength and conditioning coaches, the equipment manager. He appeared to be both everyone's friend and greatest fear. He had sources and relationships and a deep reservoir of football knowledge. He was the Bears' beat writer for the Daily Herald, a presence not to be ignored, and I was the new fresh-off-maternity-leave Bears writer for the Tribune. The first time I encountered John Mullin, I knew I was in trouble. John “Moon” Mullin, whose coverage of the Chicago Bears for the Daily Herald, Chicago Tribune and Comcast Sports earned him the respect of fans, players and peers, died Sunday after a battle with cancer.
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