Diane Lewis, at 54; Globe reporter covered unions, workers rights

With a reporter such as Diane Lewis, a phone interview could be the most disquieting time of the day for a company boss or a union leader who was running roughshod over low-level workers.

"She was dogged," said Kimberly Blanton, a Globe business reporter who for a time sat at a desk near Ms. Lewis's. "Employers don't want to talk about employment policy. Unions play a lot of political games on the phone. Diane knew that, and she would hammer away on the phone until she got the information she needed. It was a tough beat for so many unique reasons, and she had it figured out."

The daughter of a Jamaican immigrant, Ms. Lewis grew up witnessing firsthand the indignities visited upon people of color, immigrants, and those who work for the smallest paychecks. During the past 15 years at the Globe, she brought reporting skills, an instinct for telling stories, and her own experience to bear on hundreds of stories about the labor movement, the workplace, and the lives of those trying to survive in an unpredictable economy.

Ms. Lewis, who spent 26 years at the Globe covering everything from courts to Cambridge to mental health, died Tuesday in Montefiore Medical Center in the Bronx, N.Y. She was 54 and had been diagnosed with cancer two years ago.

"In every way that matters, Diane Lewis was a model citizen," said Steve Bailey, an associate editor and business columnist at the Globe. "As a journalist, she worked hard and never ran with the pack. She always had an eye for the different story, usually for the underdog. At home, she took marvelous care of her daughter and her mom. She's someone I always admired."

As much as colleagues admired her work, they were more impressed at how Ms. Lewis balanced her life. The only child of a single parent -- her father died when she was young -- Ms. Lewis was herself a single parent with an only child. That gave her a perspective not every reporter brings to writing about people in everyday jobs.

"Her legacy is her passion toward the underdog," said Stephen Kurkjian, a former senior assistant metro editor at the Globe. "It wasn't covering the labor unions that was the hallmark of her reporting; it was covering the laborers, those people who don't have a college education, who depend on their union to represent them well, and often the union can't make a difference. When they talked to Diane, their voice was heard."

She grew up in East Orange, N.J., where in elementary school she became friends with Dawn Powell-Douglas, herself the only child of a Jamaican immigrant mother. When the two later ended up in different neighborhoods and different schools, they met each Saturday morning at the library to read, talk, and keep up with each other's lives. Ms. Lewis never took friendship lightly.

"There's a Jamaican saying that good friends are better than pocket money, and she had that in her life," Powell-Douglas said. "She had amazing friends. Anyone who knew her would do anything for her."

In 1975, Ms. Lewis graduated from Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland with a degree in English literature. She wrote for small publications around Cleveland for a couple of years and was a publicist for the city's library, then attended a fellowship program at the University of California at Berkeley. Afterward, she spent three years at the Telegram & Gazette in Worcester as a general assignment reporter before being hired by the Globe.

Ms. Lewis, who lived in Boston, had her greatest impact writing about workers who had fallen prey to bad working conditions, bad bosses, or both.

Working with Kurkjian two years ago, she held up to scrutiny a national company that was selling commercial cleaning franchises to immigrants. Some workers invested up to $32,000 for a franchise, only to find themselves laboring for meager wages. Because of her thorough reporting and sharp eye for documentation, Kurkjian said, many workers ended up getting their money back.

Having learned to live an independent life early on, Ms. Lewis wanted to raise her daughter to be strong.

"I really liked that although she knew a lot of things, she never acted as if she knew everything," said her daughter, Karina Sharif, a student at Pratt Institute in New York City. "It wasn't the kind of relationship where she was always, always right. Sometimes she took advice from me, which made me feel nice. She valued my opinion."

After she was diagnosed with cancer, Ms. Lewis traveled with friends to a resort. Always frugal, she had directed most of her income toward home and raising her daughter, but on that day she luxuriated in a rare spa experience.

"She had her very first massage, and a big old grin came on her face," said Glenda Buell, a Globe copy editor. "I had never seen her so happy. Being a single mother all these years, she had not spent a lot of time pampering herself. There was just a glow about her."

Reluctant to draw attention even when she was quite ill, Ms. Lewis was matter-of-fact when telling friends and colleagues about the diagnosis. As always, her biggest concern was for her daughter.

"The only time she teared up was when she said, 'I just wish I could live for five years to see Karina into adulthood,' " said Julie Dalton, a Globe copy editor.

A memorial service will be held at 1 p.m. Sunday in Eliot Church of Roxbury.