“Homeland” and Jeff Hutchins
By Monette Benoit
Copyright 2007 by Monette Benoit, All Rights Reserved.
In my opinion, Jeff Hutchins, more than any person, tipped our court reporting profession. I have always believed that more court reporters, captioners, and students need to know Jeff’s involvement in captioning technology and our profession.
In 1972, The Caption Center began captioning The French Chef. Jeff Hutchins and five individuals were hired to learn how to transcribe the PBS news four and one-half hours after it originated on ABC. The show recorded live 6 p.m. EST, was transcribed by five people.
They heavily edited programs, rewriting portions, to produce a steady reading rate of 120 words per minute at a fourth-grade reading level because experts on deafness, deaf and hearing, felt few deaf people would be able to follow verbatim captioned news. The show was broadcast with integrated captions to PBS at 11 p.m. with “live-display captioning,” a term coined by Jeff Hutchins.
In 1979, NCI, the National Captioning Institute, a private nonprofit corporation, was created using a $6 million grant to the U.S. Department of Education to develop captioning technology. Arrangements were made with Texas Instruments to produce 10 integrated circuits (“chips”) that were placed inside decoders that consumers purchased. Sanyo contracted to make “TeleCaption” decoders; Sears was given exclusive rights to sell. Once closed captioning of pre-recorded programs were under way, attention turned to development of realtime captioning of live programs. NCI hired Jeff Hutchins to oversee systems development.
In 1981, the first sports captioning was developed by Jeff Hutchins when he generated his own commentary programming of 200–300 sentences. Sentences were set with a blank space at the end of each line. The typist (often Jeff) sent a sentence filling in blanks with players’ name and facts. The displayed captions were not verbatim to commentators; facts were “called up” to replace sports running commentary. Deaf and hard-of- hearing people still desired announcers’ verbatim translation; realtime continued to be developed.
That same year, Jeff tested a prototype by Translation Systems, Inc (TSI) for captioning live TV programs. NCI hired Martin H. Block.
In 1982, Jeff Hutchins selected Marty Block to become the first realtime court reporter to be a captioner. Mr. Block became a member of the team that developed live closed captioning with Jeff at NCI in 1981 in order to caption the 1982 Academy Awards Presentation. This is the first live telecast with realtime closed captions that displayed realtime captioning of unscripted dialogue with Johnny Carson as host. Source: A.D.A. Civil Rights, Affirmative Action, Business and Convention Handbook and CATapult CD, Volume B.
I learned this history from Jeff Hutchins in 1995 when I was seeking captioning history as I prepared The History of the A.D.A. and Captioning.
Jeff and I became friends when I phoned VITAC seeking captioning history. He took my phone call and offered to fax me information. Within minutes a 13-page fax arrived in my office. My cat Brutus used to stand on my fax machine, playfully batting paper as it arrived. That cat became so entangled in Jeff’s multipage fax that I immediately phoned Jeff immediately sharing he’d darn near killed my cat. Thereafter, Brutus never ventured near any fax machine.
Jeff and I kept in touch. I loved to listen to his stories on how he worked, how captioning was created. Jeff is the nicest gentleman; he has pulled more bunnies out of his hat when I need help or advice. When I visited VITAC, I asked Jeff for my tour. He and Gary Robson privately showed me their technology. I cherish memories of their pure joy describing their world – their work.
When captioning companies discussed forming a coalition, Jeff Hutchins was their choice. Throughout the years, I receive e-mails from Jeff traveling the United States and France. While I wrote this article in August, Jeff’s on a driving vacation.
When I received Jeff’s e-mail about his CD, I laughed. This was one side of Jeff that I had not seen – or heard.
In 2006, Jeff Hutchins retired as chairman of the Accessible Media Industry Coalition, a trade association of companies that provides services such as captioning and video description so he could make media programs accessible to people with hearing and/or vision impairments.
Prior to this, Jeff was owner and executive vice president, Planning and Development, of VITAC, a Pittsburgh-based company providing complete captioning services nationwide. He also was director of Systems Development at NCI (1980-86); and from 1973-1980 was producer of “The Captioned ABC News” and an executive for The Caption Center, WGBH-TV, in Boston.
Jeff has been honored as one of the Pioneers who helped implement closed captioning. He was the author of the closed-captioning specifications adopted by the FCC in 1992, and the principal author of EIA-608. Mr. Hutchins currently is a member of the Boards of Trustees of the Western Pennsylvania School for the Deaf (Pittsburgh, PA) and the American Community School in Beirut, Lebanon. He has a Bachelor of Science degree in Broadcasting and Film from Boston University.
Here’s the June 8, 2007 e-mail prompting this holiday column:
Dear Friends, I am very excited to tell you about a four-year project, and I hope you'll be excited, too. I've been producing a CD of original songs I've written over the past 35 years or so. I always wanted to know what they'd sound like if a full band played them, instead of just me on a guitar or me in my head. I thought some of the songs would sound pretty good if they were well produced.
Four years ago, I started working with Korel Tunador, a talented man who moved from Pittsburgh to Los Angeles to pursue his music career. Between gigs, he composed and arranged songs for which I'd written melodies and lyrics. Then in early 2006, he joined the Goo Goo Dolls for their international tour, and he remains with that famous, popular band. (They'll be on Jay Leno for the umpteenth time Friday night!) He asked their drummer, Mike Malinin, to lay down drum tracks for five of my songs. Mike agreed; together he and Korel provide nearly all instrumentation.
Korel finished the twelfth song last December; since then I've been doing final mixes in Pittsburgh at Mr. Smalls Studio. There, I met Liz Berlin, a singer with Rusted Root, a popular band that went double-platinum in the '90s. She agreed to do lead vocals on my song "No Shame." Liz designed the CD package, which looks like a "gallery" wall in my home might look.
So, at long last, the CD is finished. It's called "Homeland," because that song appears twice on the CD: once in generic version, once in a special bonus track with lyrics written for the Aramco Brats with whom I grew up in Saudi Arabia.
You can preview 2:00 minutes worth of each song or buy the complete Homeland CD by going to www.cdbaby.com/hutchinsjeff. To purchase individual songs for iTunes, just go to iTunes and search for Jeff Hutchins. (CD Baby has great independent artists!)
You can also visit Jeff’s website to hear several Homeland complete songs (http://www.jeffhutchins.com/), or go to Jeff’s MySpace account: www.myspace.com/jeffhutchinshomeland.
It's all professionally done in spite of the fact that I sing all but two songs. Then let me know what you think. If you like it, please tell others. I need to sell a LOT of CDs to pay for this thing! Thanks for letting me tell you about "Homeland."
Monette: This is great music, folks! As the holidays approach, a perfect gift for our CD players, friends and family should be Jeff’s CD. Jeff has shared so much with us. Check out “Homeland,” put your feet up, rest your hands – then tip back and enjoy Jeff Hutchins’ brilliant creations.
Monette Benoit may be reached at: Tutoring@CRRbooks.com
About the Author:
Monette Benoit, B.B.A., CCR, CRI, CPE, is a JCR Contributing Editor for the National Court Reporters Association, NCRA.
She is the author of multiple books to include the NCRA Written Knowledge Test and state RPR, RMR, RDR, CSR ‘Written Knowledge Exam’ Textbook, Workbook, a companion Study Guide, ‘The CRRT WKT’ CD Software Program, 'The Advanced SAT, LSAT, GRE, Real-Time Vocabulary Workbook' and the ‘CATapult’ Dictionary CD Software Program series.
Books, CDs, private tutoring, mentoring services and articles may be referenced http://www.crrbooks.com/.
Monette is an experienced consultant, instructor, realtime court reporter, tutor, CART provider, and columnist with 120 published articles. She teaches, tutors and coaches home-study students, college students, court reporters and professionals.
Monette speaks to groups at state, national and international conventions about motivation, technology, expanding skills and Deaf, Oral Deaf, Hard of Hearing.
Monette Benoit, B.B.A., Certified Court Reporter, Certified Reporting Instructor, Certified Program Evaluator, Paralegal, may be reached at: http://www.crrbooks.com/ http://www.catapultdix.com/ and http://www.artcs.com/
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
CART And The $10,000 Spaghetti Dinner - Monsignor Balty Janacek
Monette's Musings is a blog containing information for busy professionals, students and individuals who are fearless and seek to create their success each day.
CART And The $10,000 Spaghetti Dinner
By Monette Benoit
Copyright 2007 by Monette Benoit, All Rights Reserved.
The CART community and all court reporters lost a devoted friend on April 30th, 2007. My life and our profession were improved by this gentleman.
I had been CARTing San Antonio’s St. Francis Di Paola Deaf Mass for many years. One Sunday morning before a mass, privately a new priest introduced himself, spelling his name B-a-l-t-y. He waited to shake my hand, then walked to the altar, and introduced himself to the Deaf community, “I’m the new priest and will learn sign.” We welcomed him with deaf applause.
Balty was proud of his Czech background. He had a deep love of cultures and languages. He often spoke Spanish while I realtimed - writing verbatim text projected to a large screen on the altar from my steno machine. I’d sigh; he’d smile and then translate.
As we became friends, I learned Balty was ordained in 1950. Serving multiple roles he was devoted to causes close to his heart. Balty remained involved with Native Americans and tirelessly worked to mediate retrieval of their remains, bones, from the University of Texas at San Antonio, UTSA. I am not surprised that he donated his body to UTSA.
Balty was parochial vicar at San Fernando Cathedral (where Davy Crockett is buried). Since 1967, he was director of four 18th-century Old Spanish Missions for the Archdiocese (the active parishes of Concepcion, San Jose, San Juan, and Espada Missions). Balty established the San Antonio Mission National Historical Park and a historic cooperative agreement with the National Park Service, which the NPS is working to model around the United States.
His picture was in our newspaper so often that I’d phone Balty teasing him that he was my “Where’s Waldo?” Balty was absolutely devoted to his extended family, organizing Schulenburg, Texas, reunions with nieces and nephews. I extended multiple holiday invitations, but he’d say, “I want to spend time with the girls (nuns). I’ve known many for 50 years; they’re good cooks. Can you understand?”
Later when he handed me his business card, I saw his title Monsignor Janacek. He shrugged, “Balty – really.” Balty was the “jolly” man who arrived with his peace sign.
One Sunday, Balty asked my husband and me to lunch. He asked me what I needed to CART for the Deaf. (CART is communication access realtime translation. I used my equipment writing to a large screen with instant translation for the Deaf mass.) Andre did not hesitate, “Her equipment is seven years older since she began to volunteer. She has wear and tear on her equipment.”
I blinked, immediately swallowing warm Black Eyed Pea cornbread. Balty smiled, “How much would it cost for the church to purchase new equipment? Monette, could you use our equipment?”
Balty and Andre wrote numbers on paper napkins as I watched. Then Balty turned to me, “How about $10,000? Would that work, Monette? The Christopher Columbus Society is having their spaghetti dinner. I’ll ask them.” Lunch was wonderful, and we never ventured back to the topic as we laughed and enjoyed our time together that sunny day.
Church members were accustomed to me rushing up aisles 15 minutes before our Deaf mass. To prep equipment, I darted around people praying, families posing for pictures after baptisms and other church events. Parents and parishioners prevented small children from playing with my equipment, understanding my frantic movements each Sunday.
Soon Balty called, “They agreed!” This event is famous. Politicians and judges arrive to shake hands. Spaghetti is homemade and all you can eat. I attended and was thanked by lines of volunteers serving family recipes. Balty waved at me as I stood in line and then sat at the long table eating my spaghetti. He was busy laughing and listening and enjoying the event.
Balty purchased all my hardware and court reporting software. I prepared paperwork; he cut checks. We were a good team, and Deaf were thrilled everyone supported their community.
I have wonderful memories of Balty. I fondly remember when Balty casually commented that women should have rights to become priests. (His predecessor preferred Latin masses and fasting.)
I paused before stroking “those” words. Parishioners paused, too – looking to my large screen, narrowing their eyes. My hands poised above my steno keyboard, Balty looked at me and slowly nodded.
As I realtimed his words, Balty paused, too. After a long silence, people coughed, looked to one another, and then looked up to my (large) screen at the (large) all upper cap text. Then, small groups stood and ever so slowly side-stepped to the center aisle. They gave him one slow final look before each quietly and politely exiting the church that morning.
Later I teased Balty, “Well, you won’t be seeing the front of their faces any time soon. Before you arrived, standing room only – now – wide open spaces.” He smiled, eyes soft.
I phoned Balty when remarkable events occurred. I was honored how he shared his life – on and off the record. I became protective of Balty as he detailed his world, expanding mine.
In 2000, I moved away from San Antonio. (I returned 2002.) The National Court Reporters Association's, NCRA, 2001 mid-year was in San Antonio, so when I flew in, I went to my room and immediately called Balty, “I’m up the road.” Balty instantly recognized my voice, “Monette, hi; I’ll hurry this wedding rehearsal and be right there!”
The hotel lobby had open seating. He ordered “two glasses of your finest wine.” He raised his glass and began singing to me. Balty had a deep melodic voice; he sang in Spanish. (He did not lower his voice; crystal wine glass held high, he sang.) Stunned, I watched others watch me before I relaxed, listening. When Balty finished, he raised his glass higher and toasted me.
I whispered, “I don’t understand what you just sang. It sounded beautiful.”
Balty laughed, “Monette, I sang a love song to you.” I blinked hard. Balty smiled, “I sang this song to thank you for all you’ve done. I sang so you will always remember this moment.”
As we dined, court reporters trolled and stopped to chat at our table. (Balty wore a solid black shirt. I watched Balty remove his white collar the moment he entered the hotel. I teased him about being off-duty.) Bill Weber was incoming NCRA president. His board of directors had driven into the Hill Country to film a movie for his induction. I proudly introduced directors, many wearing country overalls, to “the man who raised $10,000 with spaghetti to purchase CART equipment.” Every court reporter thanked him. Oh, how Balty laughed and smiled. His eyes twinkled, and he enjoyed every moment.
Hours later, court reporters stood at the elevators waving good-bye to my friend.
Balty waved – waiting for me to get into an elevator. I waved – waiting for him to leave. And we met more people at those elevators. He and I waited for the other to turn; neither wanted the evening to end. We spent hours at the elevators talking, laughing and having great fun as I introduced Balty to many friends. Court reporters still comment on that moment when they see me.
When diagnosed with leukemia, Balty was optimistic. I’d phone his private cell phone; he’d answer, “Hi, Moe-net!” I could hear Spanish in the background, and he was frequently in a south-side clinic “waiting to be seen.” Once I joked that he’d spent more than 50 years visiting hospitals – perhaps he could get an appointment. Softly Balty said, “Monette, I’m with my people; this is where I want to be.”
I encouraged Balty to record his memoirs. I wanted one tape for the church and another detailed version for his family, describing historic, momentous events he transformed. I teased him that he should have a glass of red wine and sit and talk. I knew his family would want these tapes.
We kept in touch as Balty rounded the last corner of his life. I would phone his cell phone, and we would laugh and listen to the other. I had his name on my to-call list. Each Monday, I put his name on my list.
His last Sunday, April 30, 2007, I had phone in hand dialing his number when I was distracted to a family moment. I put the phone down; his name was on my list.
I did not know Balty recently left his archdiocese apartment. Alone, he checked into hospice. I did not know he had few visitors. That Sunday he “snuck out to a Mexican restaurant with family; nuns looked the other way.” He watched Spurs basketball on TV – they won.
Monsignor Balthasar Janacek died that night at 80 years of age. I learned from his family, “When the nurse checked on him at 3 a.m., he was cold, talking in Czech. A little while later he was speaking in English to his mother. He said, ‘Mom, I don't think I am going to make it.’”
Balty’s card remains in my wallet. I haven’t been able remove it. I now live with mindful regrets that I’ll never be able to write his name on another call list. Oh, he was proud of us, our skills, how we help people. Balty was our biggest fan.
I want you to know this about Balty. He was special to so many people, and I know Balty Janacek will greet his family, friends and strangers with a peace sign, kind words, laughter and song.
Monette Benoit may be reached at: Tutoring@CRRbooks.com
About the Author:
Monette Benoit, B.B.A., CCR, CRI, CPE, is a JCR Contributing Editor for the National Court Reporters Association, NCRA.
She is the author of multiple books to include the NCRA Written Knowledge Test and state RPR, RMR, RDR, CSR ‘Written Knowledge Exam’ Textbook, Workbook, companion Study Guide, ‘The CRRT WKT’ CD Software Program, 'Advanced SAT, LSAT, GRE, Real-Time Vocabulary Workbook' and CATapult Dictionary CD Software Program series.
Books, CDs, private tutoring, mentoring services and articles may be referenced http://www.crrbooks.com/. Monette Benoit may be reached at: Tutoring@CRRbooks.com
Monette is an experienced consultant, instructor, realtime court reporter, tutor, CART provider, columnist. She teaches, tutors and coaches home-study students, college students, court reporters and professionals.
Monette speaks to groups at state, national and international conventions about motivation, technology, expanding skills and Deaf, Oral Deaf, Hard of Hearing.
Monette Benoit, B.B.A., Certified Court Reporter, Certified Reporting Instructor, Certified Program Evaluator, Paralegal, Columnist, may be reached at: http://www.crrbooks.com/ http://www.catapultdix.com/ and http://www.artcs.com/
CART And The $10,000 Spaghetti Dinner
By Monette Benoit
Copyright 2007 by Monette Benoit, All Rights Reserved.
The CART community and all court reporters lost a devoted friend on April 30th, 2007. My life and our profession were improved by this gentleman.
I had been CARTing San Antonio’s St. Francis Di Paola Deaf Mass for many years. One Sunday morning before a mass, privately a new priest introduced himself, spelling his name B-a-l-t-y. He waited to shake my hand, then walked to the altar, and introduced himself to the Deaf community, “I’m the new priest and will learn sign.” We welcomed him with deaf applause.
Balty was proud of his Czech background. He had a deep love of cultures and languages. He often spoke Spanish while I realtimed - writing verbatim text projected to a large screen on the altar from my steno machine. I’d sigh; he’d smile and then translate.
As we became friends, I learned Balty was ordained in 1950. Serving multiple roles he was devoted to causes close to his heart. Balty remained involved with Native Americans and tirelessly worked to mediate retrieval of their remains, bones, from the University of Texas at San Antonio, UTSA. I am not surprised that he donated his body to UTSA.
Balty was parochial vicar at San Fernando Cathedral (where Davy Crockett is buried). Since 1967, he was director of four 18th-century Old Spanish Missions for the Archdiocese (the active parishes of Concepcion, San Jose, San Juan, and Espada Missions). Balty established the San Antonio Mission National Historical Park and a historic cooperative agreement with the National Park Service, which the NPS is working to model around the United States.
His picture was in our newspaper so often that I’d phone Balty teasing him that he was my “Where’s Waldo?” Balty was absolutely devoted to his extended family, organizing Schulenburg, Texas, reunions with nieces and nephews. I extended multiple holiday invitations, but he’d say, “I want to spend time with the girls (nuns). I’ve known many for 50 years; they’re good cooks. Can you understand?”
Later when he handed me his business card, I saw his title Monsignor Janacek. He shrugged, “Balty – really.” Balty was the “jolly” man who arrived with his peace sign.
One Sunday, Balty asked my husband and me to lunch. He asked me what I needed to CART for the Deaf. (CART is communication access realtime translation. I used my equipment writing to a large screen with instant translation for the Deaf mass.) Andre did not hesitate, “Her equipment is seven years older since she began to volunteer. She has wear and tear on her equipment.”
I blinked, immediately swallowing warm Black Eyed Pea cornbread. Balty smiled, “How much would it cost for the church to purchase new equipment? Monette, could you use our equipment?”
Balty and Andre wrote numbers on paper napkins as I watched. Then Balty turned to me, “How about $10,000? Would that work, Monette? The Christopher Columbus Society is having their spaghetti dinner. I’ll ask them.” Lunch was wonderful, and we never ventured back to the topic as we laughed and enjoyed our time together that sunny day.
Church members were accustomed to me rushing up aisles 15 minutes before our Deaf mass. To prep equipment, I darted around people praying, families posing for pictures after baptisms and other church events. Parents and parishioners prevented small children from playing with my equipment, understanding my frantic movements each Sunday.
Soon Balty called, “They agreed!” This event is famous. Politicians and judges arrive to shake hands. Spaghetti is homemade and all you can eat. I attended and was thanked by lines of volunteers serving family recipes. Balty waved at me as I stood in line and then sat at the long table eating my spaghetti. He was busy laughing and listening and enjoying the event.
Balty purchased all my hardware and court reporting software. I prepared paperwork; he cut checks. We were a good team, and Deaf were thrilled everyone supported their community.
I have wonderful memories of Balty. I fondly remember when Balty casually commented that women should have rights to become priests. (His predecessor preferred Latin masses and fasting.)
I paused before stroking “those” words. Parishioners paused, too – looking to my large screen, narrowing their eyes. My hands poised above my steno keyboard, Balty looked at me and slowly nodded.
As I realtimed his words, Balty paused, too. After a long silence, people coughed, looked to one another, and then looked up to my (large) screen at the (large) all upper cap text. Then, small groups stood and ever so slowly side-stepped to the center aisle. They gave him one slow final look before each quietly and politely exiting the church that morning.
Later I teased Balty, “Well, you won’t be seeing the front of their faces any time soon. Before you arrived, standing room only – now – wide open spaces.” He smiled, eyes soft.
I phoned Balty when remarkable events occurred. I was honored how he shared his life – on and off the record. I became protective of Balty as he detailed his world, expanding mine.
In 2000, I moved away from San Antonio. (I returned 2002.) The National Court Reporters Association's, NCRA, 2001 mid-year was in San Antonio, so when I flew in, I went to my room and immediately called Balty, “I’m up the road.” Balty instantly recognized my voice, “Monette, hi; I’ll hurry this wedding rehearsal and be right there!”
The hotel lobby had open seating. He ordered “two glasses of your finest wine.” He raised his glass and began singing to me. Balty had a deep melodic voice; he sang in Spanish. (He did not lower his voice; crystal wine glass held high, he sang.) Stunned, I watched others watch me before I relaxed, listening. When Balty finished, he raised his glass higher and toasted me.
I whispered, “I don’t understand what you just sang. It sounded beautiful.”
Balty laughed, “Monette, I sang a love song to you.” I blinked hard. Balty smiled, “I sang this song to thank you for all you’ve done. I sang so you will always remember this moment.”
As we dined, court reporters trolled and stopped to chat at our table. (Balty wore a solid black shirt. I watched Balty remove his white collar the moment he entered the hotel. I teased him about being off-duty.) Bill Weber was incoming NCRA president. His board of directors had driven into the Hill Country to film a movie for his induction. I proudly introduced directors, many wearing country overalls, to “the man who raised $10,000 with spaghetti to purchase CART equipment.” Every court reporter thanked him. Oh, how Balty laughed and smiled. His eyes twinkled, and he enjoyed every moment.
Hours later, court reporters stood at the elevators waving good-bye to my friend.
Balty waved – waiting for me to get into an elevator. I waved – waiting for him to leave. And we met more people at those elevators. He and I waited for the other to turn; neither wanted the evening to end. We spent hours at the elevators talking, laughing and having great fun as I introduced Balty to many friends. Court reporters still comment on that moment when they see me.
When diagnosed with leukemia, Balty was optimistic. I’d phone his private cell phone; he’d answer, “Hi, Moe-net!” I could hear Spanish in the background, and he was frequently in a south-side clinic “waiting to be seen.” Once I joked that he’d spent more than 50 years visiting hospitals – perhaps he could get an appointment. Softly Balty said, “Monette, I’m with my people; this is where I want to be.”
I encouraged Balty to record his memoirs. I wanted one tape for the church and another detailed version for his family, describing historic, momentous events he transformed. I teased him that he should have a glass of red wine and sit and talk. I knew his family would want these tapes.
We kept in touch as Balty rounded the last corner of his life. I would phone his cell phone, and we would laugh and listen to the other. I had his name on my to-call list. Each Monday, I put his name on my list.
His last Sunday, April 30, 2007, I had phone in hand dialing his number when I was distracted to a family moment. I put the phone down; his name was on my list.
I did not know Balty recently left his archdiocese apartment. Alone, he checked into hospice. I did not know he had few visitors. That Sunday he “snuck out to a Mexican restaurant with family; nuns looked the other way.” He watched Spurs basketball on TV – they won.
Monsignor Balthasar Janacek died that night at 80 years of age. I learned from his family, “When the nurse checked on him at 3 a.m., he was cold, talking in Czech. A little while later he was speaking in English to his mother. He said, ‘Mom, I don't think I am going to make it.’”
Balty’s card remains in my wallet. I haven’t been able remove it. I now live with mindful regrets that I’ll never be able to write his name on another call list. Oh, he was proud of us, our skills, how we help people. Balty was our biggest fan.
I want you to know this about Balty. He was special to so many people, and I know Balty Janacek will greet his family, friends and strangers with a peace sign, kind words, laughter and song.
Monette Benoit may be reached at: Tutoring@CRRbooks.com
About the Author:
Monette Benoit, B.B.A., CCR, CRI, CPE, is a JCR Contributing Editor for the National Court Reporters Association, NCRA.
She is the author of multiple books to include the NCRA Written Knowledge Test and state RPR, RMR, RDR, CSR ‘Written Knowledge Exam’ Textbook, Workbook, companion Study Guide, ‘The CRRT WKT’ CD Software Program, 'Advanced SAT, LSAT, GRE, Real-Time Vocabulary Workbook' and CATapult Dictionary CD Software Program series.
Books, CDs, private tutoring, mentoring services and articles may be referenced http://www.crrbooks.com/. Monette Benoit may be reached at: Tutoring@CRRbooks.com
Monette is an experienced consultant, instructor, realtime court reporter, tutor, CART provider, columnist. She teaches, tutors and coaches home-study students, college students, court reporters and professionals.
Monette speaks to groups at state, national and international conventions about motivation, technology, expanding skills and Deaf, Oral Deaf, Hard of Hearing.
Monette Benoit, B.B.A., Certified Court Reporter, Certified Reporting Instructor, Certified Program Evaluator, Paralegal, Columnist, may be reached at: http://www.crrbooks.com/ http://www.catapultdix.com/ and http://www.artcs.com/
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
