In early summer 1977, Cary Spivak answered his phone in the Northern Star newsroom.

“Have you heard about the accident?” a familiar voice asked.

No.

“It involves an NIU official.”

We have a lot of officials here. How high up?

“The highest.”

The caller – whom Spivak to this day hasn’t publicly identified – didn’t offer much more. But in the coming weeks, Spivak and the Star pieced the story together: NIU President Richard Nelson had sideswiped a 21-year-old student riding her bicycle along Sycamore Road, injuring her slightly. He got out of his car and asked if she was OK. When a witness said he’d called an ambulance, Nelson got back into his car and drove away. But at least one person had recognized him. NIU police had paid Nelson a visit later that evening, but city police quickly closed the case.

Spivak’s reporting – including how Nelson had his university-owned car repainted soon after the accident, and how he hadn’t even had a driver’s license since 1967 – led the state’s attorney to reopen the case. Eventually, Nelson was indicted and convicted for leaving the scene of an accident. In January 1978, he resigned as NIU president – all because of a story that at first had seemed too incredible to be true, even in the post-Watergate era.

“Cary was not afraid to ask hard questions of anybody,” former Star adviser Jerry Thompson said. “He was skeptical of glib and quick answers, especially from people in positions of power. He was very skeptical – just like you want to good reporter to be.”

After NIU, Spivak worked for the Rockford Register Star, Milwaukee Business Journal and United Press International, before joining the pre-merger Milwaukee Sentinel in 1987 to cover business and gambling. Today, for the Journal Sentinel, Spivak and Dan Bice write an award-winning investigative column that exposes political and business corruption in Wisconsin. Milwaukee Magazine characterized Spivak – “a sloppy, glad-handing Chicago native” – as two parts Oscar Madison, one part Columbo.

And one part Dad. Spivak and his wife, Liz, have five kids, ages 5 to 19. That may have softened him away from work, but on the job he can’t see himself doing anything other than hard news.

“My fear about writing features has always been that I’ll make a guy look really good and then a week later he’s indicted.”