Originally appeared in The News & Observer:
Thirty-one newsroom colleagues are leaving today. That's a number those of us remaining can't even process really, especially when you add in the number of those we've lost already in earlier rounds of job cuts.
Used to be when a news staffer left, there'd be cake in the newsroom, a few kind words - or many kind words if that someone had been here a decade or two - words that included a recognition of the appreciated contributions.
As far as I know, there's no cake today. And I don't know whether there will be any words at all. Because finding any that are a comfort at this point is nearly impossible.
Sitting where I do, as the gatekeeper to the letters to The N&O, I've read plenty now from people downright gleeful about the "demise" of The N&O. I'm not sure why some people still don't understand that many newspapers, The N&O included, are doing just fine circulation-wise, thanks. It's the toilet-swirling advertising revenues and the amount of debt our parent company holds that have brought us to this incredibly rotten day at The N&O.
Good people and amazingly talented journalists, not agenda-pushing liberal demons, are headed out into the unknown - many of them unknown to you, the reader, but integral parts of what you see.
These are people who felt a calling, much like nurses and doctors and teachers, who do their jobs not for the money (heaven knows) but for the public, for you and for themselves, because they understand the critical role a newspaper plays in our democracy. Many of them toiled at night - till midnight, 1 or 2 a.m. - for years and years to bring you a morning paper.
There's Moe, whose name you've seen only in 7-point type under some graphics, but who among 1,000 various graphic-related things makes sure your weather map and all its various parts are in your paper correctly. There is not a kinder, steadier, more unflappable, knowledgeable person at this newspaper. In my 22 years here, I have never seen the man angry, and that's saying something.
There's Van, who would be in a tight race with Moe for steadiest and kindest. Van, who always believes the best of people, who sees them with only good intentions. As an editor, Van is the person in the building who always, above everyone else, put the reader first. You've lost your best advocate.
And Lou, one of the best headline writers we have here. If you've seen an excellent headline on a Durham-datelined story, chances are it was written by Lou or Bill, both lost in the last round of buyouts.
And Josee and Laurie, hard-working, creative and smart moms working part-time on the Copy Desk. We lost every part-timer, which only diminishes our diversity of backgrounds and life experiences.
And Winston, who as the Night Editor for years and years trained innumerable young reporters who always seemed to start on the cops beat and reported to Winston. I can't imagine there's anyone else here who has had a larger hand in training up the cubs in the ways they should go.
And Rob and Eileen, who came with a wave of California folk in the mid-90s who wanted to call our front page "the cover" (heresy!) but whom you had to forgive for it when you discovered what amazing journalists they were. It would be hard to count the number of 75-word New York Times sentences that Eileen has saved you from over her years here as a copy editor.
And Ned, whom I haven't really ever worked with but whom I have heard called at least 20 times since we heard he'd be leaving "the best newspaper editor The N&O has ever had."
There's Jane, who with grace and enthusiasm always was willing to take on a new role for the good of the whole.
And Peder, of course, who was able to tell you goodbye in one more excellent Sunday column. Peder, my fellow conservative-leaning colleague who never shied away from coming to debate the issues with the Editorial Department, a healthy thing for any newspaper. We had already been forced to mourn the passing of his brilliant book columns; now we must mourn the death of Peder's ideas among our pages.
And there's Wade and Joe and Joyce and Marti and Bonnie and Becky and Colline and Paul and the many others who were holding up their ends of our daily offering.
Tomorrow, when this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day is over, the rest of us at this amazingly wonderful newspaper will carry on with the calling, but with holes in our hearts.
No comments:
Post a Comment