A nonprofit suffers

One of the great things about the newsroom at The San Diego Union-Tribune is a quirky little coffee bar that offers a dozen types of quality joe, every brand of decent candy ever produced (I've even seen some Big Hunks in there) and a handful of other journalist delights, including Famous Amos cookies, Bazooka Joe bubble gum and even a few varieties of granola bars. Snugged tightly in a room the size of a La Jolla walk-in closet, the coffee bar attracts not only reporters, editors and news assistants, but advertising reps from the second floor, human resources personnel from the bowels of the building and accountants and editorial writers from the fourth floor. There have even been sightings of U-T CEO Gene Bell.

Since it began, all profits generated from the sales - $230,000 to date, including $18,000 last year - have gone to the local chapter of Meals on Wheels. No one profits from this but the elderly. But with the pending buyouts of 25 staffers from the newsroom, there are fears the operation may have seen its last hurrah. The person responsible for managing the little bistro, for making sure the bills get paid and donations sent to Meals, is leaving. Medical writer Cheryl Clark, who comes in on weekends to stock up on coffee, pretzels, potato chips and biscotti, is gone Sept. 30.

The effort started out simply enough in 1990, I'm told, with the convergence of the newsroom's insatiable desire for coffee and the fleeting popularity of the television series Twin Peaks among a handful of dedicated staffers. In the early days, the bar consisted of nothing more than a coffee pot on a desk near the editor's office. But that pot soon multiplied, and before long, munchies were being offered - I hear cherry pie was the tipping point - for a price. When organizers realized they were turning a profit on the endeavor, they had a dilemma on their hands: What to do with the money.

Being fans of Twin Peaks, they asked themselves: What would Laura Palmer do? There was only one answer: Give the money to Meals on Wheels.

The effort grew. Profits rose like the price of stock in a dot.com company. A couple years later, when space became available for a real coffee bar in a small room with a sink, the Meals on Wheels effort had hit the big time.

Several people have kept the coffee bar going over the years, but none has been more instrumental than Cheryl. When the cash stops flowing but the coffee keeps going, she gets on folks to ante up. On more than a few hundred occasions, she's floated coffee and snacks on her own credit cards until she could recoup the cash by laying out a guilt trip a Jewish mother would be proud of.

Cheryl is leaving, and uncertainty about the future of the coffee bar permeates the third floor. A notice went up this morning promising the bar will be closed only for a facelift. It's unclear, however, who would oversee the operation, and the offerings won't be nearly as ample as in the past.