Monday morning quarterback

When you spend nearly 30 years in the same career and countless hours in newsroom meetings, it's easy to lose touch with the real world, with real people with real challenges.

At a party last night, I was the only journalist in a rather large group, an object of curiosity among people who had heard about, but were certainly disconnected to, the upheaval reporters, editors and publishers are enduring during these troubled economic times. I got a lot of questions about where we were heading, and I offered my views about the lack of leadership in an industry that is doing a horrible job marketing itself and running from its strengths. But the most fascinating - and somewhat depressing - discussions I had were with two mathematicians, trained engineers working for competing companies in Rancho Bernardo.

Both are highly intelligent, both have earned masters degrees in mathematics, and both have ample background in engineering and physics. One works for General Atomics, which describes itself as a firm that "offers research, development and consulting services to the nuclear industry, including nuclear energy production, defense and related applications." His counterpart works for Northrup Grumman, which describes itself as "a global defense and technology company whose 120,000 employees provide innovative systems, products, and solutions in information and services, electronics, aerospace and shipbuilding to government and commercial customers worldwide."

Pretty heady stuff. Both have paid their dues, certainly. One served several years in the Navy before putting himself through UC San Diego, living on Macaroni and Cheese dinners before his breakthrough at Northrup Grumman.

And for both, the recession, the fall of newspapers and the hatchet job the current administration has done to our economy is more of an abstract. It doesn't really affect them, for their businesses are booming. With billions of dollars in government contracts, the last thing on their mind is job security.

As I listened to them describe the projects they were working on, including a laser based satellite system in its research and development stage, I felt, quite honestly, like an idiot. They deal with mathematical equations; I deal with whether there are too many commas in a sentence. They deal with developing systems that could ensure our very survival. I deal with Christmas tree recycling lists.

Am I being hard on myself? Certainly. But last night, for the first time in a long time, I began to wonder if I made the right career choice.

Hope springs eternal

As noted earlier, Sharon Heilbrunn will be leaving the Union-Tribune, and Friday is her last day. It's going to be a huge loss for the paper, and especially our readers. With Sharon's permission, I'm reprinting a note she sent to a group of current and former staffers.




At the end of this week, I will leave the U-T -- where I've worked since 2005, most recently as a general assignment Metro Staff Writer -- for a yearlong multimedia fellowship with KPBS, where I will learn to produce and report news across all platforms, including radio, television and online.

People thought the decision was an easy one. After all, the paper is/isn't being sold, print media is in trouble, multimedia is the way to go, etc. etc. etc.

But the truth is, it was an extremely hard choice. Let me explain why.

(First, some perspective: I'm under 30, I'm a journalism rookie, and I don't know a lot about the "old days.")

Here's the deal -- I love what I do. I know that's a cliche, but it's worth repeating. I'm under 30, and I love what I do. I know about the troubles of print journalism, but I think it's extremely vital to keep in mind that people in this industry still love what they do. Young people. Old people. Rookies. Veterans. I don't think that will die. We might not always love the way we're asked to do it, but the root of it -- reporting, telling stories, uncovering facts -- that, we love. I get to talk to people, to experience things, to figure out how to take a jumbled mess of notes and weave it into something measurable, something interesting. I still feel an adrenalin rush when I see my byline in the newspaper.

I didn't always love this. In fact, it took several editors and reporters to believe in me before I started loving what I do. Which brings me to my next point.

I love who I work with. (I have lots of love.)

My desk in the Mission Valley building faces editor Karin Winner's office, across from the long conference room. I know exactly where to walk to satiate my mood. If I need a little laugh, I'll turn around and head to the Sports Dept. to talk to the people over there for a while. There's always something quirky happening in that area. (Plus, they always have food.) If I want a little friendly conversation, I'll march over to the folks at the Photo Desk and SignOn, who always humor my "whatcha doing" questions when I need to clear my head. And If I just want to feel like I am part of something much bigger than myself, I'll sit at my desk and simply listen. Behind me, Jeff McDonald and Michael Stetz are engaged in a friendly banter. Across from me, Helen Gao is kicking butt, asking sources the kind of questions that make them sweat. And if I look to my right, my editor, David Ogul, is complaining about something and asking where my story is and eating M&M's by the handful.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

And when I sit with Mr. Ogul to edit one of my stories, I always get that same excited feeling when we finally file. I'm lucky, fortunate to have worked with such a fine editor, who took the time to not only nurture my writing and my hunger to stretch as a reporter, but also to get to know me and support my efforts. Alexa Capeloto, my former editor, did the same. I thank them, as well as the other gifted editors I've worked with at the U-T, who all have contributed to my growth.

The U-T is full of extremely talented people. I stand by that, because I've seen it and felt it and am proud to know it. Yes, it isn't perfect. But if I just take my little bubble and I look back on the last three years, (and especially the last six months), I'd like to believe that in my immediate surroundings -- when it's just me, the reporters around me and some fine editors doing our jobs -- the environment is much like it was 15, 20 years ago. Witty comments are still made. Hilarious stories are told. Reporters still look out for other reporters and lend a helping hand when necessary. We ask how their families are. We rally around a sick colleague as if it we were rallying around our 80-year old grandma. We look out for our own. We support one another. And we continue to love what we do.

I don't know much. I'm young, I'm sure many will think I'm naive, and yes, I probably am. A bit idealistic, I'm sure. But I do know that when I go to pack up my desk this week, it won't be without its share of sadness for what I am about to leave.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, even with its troubles, journalism still has its followers. The relationships and camaraderie built in newsrooms, that can only be cultivated by people who understand what it's like in the trenches, still inspire fledgling reporters. Young people are still attracted to the craft. Soon, it might not exist the way we know it, but I guess there has to be some kind of hope for an industry that still churns out people who love what they do.

The Ice Man Cometh

I was talking to a few friends today while on my daily run and the conversation quickly turned to ruminations about how long The Union-Tribune would continue to be a newspaper. One person said 3 years. Another said 5 or 10. Always the optimist, I said it would last as a newspaper for at least 20, and probably longer. Which got me to wondering: What do other folks in the business, or who have left the business, or who are contemplating entering the business, think about the future of newspapers? Send your thoughts to ogul59@hotmail.com and I'll post them in my next blog.

The Day After

Wow. What a week. E.W. Scripps announces it's putting the Rocky Mountain News up for sale (amid rumors it might shut the paper down), the Detroit News and Detroit Free Press are talking about cutting home delivery to three days a week and the Tribune Co. files for bankruptcy. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, employees of the Copley Press, owners of The San Diego Union-Tribune, are told contributions to the company's pension plan will cease Jan. 31. The latest development comes after the announcement that an editor and reporter are leaving the paper, yielding yet two more vacant desks in a newsroom some have likened to a scene in The Day After.

And we still don't know when we're going to hit bottom.

As for me, I'm popping open another bottle of Cabernet (Greg Norman, North Coast, 2006 - in case anyone's wondering what to get me for the holidays) and hoping this will all go away in the morning.

Resin up the bow

While I resin up the bow for Nearer, My God, to Thee, others are jumping onto the lifeboats. Last week it was Assistant Metro Editor Dani Dodge. Today, it was reporter Sharon Heilbrunn. It's hard to tell which hit is harder, but neither loss is easy to endure.

Dani came to the Union-Tribune a few years ago with a reputation as a spunky reporter from Ventura. It didn't take long for her to leave an impression in our newsroom. About a week after she got here, she headed to Mexico for a front-page feature on road racing in Baja. She also did some notable work under less-than-ideal conditions in Louisiana after Hurricane Katrina struck New Orleans before settling in as a downtown San Diego reporter. It was during her days as a downtown reporter that Dani worked with me, which is enough to drive anyone crazy. Instead, she thrived. A short time later, Dani was an editor, always willing to toil on the days others tried to avoid and never hesitant to take on a challenging assignment.

She's going to the San Diego Zoological Society and will most likely soon become the next Joan Embry.

Sharon, who also worked with me (maybe there's a connection here?), also came to us a few years ago, but as a news assistant with a bachelor's degree from San Diego State University. She worked in El Cajon under the tutelage of Assistant Metro Editor and rising star Alexa Capeloto and managed to get more than a few bylines in the paper. Sufficiently impressed, management promoted her to the rank of reporter just a few months ago, working for yours truly, where she continued to shine.

Sharon is a newspaper publisher's best friend. She's young, doesn't earn anywhere near enough to break the bank, but she produces, has all sorts of skills, and has pretty much mastered much of the new media that is threatening the very existence of many newspapers. She also loves her job and is a fine writer.

Sharon is taking a gig with KPBS in San Diego, where she'll learn even more about new media, radio and television under a grant underwritten by a nonprofit.

Unfortunately, Sharon and Dani won't be the last to leave. And if this keeps up, I may end up playing for an empty deck aboard the Titanic.

Go Cubs!

I'm no financial expert, but this would seem to rule out Sam Zell as a potential new owner of The San Diego Union-Tribune.

The New York Times (Dec. 7, 2008)
Tribune has hired bankruptcy advisers as the ailing newspaper company faces a potential bankruptcy filing, people briefed on the matter said.

The newspaper, which was taken private last year by billionaire investor Samuel Zell, has hired advisers including Lazard and Sidley Austin, one of its longtime law firms, these people said. Tribune has been hobbled by debt related to that sale last year, which has been compounded by the growing drought of advertising for newspapers.

It is only the latest — and biggest — sign of duress for the newspaper industry yet. Several newspaper companies have struggled to cope with declining revenues and mounting debt woes. Tribune has pared back the newsrooms of many of its papers, including The Chicago Tribune, The Los Angeles Times and The Baltimore Sun, and it sold off Newsday to Cablevision’s Dolan family earlier this year.

While Tribune must contend with hefty interest payments over the next year, its most pressing problem is a maintenance covenant on some of its debt that limits the company’s borrowings to no more than nine times earnings before interest, depreciation and amortization.

Even if the company continues to make interest payments, failure to maintain that level of debt means technical default — which does not always lead to a bankruptcy filing. Other newspaper publishers have halted making interest payments on their debt, but have yet to file.

Tribune has sought to ameliorate its woes by selling off assets like the Chicago Cubs, the company still faces a looming debt crunch. Tribune hired Lazard several weeks ago to assess its options, these people said. Sidley Austin is a longtime outside adviser to Tribune, and it has a well-respected bankruptcy practice as well.

–Michael J. de la Merced, Richard Pérez-Peña and Andrew Ross Sorkin

The Overlook Hotel

Often forgotten among the additional stress, additional work and additional drinking that go hand in hand with smaller, "more-with-less" staffs in a shrinking newsroom are the intangibles. Like the dearth of personality manifested through a lack of photographs.

You don't need a private detective to figure me out. Just look at the pictures and whatnot on my desk. That I'm a father of three who loves The Simpsons and going to baseball games across the country is obvious to any dolt who might happen by. The autographed photograph of Taj Mahal says something about my taste in blues. And the sheet music for Nearer, My God, to Thee, goes to the heart of my irreverance.

But there are a lot of empty desks in newsrooms these days, and on my worse days, it seems like our workplace is somewhat reminiscent of the Overlook Hotel. But instead of empty rooms and countless ghosts, we work in a venue with a whole lotta vacant desks -- and countless ghosts.

Those desks were occupied not long ago by people who had lives outside the newsroom. And those lives were reflected on the pictures and children's artwork that were plastered in their cubicles. I miss walking by Liz Fitzsimons' desk and seeing pictures of her beloved Natalie growing year by year. Or handpainted works of something or other from Miranda Barfield to her father, Chet, that underscored a daughter's undying love for her father. Or the smiling photos of Alex Roth shortly after he met a wonderful woman who would beccome his wife. Or the endless supply of almonds on Ray Kipp's desk, in an office surrounded by whimsical, um, art. Everyone has their little space, and how each person decorated that space, from Terry Rodgers to Cheryl Clark to Mark Sauer and Ruth McKinnie Braun, told you something about them.

I really miss that.

Listen to this...

Sometimes it's better to let others tell it like it is. Like David Carr, who wrote this in The New York Times today...

By DAVID CARR
Published: November 16, 2008
In March 2007, Circuit City came up with a plan to confront softening sales and competition from online and offline retailers: fire the most talented, experienced employees.

Of course, those workers were the retail chain’s single most important point of difference from the legion of Internet retailers and general merchandisers, but in a single stroke, Philip J. Schoonover, the chief executive of Circuit City, wiped out that future.

As a pal of mine used to say when I described a particularly boneheaded course of action I had pursued, “How’d that work out for you, buddy?”

For Circuit City, not so great. The “wage management initiative” erased morale, both for employees and the folks who shopped there. Sales sank after the one-time gain from the layoffs. And last week, the company sought bankruptcy protection.

Mr. Schoonover joined his former employees in the discard box in September, a nice bit of symmetry until you factor in his $1.8 million in severance, $50,000 in outplacement services and a two-year cushion on health benefits. (The clerks axed in Wichita and Tucson got a bit less.)

In the digital age, we’re told, the critical difference between success and failure is human capital — those heartbeats and fast hands that can make a good business great. So are newspapers reacting to their downturn as Circuit City did?

Every day, Romenesko, a journalism blog at the Poynter Institute, is rife with news of layoffs at newspapers, most of the time featuring some important, trusted names. It is not the young fresh faces that are getting whacked — they come cheap — but the most experienced, proven people in the room, the equivalent of the sales clerk who could walk you through a thicket of widescreen television choices to the one that actually works for you.

Using clerks as an analogue may not be the most flattering comparison, but I have always thought of journalism as more craft than profession and tell students that it is the accumulation of experience and technique that makes a journalist valuable, not some ineffable beckoning of the muse.

Right now, the consumer has all manner of text to choose from on platforms that range from a cellphone to broadsheet. The critical point of difference journalism offers is that it can reduce the signal-to-noise ratio and provide trusted, branded information. That will be a business into the future, perhaps less paper-bound and smaller, but a very real business.

Newspapers, which began the race with a huge lead in terms of human assets, may end up just another part of the underinformed commodity of clutter.

“Circulation declines were deeper in the last period, and I have to say that I think it has to do with the quality problems from cuts,” said Ken Doctor, a media analyst at Outsell Inc., a market analysis firm. “It is not just the cutting, but the cutting of more-experienced staff, a kind of slow-motion suicide. Circuit City cut its own throat by not realizing what their competitive advantage is, and newspapers are doing the same thing.”

Last week, Media General, a company that owns newspapers, television stations and Web sites in the Southeast, eliminated 80 positions in Florida, including a prominent columnist and the editorial page editor at The Tampa Tribune. “The Book of Ruth,” a long-running wiseacre feature by the longtime columnist Dan Ruth, will be missed, now and then. He and the editorial page editor, Rosemary Goudreau, follow a political columnist, Joe Brown, the movie critic Bob Ross and the classical music critic Kurt Loft to the exit.

Readers, especially the ones cranky and serious enough to still be buying newspapers, have not missed the trend.

“Fire your best employees and watch your business go out of business, just like Circuit City is finding out right now. Who wants to read old news when one can find quality articles outside of the TampaTribe. Bye Bye TampaTrib, you have fired one too many of your excellent personnel and now I am firing you!” said a reader, Bob, in a comment posted to The Feed blog at TampaBay.com, a media blog by Eric Deggans, a media and television reporter at The St. Petersburg Times.

Yes, the revenue picture is grim and growing grimmer. The biggest outlay besides putting the printed artifact on the street is salaries. And journalists tend to get a lot more indignant when the sheet cake and goodbye speeches are being served up on behalf of people who have the same job as they have.

But there is a business argument to be made here. Having missed the implications of the Web and allowed both their content and their audience to be scraped away by aggregators and ad networks, newspapers are now working furiously to maintain audience, build new ad models and renovate presentation. But they won’t stay relevant to readers with generic content ginned up by newbies with no background in the communities they serve.

“Newspapers are aimed at the movers and shakers in a community — the car dealers, the retailers, the restaurant owners,” said Alan D. Mutter, a technology and media consultant who blogs at Reflections of a Newsosaur (www.newsosaur.blogspot.com). “When they get together and realize that they are looking at the paper, that it is less compelling than it used to be, it creates a vicious cycle of weaker readership and weaker advertising.”

Last week, Sam Zell, a one-man newspaper wrecking crew running the Tribune Company, was interviewed at the FourSquare conference, the annual conclave of media moguls put on by Steve Rattner. I was not there, but I spoke to two people — neither of them journalists — who listened and were appalled by his disregard for his newspapers, including The Chicago Tribune and The Los Angeles Times.

Based on my conversation with those attendees, Mr. Zell, who, through a spokesman, declined to comment, suggested that newsrooms were just so much overhead and that what was ailing the industry was overweening journalistic ambition. I’ve read Mr. Zell’s products since he took over. I’ve seen his handiwork, including laying off Lynell George at The Los Angeles Times and Jeffrey Meitrodt at The Chicago Tribune, just two of the many veterans I happen to know he has sacrificed on the altar of debt service.

Newspapers confront tall, menacing seas in the coming year, but it is a sure bet that the ones that dump the ablest hands on deck will be among the first to sink below the waves.

E-mail: carr@nytimes.com

What do I know?

The rumors have been swirling on the blogoshphere for weeks. Sam Zell. Dean Singleton. The Black Press. Those are but three of the suitors who are the imminent new owners of The San Diego Union-Tribune -- if you believe what you read in the media.

But the intensity of the talk, and the concern among people associated with the paper, has picked up in recent days, and the ongoing uncertainty has been more than a bit unsettling. The most persistent discussion is that someone has bought the paper and the sale will be announced on Friday. Then the ax will fall, and a whole lotta people will be laid off.

The fact that the country is suffering through what is arguably the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression doesn't give folks who eschewed the most recent round of buyouts much confidence.

Me? As Micky Sach's father says in Hannah and Her Sisters, `What do I know? I can't even figure out how to fix this damn can opener!'

But plug on I must. I'm getting paid a decent salary to help produce three sections of the paper and manage a team of six reporters and news assistants, not to speculate on something I cannot control. And I'm pretty damn proud of my work. Perhaps, in a few weeks, Sam Zell, Dean Singleton or some other schlub will conclude the paper could do just fine without me, thank you very much, but until then, I know of only one way: never cheat your employer.

It sounds corny, and it no doubt is, but my mother always said that whatever happens, happens for the best. She said it when I separated from my first wife, and I ended up later marrying someone I love and care about more than I could ever imagine. She said it when my Lakers got beat by an inferior Celtics team in the 1984 NBA Finals, and L.A came back with a vengeance the following season, beginning a run of three championships in four years. She said it when I screwed up on my SAT, and I ended up taking the ACT instead, ranking in top percentile in the country and getting accepted, honors at entrance, at every school I applied to.

So I'm sticking with the old Russian lady's sage advice, secure in the knowledge that whatever happens, happens for the best.

Nearer, My God, to Thee

One is an FBI agent investigating mortgage fraud and other financial crimes in Los Angeles. Another is in New York, an editor at ProPublica, a nonprofit newsroom that produces investigative journalism in the public interest. A third is going to graduate school at USC while working for that university's media relations department.

All are among the scores of reporters and editors who have left The San Diego Union-Tribune during the newspaper industry's unprecedented freefall.

Some of us are hanging on, determined to stay with the ship wherever it may lead. Others are determined to lead the ship back to profitable waters. And still others are desperately trying to find another line of work, something more secure in an insecure economy.

But the John Gilmores, Gerry Brauns, Anna Cearleys and Susan Whites of the U-T have already made their break, and are doing quite well, thank you.

John Gilmore, a longtime editor at the paper who had been here so long he was among those who covered the 1978 PSA plane crash over North Park, took a buyout two years ago. Old enough to get senior discounts on his lunches at Denny's and monthly passes on the San Diego Trolley (OK, he's 63!), John wasn't quite sure what to do when the initial buyout offer was made to those with 30 years of experience. But he had an idea.

"My intent at that time was to work with special education kids," John told me during a recent conversation. "I had some interviews and was going to go in that direction."

It would be a part-time job, but before it came to fruition, a more lucrative opportunity arose. He got a call from a former co-worker, who was heading the communications department at the Port of San Diego. She had been promoted and needed a replacement. Today, John is a communications manager for the Port, dealing with pesky reporters (some of whom he used to supervise), writing, developing a newsletter and engaging in some serious consulting work.

"It's been a great learning experience," he said. "I've been able to learn new things, I've been energized. It's a breath of fresh air."

And what about his previous life?

"I miss the people, and there have been occasions where I miss being in a newsroom. It's a stimulating experience...But seeing the direction of the business, I don't have any regrets.

Neither does Anna Cearley, former Border Team reporter extraordinaire.

"I think some people were surprised I took the buyout, but I had already been considering other options for about a year when I started to realize things were changing drastically in the newspaper industry. I saw a greater emphasis on multimedia, which I was starting to learn on my own and through the U-T, and less room in the paper for the kinds of explanatory border stories that I had been able to do in the past. Even if things had been going great in the news business, I still would have been restless. I had been doing the border crime beat for seven years and I was thinking it was time for a change, but I wasn't really interested in doing any other beat at the paper. Towards the end of 2007, I applied for a job with USC's media relations department and also applied for a graduate program at USC on the creation and management of online communities. Both of them seemed to be attractive opportunities to broaden my skill base and redirect my career under the current uncertain circumstances. When the buyout offer came up in December I realized that I had the money to go to graduate school and this seemed like a sign that I should take the leap. I ended up getting the USC job six months later."

She continued:

"In my job, I put a lot of my reporting skills to use. I look for possible story ideas in the areas of education and public policy based on the work of USC researchers. I either write these stories for our web site and/or pitch the ideas to reporters. I read research papers and try to convert them into "regular" English with a stronger emphasis on "why this is important." I work with faculty to encourage them to formulate ideas for editorials and to find ways to express their thoughts in a way that doesn't read like an academic paper."

In graduate school, she's working with two classmates to design a small social network site under the direction of a Yahoo! product management director. "I'm also learning a lot about the very forces that have contributed to the problems in the newspaper industry. I don't like all that is being done by the online world, but I see how important it will be for the media to embrace innovation in upcoming years."

Any regrets?

"Between work, school, blogging and family obligations I don't have much time to dwell on the past. I do feel sad for what's happening in the journalism industry. I think the profession is a noble one and it plays a vital role in making sure there are proper checks and balances in our system. To be totally honest, I loved my job at the Union-Tribune and appreciated greatly the opportunities the company gave me. Covering the border over the past seven years was a deeply satisfying time of my life."

The note about the profession being a noble one brings to mind what one departing editor said when she left, just before the buyouts and layoffs began. Karen Ristine noted she was leaving one calling, but embracing another: She's now a Methodist minister in Mission Valley.

Indeed, those who have left are doing quite well. Former metro reporter Liz Neely just landed a job as an investigator for a law firm. Former business reporter Craig Rose is working for City Attorney Mike Aguirre. Former columnist Gerry Braun is working for Mayor Jerry Sanders. Former reporters Chet Barfield and Mark Sauer are working for Councilwoman Donna Frye. Former North County reporter Lisa Petrillo is working at Children's Hospital. And the list go on.

As for me, I'm with the group determined to help lead this ship to more settled seas. And if the Titanic goes down, I have the sheet music to Nearer, My God, to Thee on my desk. I'll play the violin.

A parable

Jimmy Carter was midway through his first year as president, the Garvey-Lopes-Russell-and-Cey infield was entering its prime and our family was thriving. My sister, her husband, my brother and I lived in a Los Feliz apartment with my mom, and we couldn't be tighter. Each motivated another. We shared a vision for the future. Heck, we were even in the midst of an expansion - my sister was pregnant with her first child.

Almost as suddenly, it ended.

The first domino to fall was my sister and her husband. The economy was in the crapper and my brother-in-law had a job waiting for him in a Reno ski factory. Off they went, and suddenly, home seemed a bit emptier, like an office after a round of layoffs.

Laughter wasn't as easy to find.

The next to leave was my older brother, to law school in San Francisco. Suddenly, the leadership - the moral compass - was missing. And the office seemed emptier.

When I left for college in San Diego, only my mom and our dog remained in that old apartment from where the cacophony of one of Los Angeles's busiest streets was a constant.

With no one helping to cook the meals, wash the clothes or take the dog out for her daily walks, life for my mom became more of a series of daily chores. Much of the enjoyment of being in that apartment had gone.

Final words

Tomorrow marks the beginning of the Jewish new year, and Wednesday marks the end of Ramadan. At the Union-Tribune, tomorrow marks the end of 25 careers in journalism, and Wednesday marks the beginning of a new challenge for San Diego's daily newspaper.

Best to let those who are leaving say what's on their mind. Here are a few examples:

Jerry Magee, who has been with the paper for 52 years, wrote this piece in Sunday's paper.

Carol Goodhue, our reader's representative, penned a poignant final column that ran today.

And finally, this from religion and ethics writer Sandi Dolbee.

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.

empty shelves

Didn't seem like long ago when shelf space in the Union-Tribune newsroom was more difficult to find than an affordable flat in Manhattan. On the rare occasion when someone left the paper, reporters and editors would swoop in like vultures rushing to a corpse, slapping their business card on the vacated space, claiming it as their own. We even instituted a shelf-space protocol to ward against the bogarts - you know who you are - intent on monopolizing what was available.

No more. There's plenty of shelf space today. A veritable abundance of newsroom cabinetry. Nowadays, there's a run on boxes for the packrats who accepted the latest buyout offer to cart off the books, magazines and files that were stuffed into those shelves.

They arrive on the weekends, when it's quiet, when there won't be as many questions about their decision, when they can pack in peace, alone with their thoughts. And, suddenly, 20 years or more of reporting is gone from the newsroom. Decades more of institutional knowledge lost.

It may be a Pyrrhic victory, but I finally have some space to put my stuff.

The fallout

For those of you keeping score….Here’s the latest list of journalists leaving the Union-Tribune as we continue to downsize in these challenging times. Not all of these folks are taking the buyouts. One or two were retirements, a couple left for other jobs.


The entire D.C. bureau (Finlay Lewis, George Condon Jr.,Dana Wilkie, Paul Krawzak)
Sandi Dolbee
Jerry Magee
Kirk Kenney
Ellen Bevier
Carol Goodhue
Susan Gembrowski
Gerry Braun (he took a job with the Mayor's office)
Bruce Bigelow (he accepted another job days before the buyout offer)
Liz Neeley
Cheryl Clark
Terry Rodgers
Ruth McKinnie Braun
Ed Mendel
Ed Phillips
Phil Suda
Mary James
Mike Canepa
Scott Linnett
Valerie Scher
Beth Wood
Eddie Krueger
Jean Frasier
Steve Brand
Bill Ainsworth

Psycho

When Martin Balsam's Arbogast heads into the mysterious house overlooking the Bates Motel in Alfred Hitchcock's 1960 classic Psycho, you feel like screaming at him to turn around, sprint to his car and hightail it back to Phoenix. Nothing good is going to happen here.

It's the same feeling I sometimes get in working with young college interns who regularly arrive in our newsroom, each one of them every bit as inquisitive as Arbogast. I often find myself asking whether I should encourage them to turn around and hightail it back to their dorm instead of tutoring them on the finer points of reporting and writing.

I'm not the only one who feels that way.

"People who I don't even know walk by my desk and tell me to get out while I can," said one of this summer's crop of Union-Tribune interns, University of Chicago sophomore Rachel Cromidas.

But Rachel is not alone. Every summer, and often in the fall and spring, interns walk through our doors, determined to make it in an industry that many say is dying. Aren't they learning anything in college? Are they stupid or something?

"I don't see it as a dying industry," said Rebecca Go, who served as a metro intern in the spring of 2008 while finishing up her senior year at Point Loma Nazarene University. "I see it as a changing industry."

For those of us who have little hope, who wake up ready for another day, only to get a dose of reality from Romenesko, I introduce you to the future of journalism.

Say hello to Edgar Segura, Cal State Hayward.

"It's scary, sure, but there are a lot of possibilities."

Some of the possibilites are outside of the box. Take Adam Loberstein, a UC Davis student who spent the summer writing for the Union-Tribune's Currents section. If Adam never lands a paying newspaper job, he's sure to do quite well with his Web site . It's a Fantasy Baseball player's dream, a site that is siphoning revenue from local newspapers.

One former intern, who asked that she not be identified because of NPR policy, graduated with a bachelor's degree in political science for UCSD and a master's degree from the UC Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism. She was one of the better interns we had, writing several stories that landed on the cover of the metro section and a couple that earned their way onto A1.

After earning her master's, this young woman found a summer internship at The Dallas Morning News - just in time to witness one in a string of layoffs and buyouts.

"I got to see the staff eviscerated," she said matter-of-factly, like an experienced cops reporter talking about the latest homicide.

Our intrepid reporter returned to California, where she hoped to land a job with The Los Angeles Times. But they, too, were in slash-and-burn mode.

She didn't give up. She landed a job with NPR doing some freelance work. She's also writing for magazines and dabbling in other areas of journalism.

"I've managed to cobble together a decent living."

So how does she see the future? Was that master's from Berkeley worth the paper it's written on?

"We need newspapers," she said. "We need good journalists."

Rebecca agrees.

"It's quite scary that the industry is declining," said the staff writer at the San Diego Daily Transcript. "But I'm fairly optimistic. There's going to always be a need for journalism. It's changing. We may be going online, but the need will always be there."

Losing your voice

Respected as one of the best political reporters in San Diego County before he became one of the better newspaper columnists in the country, Gerry Braun walked into work this morning and notified his bosses at The San Diego Union-Tribune that he was leaving. Immediately. He wasn't taking a buyout, he was taking the initiative. He had a new job with the Mayor's office. Because of the inherent conflict with his column, Gerry left immediately.

When Gerry walked out out of the newsroom, the Union-Tribune lost its voice.

I've known Gerry for nearly three decades. One of my favorite Gerry memories came when he was covering the 1982 election in the old 43rd Congressional District that spread across northern San Diego County and into southern Orange County. The frontrunner in that race was Johnnie Crean, the privileged son - some would call him the spoiled rich kid - of John C. Crean, founder of Fleetwood Enterprises, one of the larger manufacturers of mobile and motor homes in the country.

Gerry was working for a small daily, the old Times-Advocate, and was given a generous amount of time - considering the size of the paper - to profile Mr. Crean. After several days of working on this project, Gerry confessed he had nothing to show for it but a classic case of writer's block.

He took care of the problem by going to Dodger Stadium. Some 100 miles to the north.

Whether Gerry was pulling our leg or not when he went to L.A., I don't know for sure. He is, after all, a pretty good poker player. But the story often motivated me when I was stuck on a story on which I had too much time to report, and Major League Baseball profited from it. If it worked for Gerry, I told myself, it could work for me.

That's because what came of Gerry's big adventure was one of the better profiles ever published in the small Escondido daily, which at the time was chock full of talented writers.

Gerry's writing only got better, and reporters often sought his advice on how to phrase a story even after he left his job as a writing coach and became a metro columnist in the spring of 2007.

Over the past 18 months, Gerry took pride in siding with the underdog. He wrote about a airlines treating their passengers like dirt and politicians taking people for granted. He wrote about developers and their ridiculous projects. And he wrote about people losing their jobs to new technology.

Not long ago, Gerry wrote about a mapmaker who was going out of business, no longer needed in a world of GPS devices and online services such as MapQuest and Google Earth.

Perhaps now we're suffering the same fate. After three recent rounds of buyouts and one round of layoffs, we're losing our soul.

Now that Gerry's gone, we've lost our voice.

Selling our soul

On the seventh anniversary of the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, reporters and editors at The San Diego Union-Tribune learned the newsroom would lose writers, wordsmiths and some pretty damn good journalists with a combined several hundred years worth of experience to the latest round of buyouts.

Susan Gembrowski, who gave up a teaching career for the passion of journalism, is among them. So is Cheryl Clark, who many in the profession regard as one of the most knowledgeable and dedicated medical writers in the business. Terry Rodgers, a Lakers and Dodgers diehard who has been around as long as dirt and whose encyclopedic memory has been vital to reporters young and old alike, is heading for the proverbial door. Gone is Ellen Bevier, a voracious reader and stickler for precision and accuracy who could probably write a history of San Diego County without referring to notes. Ruth McKinnie, who has held so many posts at the paper she could publish it herself, is leaving too. Carol Goodhue, a Stanford grad who has recruited our interns and served as our ombudsman, is also packing it in.

People don't get into the newspaper business to make money. Sure, over the past decade or so, many of us have become firmly ensconced in the shrinking middle class. But we're in it because of a belief, perhaps a little misguided, that we can make a difference in this world, that we can root out corruption, shine a light on folks who are doing good and help illuminate a society that would be blind - and easy prey - were it not for a free press. The people who are leaving were vital in covering the historic wildfires of 2003 and 2007, unearthed incompetence that led to needless deaths at area hospitals and kept hundreds of thousands of parents informed about how the public education system is serving - and failing - their kids.

But the newspaper industry remains a business, and if business stop growing, they die. Our industry is in intensive care.

"There's too much uncertainty," one of the prematurely retired said, fighting back tears after a 5 p.m. deadline had passed for her to rescind her forms telling the company she would leave Sept. 30. "I wanted to leave when I had a choice."

What are my soon-to-be former co-workers going to do once they're out the door? Who knows?

"I don't know what I'm going to do," an editor said. "I don't know if I made the right decision."

One thing is certain. Come Sept. 30, this company will once again lose a lot of good people. People who fought not for themselves, but for the public good. People who worked at all hours of the night not because they loved being in a newsroom or out reporting, but because it was their duty.

"This place is going to have no character," said a reporter who works with me, upon learning about who was leaving. "This place is going to have no soul."

Ruminations of a dinosaur

Barely more than three years ago, the newspaper I've spent most my waking hours at the past several years employed some 1,800 people. Today, we're down to about 1,200. I'm not good with math, which is why I became a journalist, but that's a decline of more than 33 percent. Now we're going to lose another batch of folks, including nearly three dozen in the newsroom, through yet another round of buyouts - the third in three years. As The Clash so famously asked back in the early 1980s, the question for me becomes: Should I stay or should I go?

It's a question being asked at newsrooms across America. It's a question thousands of reporters, editors, layout artists and news assistants never thought they'd ask. It's a question I'm getting tired of being thrown my way.

I suppose it could be worse. My company could make it easier on us by calling 30 or 40 newsroom employees into HR and simply tell us we're being laid off. The cord would be cut, unceremoniously true, but at least I wouldn't have to worry about collecting unemployment benefits.

Problem is, the economy sucks. Government economists are still trying to determine if we're officially in a recession, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out things haven't been this bad since the 1970s. The unemployment rate just rocketed past what the Associated Press calls the "psychologically important" level of 6 percent, but let's get real. It's much worse than that. In this new economy, so many people have gone back to school or stopped looking for work that my guess is we're well beyond 7 percent. If the same economic data used for determining inflation rates back when Jimmy Carter was president were used today, the Consumer Price Index would be well beyond 8 percent. I've been looking for work for several weeks, and let me tell you, there's nothing out there.

So here I am. Waiting for yet another shoe to drop, hanging on in the meantime, wondering if the economy will improve by the time the next round of buyouts - or layoffs - arrive. Meanwhile, I figure it would be healthy to write about how one journalist, with nearly 30 years of professional experience - is dealing with the dilemma.

I call it ruminations of a dinosaur.