This is the last day for this paper.
The day I packed my cubicle I had two boxes to carry from the building.
I still have my pica pole. The web will never replace what the feeling of working for a paper was — the buzz and hum before the sterility of these boxes took over. Lose the paper, and you lose the community. All the little things that make up a town or a geographic area in America.
My town no longer has a paper — not a real one, anyway.
The owner has no idea of how many lives were devastated.
A newspaper isn’t something that can be replaced, not ever. Losing even one is devastating to the fabric of American culture — and our democracy in this country. A song came on the radio while I was looking at their last front page. My heart goes out to everyone in the place this morning — and I dedicate this one to them. I bought this record when I was 13 — along with some Elton John, James Taylor and Woodstock.
I think we need to revisit what the 70’s meant — town to town — pretty soon in this country.
America needs its newspapers, again.
When the San Francisco Chronicle and the Los Angeles Times go?
My state will look like yours does this morning.