Bye-bye P-I: One man's -30-

[ArnoldBabar]

And so it ends. Tonight the last P-I goes to bed, and with it my newspaper career.

Like Chuck Hickey 17 days ago, I know I'll spend part of that day here with people who I know understand. I only wish I could be as classy and magnanimous as Chuck was, but at the moment I'm not sure I have it in me. I think part of the reason is that unlike the fine people at the Rocky, we were given 60 days to twist in the wind and grow bitter.

The P-I made it through nearly 150 years, half a dozen wars, the Depression, saw the city it covers burn and burned down itself. But now the numbers on a spreadsheet say it doesn’t make any sense to keep going, so the company is writing us off as a bad debt. Of all the outcomes people saw for this market, Hearst just walking away (save for a handful of lower-paying online jobs) without a fight wasn’t ever one of them. Prior to this we never had one layoff, never had one buyout. As bad as it sucks watching the painful bloodletting at other shops, that will always bug me. My company just up and quit -- and was at many turns hamhanded and inhumane in the final process.

So after 17 years in newspapers, I have to figure out what’s next. I’ve never done anything else and don’t know any other life. It’s one thing to lose a job, but something entirely different to lose your whole industry.

Later, I hope I will be able to feel the gratefulness I know is inside me. I have never taken a journalism class, and started out writing rural high school gamers on a typewriter for a tiny weekly. What happened to me was a 1,000-to-1 shot with a lot of luck involved. For nearly a decade, I’ve spent my days inside the inside of the highest level of a sport that means more to me than I’ve ever been able to adequately express. The people I’ve known, the things I’ve seen, the places I’ve been -- I know many, many people would kill to have experienced that.

But right now there's only the cold emptiness of having it taken away without any say in the matter. My infant son will never know a father who is living his professional dream. He’ll know a dad who at best is writing press releases about the latest in riding lawnmowers, and at worst is selling roses in front of the gas station. Then again, he’ll never miss a father who is away at spring training or on an East Coast road trip, either. So there’s that.

Today we await instructions on where and when to turn in computers and key cards and where to pick up our severance check. Tonight I'll be in the newsroom with a bottle of scotch I've been saving, pouring it down the throats of my underappreciated copy desk.

I hope you'll pardon the wallowing, and thanks to everyone for the kind words over the past few weeks. It means a lot.

Good night, old gal.

David Andriesen
Baseball writer, Seattle Post-Intelligencer
1999-2009

 

[MileHigh]

Damn it, stop making it dusty.

I'm so sorry. I obviously know what you're feeling and going through. It really is unreal how this is all turning out. Everywhere.

Be strong.

God, this sucks.

 

[Angola!]

Well-said, David.

It's a sad day even for those of us who never worked there.

I heard the drinks will be plentiful in the sports department tonight. I'd buy one for you if I could.

 

[Small Town Guy]

It's scary to think how many well-written obituaries like this we're going to have read in the coming months. Best of luck.

 

[Mizzougrad96]

The worst aspect of this is that it's getting to the point that too many of us can relate far too well to this...

 

[OTD]

It's scary to think how many well-written obituaries like this we're going to have read in the coming months. Best of luck.

My thoughts exactly. Good luck to you and your family.

You (and most of us, when it's inevitably our turn) will come out of this OK. It's our readers I'm most worried about. By the time they figure out what they're missing, it'll be too late to do anything about it.

 

[mike311gd]

Keep your chin up and your throat open, AB.

Your job is the one I've wanted since I began writing, and I don't know what I'd do if I finally got there -- only to have it ripped away from me.

If you ever come East, I'll buy the tickets. The seats won't be what you're use to, but the shirt will be optional.

 

[21]

David, that adorable little boy is going to love his dad and be proud of him no matter what.

Wishing you everything you wish for yourself. Good luck.

 

[Inky_Wretch]

AB, you're pure class. I have no doubt you'll land on your feet.

 

[Fenian_Bastard]

AB --
Started this twice. Everything sounded banal and inadequate. Maintain your passion for what we do. I honestly believe there's an end to this horrible period. We're going to need the likes of you when we get there.

 

[Wallace]

Best of luck David, and all of those at the P.I. I've rubbed elbows with some of the reporters over there at various events, and they're all top-notch people. I can't imagine what you all are feeling right now, but I know one thing: I'll be grabbing up copies of the paper tomorrow, not only for myself, but the rest of my family who have all requested me to, despite them all living on the East side of the state now.

I think that tells you something about what this paper means to Seattle.

 

[goalmouth]

It's a small saving grace to know that the soul of the newspaper business will live on in the people who made it great, and that we were lucky to work with others who are talented and passionate about what they do. My bet's on you, Dave, whatever comes next.

 

[User 1019]

Damn. This sucks.

 

[zeke12]

David --

Nothing comes close to expressing what it should.

So, in a vain attempt at saying something: Thanks for being a newspaperman.

 

[forever_town]

David,

Words aren't much of a comfort right now, but I wanted to let you know that I thought yours were an eloquent tribute to a great newspaper that is breathing its last.

It's a sad day to see one of the great papers of our nation's history become a shadow of itself. It's a tragedy that a media company can so callously and heartlessly walk away from the struggle without putting up even the most token resistance.

More than the effect on any one staff member, my thoughts go to everyone who has to turn in a computer or a key card and pick up a severance check. My thoughts are with people who now have to line up at the unemployment offices and try to find something, anything that will help them make ends meet.

Yesterday, I saw a video online in which the speaker, who happens to be a state secretary of labor talked about having hope. It struck me because he told people to look for something to tell them that today is a good day, and that it was better than yesterday. I had a good day yesterday, but the memories of that good day have taken a bad seat to today's news.

I wish you and your family well in this trying time. I wish you and your colleagues the best as you all begin the journey toward new careers and, hopefully, fulfillment somewhere. But most of all, I wish for you the knowledge that you and everyone you worked with have far greater commitment to yourselves and your craft than did the numbers crunchers.

Don't follow the example set by the bean counters in your next task, in your next job or in life. Be more like that long-ago naval hero John Paul Jones, who was faced with commanding a crippled old ship and the bravado of the Royal Navy in a stronger ship. When he was asked if he'd given up, history records him as having said, "I have not yet begun to fight." We all know what happened there.

Godspeed, David and The Post-Intelligencer.

 

[RickStain]

 

[pressboxramblings07]

Best of luck, and many prayers to you, your family and the Seattle P-I.

 

[mustangj17]

Sorry man.

 

[steveu]

David,

Just like with the Rocky last month and its fine writers, my sentiments go out to you. You fought the good fight, you gave 110 percent, you stepped up.

I'm sorry for all the cliches, but I have a feeling papers folding in the next few years will become the ultimate cliche.

Cheers to the PI. Hang your heads high, even though I know it's hard.

 

[luckyducky]

David/AB --

I finally made it through your post ... but staring down that globe is tough.

You are one of the good ones, and not just on SJ, but also in the journalism world. Your job is the one I grew up dreaming of, reading both local papers as a kid but always wanting to cover the M's for the P-I. Not only growing up reading it, but knowing so many of you from my days at the shop down the road, this just kills me. With the P-I, so goes part of my heart.

I've met many folks in this business, especially in the Seattle region, but nowhere have I found such classy folks through and through than the Seattle P-I. Through workshops and SJ and covering preps and other events in the area, the staff of the P-I are the best bunch of journalists I know. While I'd held out a small bit of hope that it wouldn't come to this, the entire print product closing, the only silver lining is that there is no more wondering ... the P-I staff now knows what tomorrow holds, even if they're unsure of Wednesday.

I hope you all are able to sufficiently mourn together, be it by bottle or tears. I wish you, and your coworkers, the very best. And to you, and any of your coworkers who may read this, if you need anything -- tomorrow, next week, this summer, etc. -- just say the word.