He will be missed.
He IS missed, by me, at least, now that I am no longer in the business, or at the LAT, where I was a relative nobody but still a hard, productive worker and someone who was always proud to be there.
As Jay Privman tweeted, Dwyre is a good man. I see him as something of a moral compass in that newsroom. He certainly was someone who would share his experience, connections, ideas and wisdom -- and encourage those of others -- when he worked with younger reporters.
To wit: He loved pro tennis and enjoyed covering it, as I did. Among some of my fondest memories of work at the LAT were a couple of occasions when he invited me into his office (granted it was virtually only about three feet from my desk), shut the door, and went over with me how best to attack a couple of fairly in-depth, tennis-related news and news-feature stories. He pulled out his rolodex, called a couple of sources of his own, introduced me to them, bounced some information I'd had off of them, thus, helping me on the way to three stories that were among those I was most proud of in my career, and giving me sources that I returned to again and again over the years.
The day after the stories ran as a package, I found hard-copy printouts of them sitting on my desk, with Dwyre's hand-written compliments about them scrawled across the top.
The thing I will always love him for most, however, was his quiet personal support of me once it started to become clear that I was likely to be among those targeted in the next round of the many buyouts that have taken place there over the last 10 years. In my case, this was in early or mid-2007.
I'll always remember how he made a point of taking me to lunch one day -- just little ole me, and him -- around that time and advised me to keep working hard, keep coming up with good ideas (which was an acknowledged and appreciated strong suit of mine), but, more than anything, keep a low profile beyond that, and don't clash with mid-level supervisors or editors. I know he also took another reporter, who was also at a similar level to me, out for a similar one-on-one lunchtime meeting around that same time.
I did my best, and so did the other reporter, but, sure enough, we were the next two let go from the sports staff there. So, I have to think that Dwyre knew. He just knew, even before we did, although I'm sure both of us were getting that sense.
At the time, working at the paper was my life, and my parting from the LAT was not easy. And it was followed by what still ranks as the darkest period of time in my life.
The next day, though, when, you know, the typical job-ending desertion/separation begins and is really felt, I received two unsolicited phone calls at home from now-former colleagues. One was from Mike Bresnahan. (How highly I, and many others, probably, think of him is another story).
The other was from Bill Dwyre, wanting to know the scoop on exactly what had happened with me and how I was doing. To the best of my ability, I told him, and he let me know that I could use him as a reference, and ask anytime for any other help he could give. I thanked him from the heart, but even in my misery, it didn't seem like enough because it had meant that much to me that he'd gone out of his way to contact me when almost no one else did, at what I considered the lowest point of my life.
About a year later, still-struggling job-wise, but doing much better overall, I met Dwyre again for lunch in L.A., at a popular, upscale business-sect restaurant about 50 miles from my house. I don't think Dwyre realized I lived that far away, and when he asked and I told him where I was coming from, he seemed to feel a little bad that he'd suggested that we meet where we did. But he shouldn't have. Not by a longshot.
Beyond the fact that I don't really mind driving, anyway, the fact is that I would have gone practically anywhere that was within a day's drive if it meant I'd get to see and talk to Bill Dwyre again.
After all, he was a former sports editor of mine, and I considered him a mentor, and more, really, thanks to several random acts of kindness that he committed on my behalf.
Suffice to say that the LAT won't be the same without him.