Tripp McNeely
Member
- Joined
- Jan 27, 2008
- Messages
- 709
The day we all had dreaded had arrived.
I received a message on the computer. A few of my co-workers were having lunch together before going in for our shift when a cell phone rang. It was the paper asking that the worker "come in for a meeting."
The message hung on my computer screen and I knew what it meant. We all did.
Anyone who's read the Journalism Topics section knows what's been going on at several newspapers. Ours was just the latest.
I started to tear up, knowing that the man who had just been let go is a husband and father of four. What is he going to do now?
Moments later, my phone rang. I froze, before looking down and seeing another co-worker's number. This one, my best friend.
"Well, it was nice working with you," he said, more than a hint of anger and disappointment in his voice.
"You heard from (name omitted)?" I asked?
"Yes. They want me to come down for a meeting. I asked if I needed to bring my playbook and he said yes, if that's how you want to put it."
I was stuck. My voice caught. My eyes started to puff and nose started to run. I tried to talk, but I couldn't. My best friend, married with a 1-year-old son, who had started at the paper longer than anyone else in the department, was gone.
I tried to tell him I was sorry, to comfort him, to tell him I'd help out any way I could.
"Hello?" he asked?
"Yeah ...Sorry" I choked out.
More silence. Finally, I was able to ask if I could call him back. He said yes, and I hung up.
Every time the hurt would subside, a new name would arise. Someone who I had worked side by side with. A person I had gone to battle with against deadline while working the copy desk.
Gone.
Gone with nothing but a pittance of a severance package.
I called my friend back and apologized for my demeanor. I said all the things I wanted to say and then we hung up.
I had to go to work.
The day got a little brighter when I got to the office. Many of our workers had to reapply for job transfers to another paper in the area. There were almost double the applicants for the spots available.
Nearly all of my other co-workers/friends landed positions. All hardworking guys who deserve to still pull a paycheck.
It was a bittersweet night, though. On Thursday, I'll go into the office and it will be barren in comparison to what it usually is. Copy editors and designers will be working elsewhere, or, in the case of four men, looking for work altogether.
I walked out the door tonight knowing the relationships I built will never be the same again. We were a team, a unit. I dare say it's as close to playing on a sports team as there can be. Each fighting for the common goal. Thursday, I'll be there alone, doing my thing and sending my work through a computer to the production staff.
Jokes and snarky remarks will remain in my head. Dinners will be quiet. Watching games won't be nearly as fun in the office, now.
The business has changed and now, my life has changed.
Things won't ever be the same, again.
I'll miss you guys.
I received a message on the computer. A few of my co-workers were having lunch together before going in for our shift when a cell phone rang. It was the paper asking that the worker "come in for a meeting."
The message hung on my computer screen and I knew what it meant. We all did.
Anyone who's read the Journalism Topics section knows what's been going on at several newspapers. Ours was just the latest.
I started to tear up, knowing that the man who had just been let go is a husband and father of four. What is he going to do now?
Moments later, my phone rang. I froze, before looking down and seeing another co-worker's number. This one, my best friend.
"Well, it was nice working with you," he said, more than a hint of anger and disappointment in his voice.
"You heard from (name omitted)?" I asked?
"Yes. They want me to come down for a meeting. I asked if I needed to bring my playbook and he said yes, if that's how you want to put it."
I was stuck. My voice caught. My eyes started to puff and nose started to run. I tried to talk, but I couldn't. My best friend, married with a 1-year-old son, who had started at the paper longer than anyone else in the department, was gone.
I tried to tell him I was sorry, to comfort him, to tell him I'd help out any way I could.
"Hello?" he asked?
"Yeah ...Sorry" I choked out.
More silence. Finally, I was able to ask if I could call him back. He said yes, and I hung up.
Every time the hurt would subside, a new name would arise. Someone who I had worked side by side with. A person I had gone to battle with against deadline while working the copy desk.
Gone.
Gone with nothing but a pittance of a severance package.
I called my friend back and apologized for my demeanor. I said all the things I wanted to say and then we hung up.
I had to go to work.
The day got a little brighter when I got to the office. Many of our workers had to reapply for job transfers to another paper in the area. There were almost double the applicants for the spots available.
Nearly all of my other co-workers/friends landed positions. All hardworking guys who deserve to still pull a paycheck.
It was a bittersweet night, though. On Thursday, I'll go into the office and it will be barren in comparison to what it usually is. Copy editors and designers will be working elsewhere, or, in the case of four men, looking for work altogether.
I walked out the door tonight knowing the relationships I built will never be the same again. We were a team, a unit. I dare say it's as close to playing on a sports team as there can be. Each fighting for the common goal. Thursday, I'll be there alone, doing my thing and sending my work through a computer to the production staff.
Jokes and snarky remarks will remain in my head. Dinners will be quiet. Watching games won't be nearly as fun in the office, now.
The business has changed and now, my life has changed.
Things won't ever be the same, again.
I'll miss you guys.