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Wednesday marks my last official day as editor-in-chief of the Dallas Observer. (Unofficially, I’m feeling a bit … um … fluish. So I probably won’t be back in the office again after Tuesday. Cough. Cough.)
I’m just a month shy of marking 29 years at the Observer, and I’ve spent my entire adult life in newspapering, so at this point I suppose I should have some big thought to share about media, culture, life or something. Hmm. Let me think.
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Nope, sorry. Got nothing.
This isn’t to say I haven’t taken pleasure and pride in my work here. We’ve stirred up some shit, kicked a few bullies in the shin, exposed lies and inanity. That was fun. We’ve also provided some comfort to the afflicted, brought attention to the ignored and did our part to show what a great city Dallas might be and sometimes is.
We did this by telling stories well. Jim Schutze was and is a master of that, and the best of my time here was as his editor. (The worst was seeing him go. As you might have heard, the news business is struggling these days.)
Julie Lyons, my first editor-in-chief here, was both kind and tough. She could resuscitate bloody first drafts from near death, and her own writing flowed like a crystal stream and spoke in your head like her words were your own thoughts.
There were many more over the years: Anne Zimmerman, Thomas Korosec, Rose Farley, Beth Rankin, Jesse Hyde, Mark Donald, Simone Carter, Anna Merlan. Fine, tireless reporters and skilled writers all. Oh, and there’s that Robert something or other guy. I forget his last name. Hard worker, hard-punching writer. I hear he’s still working around town somewhere. If you know him, tell him PeeDub says hey.
I’m kidding, of course. I mean Robert Wizinsky. Good man, that. But I probably will forget most of these names soon enough, and that’s the way I think it should be. You want pseudoprofound thoughts on journalism, government, life or predictions about the future? You’re in luck; the world is drowning in them. Punditry has never been my bag.
My journalism hero of all time is someone whose name I truly can’t recall. He was a cop reporter at The Dallas Morning News, out covering the city during a vicious ice storm when some poor driver froze atop the tallest ramp on the High Five, backing up traffic as they panicked about driving the long, scary slope down. This reporter walked all the way up the icy ramp and interviewed the driver, just to get the story.
Shoe-leather reporters have always been my favorites. I don’t remember his name, but I remember the story.
And here’s where I get to my Big Point: Bylines and titles don’t matter. The stories do, and they belong to the people in them. Digging in, being fearless, getting the story and getting it right are what’s important. Compassion, passion and sometimes rage and humor have always been the special spice the countless fine Observer reporters and editors I’ve worked with have brought to that mix.
I sometimes fear that truth, empathy and humility have been so devalued, swamped by influencers, pundits and outright liars that the culture the Observer has served is dying. But naturally, I would think that. I’m 64. I think today’s music sucks, too, and have you seen the price of bread lately?
The young, hardworking, irreverent reporters working here today — Emma Ruby and Austin Wood — are like that guy who climbed the High Five, pushing to get the story. They’ll be led by Kelly Dearmore, senior editor, news, and Lauren Drewes Daniels, senior editor, food, who will both lead the newsroom forward. Alec Spicer and Alyssa Fields will drive arts and music coverage, and Jordan Maddox will push everyone’s work to new audiences on social media. The whole gang will be overseen by Sam Eifling, the new Voice Media Group national editor, and Executive Editor Chelsey Dequaine-Jerabek.
Sometimes when I look at this staff of young journalists, I pause, and I think: “Wow, you guys should look into learning a trade like pipefitting. Good pay. Lots of jobs. Real value. Oh, and put money in your 401(k).”
OK, fine. They keep my hope in the future of reporting alive, as do you, the people who continue to read us. I think the staff knows I’m kidding, but I hope they’d be disappointed if I ended this bit of schmaltz without being a smartass.
Good luck, everyone.
