I’ve been avoiding this topic on my blog, partly because I’ve been too lazy to write about it and partly because I’ve been trying to ignore it. But, obviously, the time has come. It’s time to post a tribute to the Seattle Post-Intelligencer.
This morning I spent an hour and a half reading the closure coverage in the P-I. Sipping my coffee, it was a ritual I’ve repeated hundreds and hundreds of times. Only this time it was my last. Tomorrow morning, the paper at the doorstep will be The Seattle Times. I’m not exactly happy about that — clearly I’d rather the P-I keep publishing in print.
But I must admit, I am excited to see what happens with the P-I’s transition to online-only. SeattlePI.com will be the nation’s first major experiment in whether a traditional newspaper can cut ties with dead trees and survive on the Web. Everyone in the industry is watching.
Pardon the upcoming romantic memoir.
The Seattle Post-Intelligencer was the newspaper I grew up reading. Like so many other people in so many other cities with so many other papers, the P-I was my conduit into the journalism world. I cut my teeth by reading the comics — called, in the P-I, “Coffee Break” — and Mariners coverage in the mid-’90s fooled me into actually reading the newspaper.
But before I even cared about the newspaper’s content, the Seattle P-I had cemented a place in my heart with — what else? — its big, revolving, neon globe. Way, way back in the day, my dad had an apartment in the Lower Queen Anne neighborhood. From his balcony you could watch the P-I globe spin. My dad would look out the window and tell me, quoting the globe, “It’s in the P-I.” Yes, there was so much wonder in that big ball of glowing metal.
It was the hometown newspaper. The Seattle P-I, for as long as I’ve been alive, was the underdog. The Seattle Times was the big, mean Doberman. The P-I always seemed closer to the hearts of Seattleites; it had a better finger on the city’s pulse.
I’ve often wondered if my early experiences with the P-I steered my future toward journalism. The allure of newspapers brought me into the Daily Evergreen newsroom at WSU, and though it took a semester for me to find my reporting legs, I ended up falling for journalism. After a year of working for the Evergreen, taking on more and more important stories, I applied for an internship at the Seattle P-I. And got it.
There I was, just a year into my journalism career, working at the newspaper I grew up admiring. The internship did not disappoint — I took what I learned there, and my stronger passion for journalism, back to the Evergreen and ended up as editor-in-chief. That, in turn, landed me my job at The Spokesman-Review in Spokane. And I credit the P-I for all of it.
That’s why today’s closure of the P-I — at least as Seattle has known it for 146 years — hit me hard. It’s not like it was a surprise, since Hearst put the paper up for sale two months ago. And it wasn’t the first major newspaper to die this year, after the closure of the Rocky Mountain News in Denver last month. But the fact that it happened to the P-I — my newspaper — gives it a more personal sting.
I am sad for the 100-plus journalists who lost their jobs today. I know many of them, and many of them were mentors who helped me become a better journalist. I am more sad for Seattle, which has now lost its heart, and a voice. And I am devastated for the state of American journalism, both for its dwindling effectiveness and its incapacity to adapt to the digital age.
For most Americans, the demise of the P-I is yet another drop in the bucket. Many people are saddened at the loss of another important institution. Many people are disaffected, happy to see the Big Bad Media fall apart and excited for the future of online news.
I feel discouraged, only able to watch from the sidelines and so far unable to get another job in journalism. A significant piece of my life dissolved today. However close to home this downward journalism spiral has been, the P-I’s closure brings it closer.
But, as I mentioned above, I am still excited to see what happens. I’m rooting for the success of the online-only P-I. It would give struggling journalists like me, and so many people I know and care about, some much-needed hope in these dismal times.
So, rest in peace, P-I print. And welcome to the new world, P-I online. Godspeed.
Nope. I didn’t feel the 4.5 magnitude earthquake that hit the Seattle region at 5:25 this morning. (The picture above is the actual seismograph of it!) The dog didn’t bark, the cat (sleeping in my room) didn’t freak — aren’t they supposed to be our warning system?
One of the plusses of living in Eastern Washington was the drastically reduced chance of, well, dying in a huge earthquake. But, given the choice between living in Western or Eastern Washington, I don’t mind the risk. The only time I think about Seattle’s location along the Pacific Ring of Fire is when I’m driving over the viaduct going, “Please don’t collapse. Please don’t collapse….”
Partially inspired by Annette’s recent post, I’ll take this opportunity to make a short, annotated list of the earthquakes I’ve experienced.
1. I was fortunate enough to be in the 1992 Landers earthquake in Southern California while visiting grandparents in Palm Springs. Not mentioned in the Wikipedia entry, this 7.3 magnitude earthquake came in two parts, if I remember correctly. I slept through the first half (c’mon, I was 7), but my parents woke me up in time to ride out the second half, crouched in a doorframe (terrified).
2. Sometimes considered an aftershock, the 6.4 magnitude Big Bear earthquake hit three hours after the Landers quake. These memories all blend together into one big earthquake, which sloshed tons of water out of the swimming pool out back and had my 72-year-old grandpa yelling, “Holy shit! Holy shit!” My 69-year-old grandma, dozing in a chair underneath a ceiling fan, woke up and started shouting, “Oh dear God! Oh dear God!”
3. The Duvall Quake in 1996, a 5.3 that hit Seattle in May, was interesting because I was back at my grandparents’ house in Palm Springs. So I missed it. But my stepdad, Brad, didn’t. He was at a Seattle Mariners game when the quake hit — and prompted several giant tiles to fall from the ceiling of the Kingdome. Anyone who followed the Mariners back then is sure to remember that whole Kingdome tiles fiasco.
4. It was early February and I was sitting at the kitchen table at my house in West Seattle, filling out those little Valentine’s Day cards you get at the drugstore. They were probably Looney Tunes ones, or something similar. I suddenly became aware of a distant rumbling, something far across Puget Sound to the west. The rumbling quickly grew closer and louder, perceptibly traveling eastward toward Seattle. By the time the shaking hit, I was halfway to the doorjamb. As it turned out, it was only a 3.9 magnitude quake. But I remember the tremor clearly.
5. That was it until February 28, 2001 — the Nisqually Quake. I was a sophomore in high school, and the earthquake hit when I was standing in line for lunch. I had just visited New York City, so when I felt a slight rumble under my feet, my brain automatically registered it as the subway underground. It took a split second for my reasoning to kick in — “Wait, Seattle doesn’t have a subway system” — and by then the quake had hit. Kids and teachers hit the deck, scrambling under tables and hugging support beams. The quake came in waves instead of violent shaking, and lasted about 45 seconds.
We were told to evacuate the building (our lunchroom was in the basement of an apartment building four blocks south of our school — I know, it’s weird as hell) because chunks of the facade near the roof had fallen onto the sidewalk below. The school building itself, despite being 100 years old, was fine — old wood has a way of swaying and bending.
Initial reports gave the earthquake a magnitude of 6.0, but seismologists later upgraded it to 6.8. No one died, but a few buildings in Pioneer Square had corners that crumbled. Of course, the biggest casualty of that earthquake was the Alaskan Way Viaduct — which, as we all know, still hasn’t quite died.
6. I’d say this morning’s earthquake doesn’t really belong on my list, because I didn’t have a clue it happened until I read the news. The viaduct is still standing, though I’m sure today it will be crawling with engineers checking out its structural integrity. Perhaps the next time I drive on it I’ll be gripping the steering wheel just a little tighter.
Hats off, once again, to The New York Times for its interactive graphic on Thursday’s plane crash in the Hudson River. It’s exactly what I wanted to see, and it was executed beautifully. And they turned it around so quickly!
MAPLE GROVE, Minn. — There was a point during Barack Obama’s acceptance speech last night when the camera focused on an American flag behind him. It was the first time in about five years that I felt proud to see the stars and stripes.
For years, the American flag has stood for things I don’t stand for. Finally, with the results of this election, the Star-spangled Banner now represents hope, it represents promise, it represents progress. It’s time to move forward from the past eight years of corporatism and failed governance. It’s time for America to be the country it can and should be.
We can finally catch up to the rest of the world in dealing with climate change, human rights and peacekeeping. And now we have the opportunity not just to march with the progressive world, but to lead it — in a good way.
I’m joyful that a majority of Americans feel the same way I do. With the 2004 election, I lost faith in a lot of my fellow Americans for re-electing Bush. Finally, the country is starting to wake up and see what a bad position we are in, and see how we can best try to fix it.
As a journalist, I am supposed to remain outwardly neutral in politics. I realize this blog post may appear to overstep those bounds. But, to me, this election was not about politics or partisanship, but about progress. Few people can dispute that the Bush administration turned out to be a horrible choice for this country and the world. It was time for change, and it finally has come.
I consider myself neither a Republican nor a Democrat. But I do consider myself a supporter of progressiveness, social advancement and global responsibility. And, hence, I consider myself a supporter of Obama’s promises.
Thank you, American voters, for restoring my faith in this country.
Filed under: Events
MAPLE GROVE, Minn. — It’s Nov. 4. I haven’t gotten my free cup of coffee yet, but I’m looking forward to it.
Should be interesting to be in this swing state on Election Day. There’s probably a little more excitement and uncertainty here than in Washington. But, I have a hunch Minnesota will go with its traditional Democratic leaning.
I’ve already voted — about two weeks ago via the mail. (I believe that’s the only way to do it in Washington anymore, with a few exceptions.)
Anyway, here we go!
EDIT: By the way, this from The New York Times is the coolest thing ever.
Filed under: Adventure, Challenge, Events, Job Search, Journalism, News Industry, Sea Change
Well hey everybody. It’s been a month since I last posted. Part of that is because I’ve been busy at work, and part of it is because I’ve been lazy at blogging. Really lazy.
Obviously my big news is that I am on a list of 25-27 employees expected to be laid off by Oct. 24. But I’ll get to that in a bit.
The past month started out with some real promise. Steve Smith, former editor-in-chief of The Spokesman-Review, asked Brian Immel and me to kick off a big project. We were charged with taking the popular SportsLink blog and spinning it off into its own website, with the goal of making it profitable. That was going to be our job — I’d no longer be in the sports department.
The project got going slowly because Brian was busy working on the Spokesman’s yet-to-be-launched new website. So I continued my sports multimedia producer job. This included another new project, The Mike & Greg Show — a weekly video with two high-school sports reporters in which they make their game picks for the upcoming weekend. So far, we’ve done four episodes (1, 2, 3, 4).
Last Monday, Brian and I finally started having some good conversations on what we wanted to do with SportsLink. We wanted text-message updates, better play for videos, customizable home pages — we were even toying with the idea of making it a social networking site. (I know, it’s a dreaded term. There’s just no better one.)
Then came Wednesday, and everything came to a halt.
Layoffs. For me, out of the blue. I expected to get at least a little warning that layoffs might be coming. It was quite sudden — a morning e-mail announcing an all-staff meeting, rumors throughout the day, then the gauntlet came down.
Twenty-one union-covered newsroom employees were on the layoff list. Plus four to six managers. All said, 25 to 27 people gone from the newsroom. That’s about one-quarter of the staff. It’s devastating. Amid the turmoil, Steve also resigned. He had for months told people there wouldn’t be more layoffs under his watch. I’m glad he followed through.
The layoffs, as governed by an agreement between management and the union, must be done by inverse seniority. The majority of us on the list are 20-something journalists from all departments. Three of us are from sports. Wednesday night, a group of us gathered at Lisa’s and my place for some commiseration.
The next day, assistant managing editor Carla Savalli announced her resignation. And the exodus had started.
People have two weeks to submit voluntary resignations, which would help save the jobs of some of the people on the layoff list. I’m not holding out too much hope. And that gets me to, well, me.
When the news was announced, I didn’t know how to take it. I knew my name would be on that list; I’m the second-least-senior member of the sports staff. After Steve’s meeting, I immediately ducked out of the newsroom and headed home.
But now it’s sinking in. For the past few days, I’ve been working on getting my stuff together to send out job applications. Lisa graciously redesigned my résumé for me, I uploaded a few of my videos to Vimeo and I gathered together a bunch of print clips for my portfolio.
Really, I’ve started to see this as an exciting challenge, a chance to go somewhere else without feeling bad about leaving the Spokesman. I’m looking not just near my hometown Seattle, but elsewhere in the country. I’m not limiting myself to just print or just video, I’m broadening my scope. And, yes, that means broadening my scope past newspapers — though that’s where the majority of my searching has taken me.
I will soon make a new page for this website to function as a sort of video portfolio. And I may start putting up some print clips. But this means I may hide the blog for a little bit, to keep it out of the eyes of potential employers. I don’t think there’s anything that could hurt my chances here, but it’s not worth the risk. If I hide the blog, I’ll be sure to tell you all how to access it.
In the meantime, thanks to those of you who have called or texted me to check in. I’ll keep everyone posted.
A week or two ago, I meant to write an entry about how I felt a little left out of the rush to cover the Valley View Fire, a brush fire in Spokane Valley that destroyed 13 homes. Being in the sports department has a way of keeping you out of the news loop.
But Thursday was a different story. On our way out of the door to take Lisa to work, her grandpa called to say there was an entire building on fire downtown. Just in case, I grabbed my ready-to-go backpack and drove downtown.
The smoke was everywhere. A giant plume rushing skyward. Once I dropped off Lisa at the newsroom, she called and said that, as I expected, no one was over there doing video. I rushed over to the scene (admittedly, I took a detour home to put on real shoes, get a real shirt and grab a hat — I’d just rolled out of bed) and busted out my camera.
Several smoke-filled (plus chemicals!) hours of shooting later, here’s what I came up with:
It was nice to be back on news, if only for a day. I got the adrenaline rush. My hair, two days later, still has a hint of smoke smell to it. And even though I worked 14.5 hours that day (8 a.m. to 10:30 p.m. — still had to cover an Indians game), I would have done it a thousand times over.
Filed under: Events
Well, that was cooler than I thought it would be.
Forty-thousand people lined up to run or walk through the Bloomsday course looks like way more than you’d think. At the start-finish line, Spokane’s Riverside Avenue was a sea of human bodies. This picture does it no justice.
I covered the elite women’s race for the S-R, riding in the bed of a pickup truck through the 7.46 mile (12K meter) course that winds around what is probably the hilliest part of Spokane. The top runners were mostly skinny, 90 lb. Kenyan women, which made interviewing slightly tougher.
If you subscribe to S-R.com, you can read my article here.
But the coolest thing about Bloomsday, I thought, was that as you meander down the race course, you pass at least a dozen garage bands just jamming along the side of the street. In driveways! On street corners! On those little islands in large intersections!
Anyway, for some reason I didn’t take a picture of any bands. But they were there.
And I had to take this picture on my drive back home to Pullman. It was such a nice day.
Filed under: Events
Lisa, Brian, Lonnie, Allison, Jenna, Melanie, Emily and 800 other students packed Beasley Coliseum on Saturday for the 11:30 a.m. graduation ceremony. Victor also graduated, but he did not walk.
It was a little eerie for Jacob (who visited this weekend) and me, since we were in the same place one year ago donning our own caps and gowns. And though it was hot at the top of Beasley, and though the ceremony got a bit boring, it was great seeing everyone on the big screen, finally receiving their much-deserved fake diplomas.
Filed under: Events
Saturday night, Lisa and I went to see rock-piano master Ben Folds at Beasley Coliseum. It was awesome, besides the fact he didn’t play an encore despite at least five minutes of cheering from the fans.
He played a lot of songs I didn’t know, which surprised me. I thought I knew his collection fairly extensively. But that means there are plenty more great Ben Folds songs I still must download.
