Having worked there for 30 years, I probably should say something about the passing of The Rocky Mountain News, but there'll be enough ink spilled by others. When I heard about the paper's demise -- which comes as no surprise to anyone -- I was in the midst of reviewing footage for two public service announcements, a project that I'm working on with filmmaker Jim Phelan. Failing newspapers have ceased to be news, and I leave it to all the others -- and there will be many -- to talk about how depressing it is to watch a newspaper die. I've seen more than a few go belly up in my lifetime. This is one particular loss I need to digest.
I feel for many friends who worked at the Rocky and who wound up going down with the ship. I hope they'll be able to surface elsewhere. It will be difficult for many. They all deserve a better fate.
Back in the day, I'd have gotten drunk. Now, I'll just reflect quietly on all the folks who passed through that place. Most of them labored in deep anonymity; you probably wouldn't know their names even if you read the News. Two buildings ago, some of them toiled late into the night, putting out a paper when the resources were slim and pats on the back were rare.
It would have been difficult for many of those folks to imagine a day when their paper -- and so many others -- would vanish. I'll say only this: It's to their credit that they would rather have been called newspaper people than journalists. Bless 'em all.