Field of Steve

For a couple of years I thought about Friday.

More than a year ago following another round of layoffs I wondered whether it was time to get out of the journalism business. I thought at the time, rightly as it turns out, that as long as I didn’t pull off a major blunder I could probably make it to Friday. So I opted to put off any thoughts of making a career change, until I hit the 10-year mark in journalism.

A couple of months ago I learned of an opening in a position that seemed would be the next logical, and more stable, place to go. The only problem I saw was that it would likely begin before the 10-year anniversary I had committed myself to.

On July 31, 1999 the culmination of months of work resulted in an orientation at The Daily Herald in Provo. I wanted to be in the Northwest, but I guessed the newspaper there would be a step.

The irony now is that the same force that made it possible for me to get a job is the one that’s making it difficult for me and others to hang on now. In the late 1990s the Internet was creating new opportunities for writers, not reducing them. With venture capitalists unwisely throwing money at any start-up Internet venture, the online community was flush with opportunity, including online news sites. That meant many traditional journalists were leaving newspapers for online sites. The plus for me was newspapers had openings. The Daily Herald, after some unknowingly clever angling on my part, offered me a job as a religion reporter, which a few months later turned into a city government/higher education job.

A year and a few months later the Internet was still a rising market that gave me the chance to weigh the difference between three different job offers in the state of Washington. There probably would have been a fourth in Oregon. In fact, after months of sending out resumes and clips, I finally managed to put a packet together that generated interest. An Oregon paper called first and talked about having me come up. I then called one of the papers in Washington, saying I was probably going to go interview in Oregon, but didn’t want to miss an opportunity should it be there. Somehow two more papers became interested and I told the Oregon paper I probably wasn’t going to be available anymore. All three Washington papers made offers. We picked the one that paid the most and put us in a place with a quality of life more to our liking.

The bottom fell out of the Internet and the stock market that had funded it a few weeks after I started the new job, but I was where I wanted to be, even if covering business wasn’t my first love. A couple of years later I had a chance to interview with a paper closer to Seattle, and with one of the papers that had offered me a job before. We chose Seattle-area and have been here since. Back then the papers were competing for me, working with my experience to see how high they could lift me up on the union pay scale. It was a nice place to be in. Again we made our choice based on where in the world we wanted to be.

Throughout the past seven years we’ve watched the Internet, and I suppose I shouldn’t ignore other factors, erode and then blast newspapers’ ability to make a profit. At first there was a divide in the industry between those who dismissed the technology’s long-term impact and those who predicted the Web would forever alter the news landscape and try different ways to climb aboard the wave. I was in the second group, learning how to do slide shows, blogging and video. We weren’t seeing a lot of revenue at first, but we thought if we grew we’d see a perhaps difficult, but moderate, transition between print and online revenues.

Three years ago the company announced a first round of layoffs. There were buy-out offers. Some retired. Some fled. From what I can tell they’re all doing OK or better than they were. The next year there were another six, with tougher requirements for accepting the buyouts. Last year, following what turned out to be the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression, there were no buy-out offers, just layoffs. Our two top managers were among the group to leave.

We were right that our audience would grow online. The problem was that advertising became cheaper. Where we were once getting 7 cents a hit on the blogs it shrunk to about 1.5 cents. Meanwhile the good news about print circulation was when it didn’t sink. This year we got a new publisher. The new guy said there would be cost-cutting measures before next year. The union contract expires in January.

So about that offer. I seriously considered not going after it, because by then I had bought into the idea that 10 years in the business was important. The opportunity, however, was exactly the kind of work I would want to do next. So I opted to go after it. I created what I thought was the best resume and cover letter I had ever written. It was good enough to get me invited to undergo a writing assignment. After a couple of follow-up calls I remained a contender, but then the phone fell silent. I assumed I hadn’t been hired. I kept looking for the rejection letter. Eventually I did get it, but not before the potential employer called to tell me personally that someone else had been picked, but that I had done quite well. Of the writing assignment I was told I did “great.” Though I wasn’t hired, my work would be shared with others if I was willing. I was.

Rejection notices are obviously not as good as job offers, but since I had already determined that I hadn’t been hired, getting the call was a compliment. It gives me hope that even in this sour economy I may be in good position should I decide to move on from reporting.

Not getting the job also pretty much assured I’d make to my 10-year mark. That came Friday.

On that day I turned in three stories, one from the night before, one that had been planned earlier and another one that surfaced later. Another employee was leaving, so we had a potluck for her farewell. I went to Barnes & Noble and bought a book I’d already read but wanted to have myself. The next day I took my nephew on the ferry to Seattle to try out a burger joint. We took the ferry back so I could drive through the new $54 million tunnel I’ve had the chance to write about.

As my final act of acknowledging the day, I’m writing this.

The title above indicates where I am. I’ve said for a long time that I believe journalism, particularly newspapers, will survive. I’m not as certain that I’ll be a part of it. I said I wouldn’t consider anything other than a dream job before bailing on the 10-year mark. Now that I’ve hit that number, I’ve allowed my options to open. It’s not that I’m willing to take anything that pays more. It’s just that the range of things I think I would enjoy has expanded. It could be that I stay in journalism for the rest of my life. But I distinctly remember a day not so long ago that I thought that I wanted to go out of this life as a newspaper man. Now I’m grateful, extremely so, for the 10 years I’ve had. It’s an amazing job. At least once or twice a week I giggle that I’m getting paid to do what I do. I’ve flown in little planes, interviewed celebrities including one who had a shot at becoming president, watched a NASCAR race from the pits, made a radio sweetheart really angry and in some cases made a verifiable difference in my community. I’ve really been lucky, or blessed, or something like it.

The two things I know now are that I’m grateful and that now I’m on my way to 11. Whether I make it to 11 is something I’m willing to be unclear about. I had 10 years of having the best job there is, until the next one.