Today, I watched a man realize his job was gone.
As the editor walked out of the publisher’s office, his usual turbo-speed gait was mired in a sputtering gear.
He hugged his successor and said, “Take care of them now.”
He said goodbye to some fellow editors and quietly packed a few things.
It was time to leave forever.
As he approached the door, he paused, sighed … turned out the lights to his office and shut the door.
His five years of leadership had abruptly ended that January Friday.
With the newspaper’s finance director escorting him out, he glanced over the nearly empty newsroom and waved goodbye to me.
I wanted to say, “You’ll be missed.”
Instead, I froze. Said nothing.
I had just watched a man realize his job was gone.