If you haven’t noticed already, things have really started to change in downtown Hanover. New businesses keep cropping up and great opportunities wait in the wings.
One of the most recent changes has given me mixed feelings, however. Namely, the re-location of The Evening Sun offices.
I have not worked for the paper full time since 1998. I haven’t worked full time for any paper for almost 15 years. I manage to keep my toe dipped in the water via freelancing and writing this column. I just can’t shake the profession.
Even though I find myself comfortable in many situations and love my job, I feel incredibly comfortable when I walk into a newsroom. No place gave me that safe feeling like the 135 Baltimore Street office where I worked for six years.
Don’t get me wrong – the paper had to move. But that doesn’t mean I can’t cling to every ounce of sentimentality I can muster.
The old newsroom held so many great memories. Like the time I was really mad about how the holiday scheduling worked out, and I stalked out in a huff to go get some comfort food. I returned to find a sympathetic co-worker ready to take over my duties because he thought I might not come back.
Or the time I ran circles around the desks where the editors sat as people edited two of my stories on deadline. As soon as I got 75 percent of the way through answering a question from one, the other would need me immediately. I wish I had a pedometer on me at the time.
Or the time (or times) that I left my wallet or something like that laying around and someone hid it from me to try and teach me a lesson.
Or the time I felt my heart drop when my editor showed me a paper with a headline I wrote that had a golfer winning a tournament by three shits. I sunk into the chair, trying to think about what other jobs I could get after they fired me. Instead, he told me that I owed him one because he saw the mistake before the papers left the building. He wasn’t happy (with me or the people who should have caught my error), but it did give him a chance to do the whole “STOP THE PRESSES” routine. I’m pissed I didn’t have the foresight to save a copy of that page.
Or the time when I came back to help on a freelance basis and a friend tried to give me a tutorial on a layout system. I had to remind him that I set a lot of the stuff up and taught him how to use it at one point.
Or the many times we knocked off after a hard day and went to solve the world’s problems at a local bar. Thank goodness I have always lived within walking distance of the office.
Or the time I met a pretty woman there, a special person who ended up marrying me and making every day since then pretty darn great.
So it’s pretty obvious why that place means so much to me.
I got a chance to visit the new offices a week or so ago. I really liked what they did, from the open newsroom to the conference room overlooking the 116/194 intersection.
I also like how I can drive through town and see who is working late. Some of the best times I have ever had took place when only a few of us were there late at night.
Even though they have their own space, it will always bring back memories of the place where I felt most at home.
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