All things come to an end. And so it is with OTTERBLOG. Rather than drag out the musings of a lame duck, I’ve decided to make this my last post. I thought about doing various top 10 lists—best stories I’ve covered, worst stories I’ve covered, worst stories I’ve written, craziest things ever said in a newsroom, but the memory goes before the knees, and my knees are no longer that good.

For those of you who never took Latin, Sine Die means “without day,” and it is the traditional closing words at many legislative bodies, implying that this session is closed. And so it is with this blog. It will go dark at 5 tomorrow. And I’ve turned off the comments on this; for once in my life, I get the last word.

So let me get serious for a second, and please indulge me if I wander.

I’ve known for most of my career that it is a privilege to be a journalist. The pay is lousy. The hours can be brutal. You’re hated. Or, worse, ignored. The privilege comes in the freedom. The freedom to write the truth. To speak the truth. It is incredible. The joy I experience in writing is secondary. It’s the fact that we can do it that is so amazing.

Journalism is in crisis. It’s silly to argue about whether it’s the rise of the internet, the Wall Street obsession of Big Media, the arrogance of editors (including this one), the fragmenting of America, or any number of other factors that caused the problems. The docs in the ER don’t argue about whether the heart attack was caused by smoking or eating. They worry about saving the patient. Which is what we should be worried about. It’s fair to say that a democracy needs journalism as much as journalism needs democracy. And I worry about what a post-journalism democracy would look like or if that’s even sustainable.

I don’t have answers, although I intend to keep looking for them. But I would offer up this small piece of wisdom/advice. Subscribe to your local paper. It will make you a better citizen. And it gives you a stake in its quality. I listen to everybody who calls and try to respond to their concerns. That said, I listen harder to the people who tell me they take the paper. They are paying customers.

I had the privilege this morning of being a judge at the spelling bee at Cook Elementary School, where I have tutored for many years. The principal there, Ted Burcaw, is very inspiring, and he spoke about the power of words. And while I know his primary audience was the children, I felt at times that he was talking directly to me. Words matter. And they have the ability to move mountains. It’s easy to forget the strength and precision found in 26 letters.

Before I sign off, a few thank yous

Joe Goodman. For hiring me at the Journal. Twice.
Jim Laughrun. For setting the example for effort, integrity and organization.
Carl Crothers. For making the newsroom believe in itself. Every great team needs a great coach.
Bill Turner. Fishing buddy and former columnist. The best thinker I know.
Phoebe Zerwick. For having talent equal to her heart.

The Journal newsroom. For a work ethic and professionalism that is second-to-none.
Our other departments—circulation, production and advertising. We are only as good as the papers we print, deliver and pay for.
Our readers—both paying and non-paying. I’ve enjoyed the conversation.

And for my family and friends. For being there. Always.
And for JoAnne, for giving me the courage to take the next step.

That’s all. See you in the real world.

Posted by Ken Otterbourg in • General
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