Skip to main content

Remembering what we lost

    This is the award-winning front page my newspaper colleagues put out on Sept. 12, 2001 in an all-hands-on-deck team effort that many are still talking about today on Facebook.  I was working on the TV side of the street at the time, having yet to "cross over" to print. In fact, that's where I was when the second plane hit, standing in the control room where I could see the horror happen on numerous monitors, as if one haunting image wasn't enough.
   So much has changed since then. Not only on a macro, i.e. world, level, but in my own professional microcosm. Most of my fellow reporters who covered the events of Sept. 11 have gone separate ways, leaving journalism for other, more stable professions. Newspapers are mere shadows of their former selves, with page counts that are, too often, laughably pathetic.
   Today, my heart is heavy remembering the lives lost in the worst American tragedy of my lifetime, and the subsequent decline of newspapers. I miss the way they were. I miss the way we were.


Nebraskim said…
As a former newspaper reporter, I completely agree with your sadness over the loss of the profession, Cathy. It's equally pathetic in local TV news now. Both our local stations and I suppose most now, have pared down to maybe one director or producer, no camera operators, and it's all remotely controlled by the anchors, who preload camera cues, etc. into a computer before the cast. But if something goes wrong, it's just a cascade of a disaster and trying to do a live breaking news cast is almost impossible. And then they wonder why no one watches, or if they do watch, it's for the humor of watching a train wreck.
Cathy Hamilton said…
Agreed, Kim. My former TV station is down to a skeleton crew and relying on way too much nat'l news when, back in the day, our advantage was being "uberlocal." So sad.

Popular posts from this blog

I'll be back after these messages

Boy, I thought I'd never see the old blog again after the whirlwind of life I've had - and am still having - this fall.  Thanks for not giving up on me.
First, the wedding in late October came off with only one hitch. (Don't get me started on over-extended wedding planners.) I ended up cobbling an outfit together from Chico's in taupe (my spin on the mother-of-the-groom mandate: Wear beige and keep your mouth shut), threw on a bunch of pearls and an autumnal pashmina, and did my own hair. Boom! Done. The beautiful Sunday evening wedding in the country culminated a week-long string of activities I have come to call Burning Man East due to the predominance of bonfires at various celebrations. Big fun, big exhaustion.
Three days after the newlyweds returned to Brooklyn, my son summoned the hubs to Game 5 of the World Series in Queens (in which the home team was playing the Mets.) The kid flew his old man to NYC,  bought tickets for themselves and two others, and put him u…

Sabi: Helping your medicine cabinet look hip

I've always said that the companies who figure out how to make aging cool will win baby boomers' hearts in the end (or, better yet, a decade or two before the end.) The stakes are high. There are 78 million of us and gazillions of dollars to be made on our inevitable decline. Enter Sabi. With a mission " create products that are intuitively and beautifully designed in order to infuse life’s daily rituals with delight," Sabi boasts that their products "marry superb functionality, simplicity, and aesthetics to make the most mundane to-dos – from taking your daily vitamins to taking out the trash – more enjoyable." I received this bevy of review samples in the mail yesterday: pill folio (aka: 'pill organizer'), dispenser, chopper, crusher and holster. I have to admit, I like the look - sleek, simple and utilitarian....although two of my friends have said they'd need 3 pill folios to hold all their supplements. (Sigh.) Still, I give it two…

Gray hair: A luxury anyone can afford.

I got one of those back-handed compliments on my gray hair from a stranger today: "I wish I could do it. But, I'm afraid of looking old....oh, gawd....but YOURS looks great... really!!" 
    No harm, no foul. It's happened before.
    Charla Krupp, author of "How Not to Look Old," once said, "it's such a luxury to be able to go gray. Because it is an aging look, and it means that you don't care about people knowing your age." 
    She was probably right. Thankfully, I've never been shy about stating my age - it's 56, for the record - or asking others their number, especially when playing 'Who do you know?' The gentler, albeit sneakier, way is asking the year they graduated high school, but sometimes I forget and just blurt it out, often taking people aback.
      But, does it bother me? The looking older part, I mean?
      No. But, admittedly, I'm married. I'm not in the meat market, the job market, or any othe…