The Sun Sets In San Bernardino

Good-bye.

I've said that word before.

Reporter Ryan Carter helps to remove The Sun sign.

And as a 21-year veteran of The Sun newspaper,
I've said it plenty of times.

I've said good-bye to co-workers who've moved back east,
editors that I was sad to see go,
and editors that I couldn't wait to see leave.

The hardest good-byes have been to fellow friends and photographers
who lost their jobs due to cutbacks.

I also, like plenty of my co-workers, have said good-bye to

vacation accruals, raises, and a percentage of our salaries.

Opinion writer Jessica with the Letter S

And of course, I've said good-bye to The Sun's downtown office

in 2005 when we moved to northern San Bernardino.

And after all this: I remain.  

But this time good-bye seems a little different.

I guess its because this time, we're saying good-bye 

to an era that has passed.

As I return to downtown, I reflect back to many differences in my job and the business that simply are not present or have changed.

A view of the break room where the TV was always ON.

I was hired straight out of Cal State San Bernardino for my B/W printing abilities. Now I'm a digital photographer.  No longer does my work have a 24 hour life-span, it exists in until the next upload bumps it off the website.

We used to use CB radios back then. My code name was Photo7. Now, I get a text from my editors or an email.

The Sun had approximately 300 + employees back in the 1990's.  The Photo Department had a staff of seven back then.  Now I'm part of tight knit staff of three at my paper, and eight total if you include our sister papers The Inland Valley Bulletin and the Redlands Daily Facts. 

I remember being the first staffer to work at the new office back in October of 2005. I was

on the night shift, was reading Stephen King's The Shining, but enjoyed being creeped

out that I was the only one in the building.  I think I saw a Coyote running around 

as I went to my car that night. OR was that a werewolf?

The building came alive with shapes & shadows.

As we leave behind this big beautiful building we leave 

behind the remoteness that was actually refreshing if you 

had your lunch outside in the patio area.  Until the train that 

separated us from Muscoy came.  At 9, 12, and 2.

We leave behind a two-story giant that had the potential of 

housing most of our Inland Division staffers.  And we got

pretty close there for a while.  But change had come and 

kept on coming.  Our industry was changing even before the

economy took its downturn.  The job stayed fun and satisfying. 

The challenge came in staying focused on the

integrity of our stories in an environment of readers that consumed 

news when they wanted, how they wanted and in

ways that didn't exist a generation ago.

Quickly, we had to not only adapt, but make the case for our viability.

We still do.

After 40 years, columnist John Weeks packs up for the 2nd time.

The Sun has been good to me:

It gave an oil painting artist an opportunity to make a living as a photographer, when he had no idea what he was going to do with his life.

Thanks to the company match on my 401K, The Sun helped my wife and I 

buy our little 1929 home in Riverside.

And with plenty of chances to work OT or a holiday, The Sun has helped me to afford 

raising two kids, and adding onto our house. 

As a journalist, I get a front row seat to a range of adventures from flying in a Cessna, to feeling the

Class of '91: Me, Dave Creamer, Gina Ferazzi, & Mark Zaleski.

flames of the 2003 Old Fire, to seeing a family welcome home their son back home from Afghanistan.  I was  2-feet from President

Clinton at Norton Air Force Base and got within 100 feet of Cindy Crawford at the University of Redlands.

While those are great memories, I live for that 20% of my job that makes it all worth while. Those are the moments that I can barely describe.  Those quiet moments when you are allowed to capture the type of humanity that brings tears to your eyes and nobody sees it cause there's a camera in front of your face.

A piece of the Rock: I saved a tile from the Fox Building on D Street.

 The thing that The Sun has always given me has been a FAMILY atmosphere at work.  The years have been filled with BBQs, potlucks, out-of-town events, and parities.  I truly cherish the friendships that I've developed through the years.  And I am still blessed to work with some folks who were here when I first started:

Nancy Kay- The Rock.  I remember photographing her for Employee of the Year early in my career.  She is always, calm and cool.

Louise Kopitch- The first person I met after I was hired.  I fell in love with that woman at first glance.  She has proven to be a friend I can confide in and someone who I can trust.

John Weeks- The Perpetual Class Clown.  Even on our my challenging days, John Weeks can always make me laugh.  We bond on the old days especially classic rock and pop culture.

Lupe Carrillo-  Lupe has been familia to me from the start.  Always smiling, very gentle, always teasing me.  But, she also knows when to ask if I'm doing okay. 

Shortly after I started in 1991, my dear friend Michel Nolan was hired.

Michel is a very special friend.  We have shared life's laughs and tears.  We share faith and dreams together.  She is my truly my Forever Friend.  We take care of each other.

One last portrait of those that remain.

And so we move forward to a new and different phase of our careers.

And our lives.

Hebrews 11:1 reads 

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see."

As I face a future that I cannot see, I trust God for an even brighter time for all of us at The Sun.

I look forward to the challenge of becoming better, stronger, faster:  DIGITAL.

The new day is upon us.  Those of us who still like the smell and feel of books, magazines, and newspapers in our hands are living and working in a world that is now digitized.  

And becoming more so everyday.

And so as we head back downtown, I leave with my memories and dreams.  

I fight the temptation to think this is part of the end-game.

I realize that Glen Campbell captured a lot of what I'm feeling right now 

from his song Rhinestone Cowboy: 

The sun sets on The Sun building on N. Georgia Blvd.

 Where hustle's the name of the game

And nice guys get washed away like the snow and the rain

There's been a load of compromisin'

On the road to my horizon

But I'm gonna be where the lights are shinin' on me

So, yes The Sun sets yet again.

But only to rise once more.

Like a Rhinestone Cowboy.

Just One Look: The Fashion of Route 66

"Just one look. " So sang Doris Troy from her 1963 hit.

That's all it took for me to come up with a new idea in covering the annual Route 66 Rendezvous in San Bernardino.  After covering for nearly 20 years, I needed a change-up.

After noticing a man & his daughter all dolled up in vintage style, I decided to do a B/W portrait series of folks who dressed-up like the 1950's or 1960's.  For each caption, I added a song title to try and further capture what I felt each subject was evoking with their attire.

 At an event like this, you'll find that nostalgia is alive and well.  Any reader of this blog knows that I'm a big fan of yesteryear.  Everybody has a different reason for being nostalgic about a variety of things.  For me the music of my youth holds a special place in my heart.  But as grow older, I've found I seek to be nostalgic about things from my parent's era and even my grandparent's time.

All of the guys & dolls in my photos had their own reasons.  Many of which had to do with evoking a style or an attitude they found themselves suited to.  So here are the shots and their short bios:

"I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire"--Katie Troudt, 33, nuzzles David Martinez, 35, both of Palm Springs, in downtown San Bernardino September 15, 2012.   Martinez sports an early 1960's look that he uses daily.  Troudt invokes a style inspired by Rita Hayworth.

"Rebel Rouser"--Von Hot Rod sports a pompadour with his 1960's style in downtown San Bernardino September 13, 2012. 







 

"Runaway"--Eric Macgreggor, 23, and his sister Tauni, 18, strike a pose in front of a 1960 Ford Sunliner parked along E Street in downtown San Bernardino September 14, 2012.  Eric is displays a Greaser look while his sister shows off a Psychobilly look.







 



 "Pretty Little Angel Eyes"--Nadia Gil, 28, of San Bernadino, sports a 1950's era style in downtown San Bernardino September 13, 2012.

"Baby You Can Drive My Car"--"Bo" sports a 1960's era style from the front seat of Gilbert Botello's 1969 Ford Galaxie 500 XL in downtown San Bernardino September 15, 2012.

"Come See About Me"--Charlene Juarez, 25, of Colton, sports a juvenile delinquent look in downtown San Bernardino September 13, 2012.

"Be-Bop-A-Lula"-- Jessica Lucero, 21, and Marshall Franey, 22, both of Barstow, strut their  Rockabilly style in downtown San Bernardino September 16, 2012.   "I just love the culture and the way people carry themselves," said Franey of the 1950's.  "It shows a pride in what you do and how you look."

 "Papa's Got A Brand New Bag"--Joseph Sanford, of Corona, jokes with daughter Dia Poole, of Sacramento, along E Street in downtown San Bernardino September 14, 2012.  They stand in front of Sanford's 1962 Cadillac Sedan Deville.  "Its just a good time to come out and spend some quality time with my dad," says Poole of their annual date at the Route.  "Who knows one of these days he just might give me those keys." 

An American Son

God & Country:  The casket of Pfc. Davis is taken from Yucaipa Christian Church amongst flag bearers.

They came from the neighborhood.
They came from as far as La Mirada, Dallas-Texas and Michigan.

They came flying the Red, White, and Blue.

They came to say “Thank You” and “Good-Bye” to Pfc. Tyler Davis of Yucaipa, CA.

Young kids learn about being an American.

They brought their children, their prayers, and their tears.What they brought in large doses was their gratitude.

Pfc. Tyler Davis, 20, was killed June 9 in Afghanistan
when his convoy vehicle struck a roadside bomb
during combat operations in the city of Tore Obeh. 

I, like many in attendance did not know him.  Yet, I imagine that Davis was an American Son, like all of our sons.  He was probably a typical boy with all that comes with it.  He had friends, a favorite movie, a favorite game to play.  He probably had a girl he was sweet on.  But one day, the boy became a man and he made a decision to serve our country.  Then Tyler began doing the work of a man:  a man who served the United States with duty and honor.

Even those who did not know him, mourned for him & his family.

  

On this day, my flag was waving in my heart because my hands were filled with the tools of my trade.  But as I worked, my heart, prayers, and tears went out to the family left behind.

For on this day, even amongst the diversity of the crowds there was no separation - myself included.  Everybody was united:  the young and the old, the near and the far, even the Diablos and the Vagos motorcycle groups.  They were all united under one common truth:  We live and breathe freedom because of the sacrifice of brave men and women who protect that freedom.

In 1864, Abraham Lincoln wrote a letter to Lydia Bixby, the mother of five sons believed to have died in battle during the Civil War.  In it he wrote some elegant words which I offer the Davis family in their time of grief:

I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours, to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of Freedom.

The road to Sunnsylope Cemetery was lined with fellow

A Color Guard leads the Davis family into Sunnyslope Cemetery in Beaumont, CA.

Desiree & Kirk Davis hold roses at the close of funeral services

 Everyone in attendance, whether they were in 

the church, on the street, or at Sunnyslope Cemetery knows what President Lincoln was talking about.  Freedom isn’t free.  There is a cost.  

We are Americans.  We fight for what we believe in.  We fight for freedom, because we know that true freedom comes from God.  We know that He has separated our Country to be greatest nation in the world, and we know that blessing must be protected.  And when one of our American Sons die in service, we all feel a piece of that sacrifice, because without it there is no freedom.

Desiree Davis places a kiss goodbye on her son's casket

We must remember those sacrifices when enjoy our freedoms, however simple they may be:

When we breathe fresh air on our morning jogs
When we worship as we please
When we speak as we wish
Every time we cast a vote

Every time we do things that in other countries people die for, we must remember that freedom isn’t free.

The Davis family knows that.

 I join the thousand that day that came to say:

“God bless you Pfc. Davis!”

“Thank you for your service.”

An Honor Guard prepares to deliver the U.S. Flag to the Davis family.

Greater love has no one than this: 

to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. (John 15: 13)

How Deep Is Your Love

...And its me you need to show
How deep is your love?

So sang the Bee Gees in their smash hit song from 1977.  The song from the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack was a #1 hit on the U.S. charts and reached #3 in the U.K. But for Bee Gees fans everywhere, the song is still charting in the reaches of our hearts and memories.

The Bee Gees have always held a special place in my life.  And as I heard the news about Robin Gibb’s death last week, those memories came flooding back.  The songs and the story of the Brothers Gibb have also held an uncanny parallel to moments in my own life.  While I was born in 1967, I was truly a child of the ‘70’s and I often tell people “I’m from the '70’s.”  The Bee Gees released some of their biggest hits in that musically important year:  New York Mining Disaster, To Love Somebody, and Holiday.

Classics Bee Gees & a Barry Gibb production from the late '70's.

I just the right age when the Bee Gees took over the airwaves and much of Pop Culture from 1977-79.  The first album that came into our home was the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack (Dec. 1977).  We had Disco Fever like almost everybody else.  I remember later going to GECMO and my Dad getting my Mom the Here At Last...Bee Gees Live album (May 1977).  We played the hell out of it as well, but it didn’t compare to those magical songs of Fever.

Not the Brothers Gibb, but "The Boys":  Mark, Philip, and Gabe

Back then it was easy to be a Bee Gees fan.  They were simply everywhere!  You had the awesome video of Stayin' Alive featuring those white jumpsuits, the Fever soundtrack, Barry Gibb writing/producing the Grease Soundtrack, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, and of course the endless hits. Beginning in Christmas 1977 the Bee Gees penned the following #1 Hits:  Staying Alive, How Deep Is Your Love, Night Fever, I Just Want To Be Your Everything, (Love Is) Thicker Than Water (for Andy Gibb), and If I Can’t Have You (for Yvonne Elliman). They held the No.1 spot on the U.S. Charts for 25 of 32 consecutive weeks.

My sister thought Barry & Barbra were married!

As kids, our personal SaturdayNight Fever happened when we arrived home from 5:15 Mass on Saturday nights.  We’d typically have hamburgers, and while mom was cooking we’d be playing disco with our records in the living room. We’d eat, watch the Muppets & Dance Fever with Deney Terrio, then play Bee Gees songs and the like.  We’d take turns using flashlights with colored construction paper taped to them, to simulate a disco ball.

As I look back now, I see how deep the Bee Gees were in my life.  Their music, with its vocal harmonies, its peaceful sways, and poignant lyrics reminds me of a simpler time.  It reminds me of a time before technology:  we had time for each other and music was the soundtrack of the memories we were making.

Growing up in the ‘70’s, there was us three brothers and my sister.  But in our family, it was always

Circa 1988: Former Disco Kingpins. Yes, I was still in corduroy

about the boys:  "The boys are coming”, “The boys are going?” “What are the boys doing?"  In many ways it was just us three.  We’d play together.  We’d mow lawns together.  We spent Friday nights at Grandma and Grandpa’s together.  Like the Bee Gees, we were a family of talent.  I was the artist & a later photographer.  My brother Mark was the journalist and story teller.  Philip was the musician & now web designer.  My sister Christina became a creative writer and teacher.  And later my brother Michael became a graphic artist.

When I hear the Bee Gees,  I am reminded not only of their great music but of the interesting parallels & coincidences that I have placed upon our different, yet sometimes similar stories:

SNF opened on Dec. 16, 1977

-The Gibb family had three boys, plus one:  Andy.  Our family had three boys, then later we added one more:  my brother Michael.

-Saturday Night Fever was released in 1977, on my mother’s birthday: December 16.

-My brother Philip was tall and skinny with long hair, like Robin Gibb.

-We have a strong family of siblings, but we brothers have always had a strong bond like the Brothers Gibb.

In 2003, I made my own CD of all the Bee Gees non-disco hits.

-The Bee Gees moved past the era of their hits, but always came "back home" to them, keeping the songs that made them stars close to their hearts.  We also moved past those songs, but at least for me, I came back to them realizing their depth and beauty in my adult life- never again feeling the need to apologize for being a Bee Gees fan.

-In 1998, my Aunt died in Texas, leaving my Dad with only one sibling:  his brother Victor.  In a very special trip, my brother Mark and I journeyed with my Dad and our Uncle Vic to Texas for the funeral:  two pairs of brothers.  For them, they were the youngest in their family; for us we were the oldest.  Twice the Bee Gees made a similar trek as brothers to a sibling's funeral:  The Bee Gees in 1988 for Andy Gibb's funeral and Robin and Barry to Maurice's funeral in 2003. 

In 2001, I got word when I was in Brazil that my uncle, my father’s last brother, had died.  I grieved at the thought that my father had no brothers left.  For at that point you are no longer a brother anymore, but someone who once was a brother.  I can only imagine what my father then, and what Barry Gibb is feeling now at the reality of losing all your brothers.  My dad had five, Barry had three.

Brothers:  My Dad John M. "Chet" Acosta & his brother Vic:  on the way to Texas in 1998.

 -In 2005, when my father was dying of heart failure the Bee Gees song How Can You Mend A Broken Heart came on the radio as I was leaving the hospital one day.  In that moment, the lyrics took on a new meaning for me:

And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can can you mend this broken man...
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again

The song came on at a time when the doctors had told us that my Dad was living with only 33% of his heart functioning--a physically broken heart.  And there was nothing we could do to stop it--like stopping the rain or the sun.  And we wanted to mend my Dad’s broken heart so that he could continue to live.  A year later, in grief counseling I learned that the death of a loved one breaks your heart, and that your heart will be forever fractured.

After my Dad’s death,  I assembled a group of songs on CD that were from different eras of his life.  How Deep Is Your Love rose up to represent not only that time in our lives, but the quiet, calm man my father was.  There is a peace in that song that is very representative of him.

Brothers:  My Uncle Vic & my Dad; My brother Mark & me in 1998.

-Lastly, I read April 21, 2012 that Robin Gibb was roused from his coma after the family had played him music and Barry Gibb sang to him in his hospital bed.  In 2005, my father also recovered from a coma three days after having a heart attack that we were certain would take his life.  We spoke to him, but heard later from a nurse that the Beethoven music we'd left in the room (my Dad’s favorite music) got him moving his head back and forth in rhythm.

And so we fans mourn the loss of of Robin Gibb, author of some of the sweetest sounds of harmony displayed in those early Bee Gees songs.  Those of us who are brothers, mourn personally Barry’s loss of his brothers.  We children of the '70’s mourn and sweetly remember the days gone by when the Bee Gees ruled the world.  To Barry, Maurice, Robin, and Andy Gibb I thank you for a lifetime of musical memories, that has been my soundtrack as the world has changed all around me.

....Cause we’re living in a world of fools
Breaking us down
When they all should let us be
We belong to you and me