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.