It's their fault. The reporting was weak; the front page showed Denver's unseasonably warm temperatures over the passage of the first bailout.
It's Craig's fault. If only he hadn't started that list.
It's my fault. I read the news online.
I grew up in a literate household—meaning more, of course, than just our ability to decode words. Papers were always on the kitchen table, the nightstands, the couch. I remember rushing home after the Oklahoma City bombing, Columbine, and 9-11 to read the Rocky. I planned many a weekend based off the Spotlight section. I growled about how the book-like format of the Rocky was so much better than the tablecloth-size of an opened Post. I devoured the comics. All past tense, including this: I haven't held a subscription in years. The Sunday Post-News lands on my driveway, but even many of these end up in the recycling bin, unopened.
The laptop, however, is opened daily. Indeed, I confess: I read about the paper's death online.
When listening to the English teachers lament the death of the Rocky, a history teacher commented: When's the last time you received a telegram? Of course communication devices evolve as a direct result of a community's communication needs. We know this. But in the great land that is America, the almighty buck communicates with the greatest volume. If good writers working in an industry with tested, proved ethical standards and practices are no longer being paid…well…
Like any good English teacher, I must quote Faber from Fahrenheit 451: "First the newspapers went, dying like great giant moths." I worry about the far-reaching consequences of the extinction of our more traditional literary formats. Many in the news industry are arguing for pay-to-read information; I highly doubt those reading their news online with go with this retroactive scheme.
So, RIP RMN. My best wishes to those who are now unemployed, including a balanced news city.
