The Tie That Binds

I'm finally back from the driving adventure of Rochester -> Norwich -> Binghamton -> Rochester, and I realized that in saying goodbye to Jim, we are all saying goodbye to a part of ourselves. I look back on the Rolodex of face I saw weaving through the quaint Norwich funeral home and remember this is just a glimpse of a cross-section of the people who moved in and out of Jim's life.

Although I haven't been through the Press doors in nearly four years, I know it will never have the same buzz and life that it once did. Maybe it's because there is no Jim or maybe because newspapers and the newsroom culture are becoming an antiquated memory.

It's unfortunate that a loss of a friend like Jim brings so many of us together to swap stories and family pictures. But I think that in saying goodbye to Jim, we are finally saying goodbye to the news culture we all know, remember and love.

I feel truly blessed to have experienced good old fashioned news and more importantly the lifeblood of the Press. Some of us became reporters because we are curious, while others want to become writers, save the world or become the next Woodward and Bernstein.

There will always be a tie that binds, a haven for creative and curious types such as ourselves where we actually feel like we fit in. It's a place where intellectual debate and creativity is embraced. Although we're scattered all over the country (and in some cases the world), I know we all feel the same loss. We'll all remember Jim, and we'll all remember each other and how our paths crossed.

Thank you all for the reminder today. Jim, thanks for being titan that brought us together once again and allowed us remember. . . and laugh a little.