Jul 9, 2013 3 min read

Ever since the Saturday morning Mom ripped the bedcovers off me and announced I was going to work in my grandfather’s greenhouse – for which, at the age of 14, I was paid a whopping 10 cents an hour – I’ve had a job.

Some I enjoyed, some not so much. But I gained something from all of them, whether it was cleaning houses, working on the college’s maintenance crew, being a pharmacist’s assistant or acting as a youth counselor for delinquent boys.

My first newspaper job was for the former Democrat Messenger in Waynesburg. Less than a year later, I was hired at the Observer-Reporter. And now, after nearly 36 years here, I am retiring.

It’s hard to imagine a life without a job. But it’s time.

I’m still uncertain what I will do even though, when people ask, I usually respond with “whatever I want.”

But I do know this. As I’ve aged, time has become a very precious commodity. And right now it’s more precious than a paycheck.

So, yes, I will be spending time my with family, specifically our granddaughters who are still at an age when hanging out with Grandma is “cool” and my husband who has health issues. As I said, time is precious.

What will I miss? Deadlines? Walking the 34 stairs to the third floor? The late night or weekend calls? Not likely.

I will miss the buzz of the newsroom, the smart-alecky comments from co-workers when an offbeat story comes over the wire, the smell of ink as you walk in the side door.

My favorite job at the O-R was working in the photography darkroom. But those days are gone.

Some think newspaper reporters will be out of jobs soon, too, but I prefer this argument from Alex S. Jones, author of the book “Losing the News: the Future of the News that Feeds Democracy.” Jones writes that 90 percent of the core news that makes it to everything from the nightly news to “The Tonight Show” comes from a reporter. He writes, “While people may think they get their news from television or the Web, when it comes to this kind of news, it is almost always newspapers that have done the actual reporting. Everything else is usually just a delivery system.”

So, to my co-workers I say goodbye, good luck and God bless. I will think of you when the fire alarm sounds, or your 7 1/2-hour day turns into 10 hours because something happened, or if you are unfairly criticized because we expect online readers to pay for our product. I say this because I know the amazing job you are all doing.

And know that no matter what else I decide to do with my life, my day will always begin with getting my newspaper out of the box or logging on to the online edition, pouring a cup of coffee, and reading the news.