“I became a journalist to come as close as possible to the heart of the world.” ~ Henry Luce
As I sit here at 4 p.m. on Friday afternoon composing my thoughts for this column, one can’t help but reflect upon the latest in a long line of tragic shootings to touch the nation, this time at the headquarters of the Capital Gazette, an Annapolis newspaper founded in 1727. Among the five fatalities were veteran editors, writers and reporters, as well as a sales assistant to the staff. To think that a random act of violence on an otherwise average day could at once shatter so many lives is quite jarring.
Of course, we as a society have become all too accustomed to dealing with tragedies of this sort; places that were once deemed to be “safe” can no longer be guaranteed so. Schools, churches, movie theaters . . . the list goes on and on. Year after year, these senseless acts have invaded our societal comfort zone, making it increasingly difficult to look the other way. There is simply no rhyme or reason to the madness and where it may strike next.
Of course, being of the journalism profession and working in an office much like the one brought to its knees last Thursday, this particular incident resonates on a slightly deeper level. The sentiment expressed by one Gazette reporter in the immediate aftermath of the shooting, “I can tell you this: we are putting out a damned newspaper tomorrow,” is one that rings true for nearly every publication through history that has been faced with a measure of adversity.
From storms and natural disasters to power outages, union strikes and the like, journalism is one of the few industries that seldom “stops the presses” for any reason. Just a few years ago, many local community newspapers were faced with the prospect of not publishing in the wake of Hurricane Sandy, as the majority of Long Island remained without power in the days and weeks following. But ultimately, the need to forge ahead, to provide readers with a lifeline to their surroundings, prevailed.
As promised, the Capital Gazette came out with its Friday edition, the headline “5 Shot Dead at the Capital” splashed across the front cover. Simple. And yet so far from simple. Within the paper were written articles covering the attack and photos of the victims. But perhaps most poignant was the page normally reserved for opinions and editorials, which was left blank. In the white space were the words:
Today, we are speechless. This page is intentionally left blank to commemorate the victims of Thursday’s shooting at our office.
What followed were the names of the five employees who were killed, one to a line.
At the end of the day, there is really not much more to say.
Published: July 4, 2018