The shock factor

I was laid off on July 31, 2009 - a Friday afternoon at 3 p.m., shortly after coming back from a story brainstorming session with a contact at Christus St. Vincent Regional Medical Center.

The layoff went something like this:

Everyone in the newsroom had heard rumors of possible furloughs, cutbacks or layoffs in the works, but those rumors also suggested reporters wouldn't be hit. Newsrooms are, however, festering rumor mills and sometimes it's good to take them with a grain of salt.

That Friday morning, the rumors became a little more clear after a memo went out to the staff, saying the equivalent of 12 positions had been cut through consolidation, switching some jobs to part time, closing some positions and layoffs.

The past tense wording of the memo seemed to indicate that the threat had passed, and whatever cuts were to be made had been made. But that turned out to be misleading.

Still, I was surprised when the managing editor came up to me at 3 p.m. and said he wanted to meet with me in the conference room.

In that meeting I was told that Friday was my last day of work, that I should clean out my desk and I was handed a few checks.

I was also told that I wasn't getting booted out of the door or anything, and that the layoff wasn't due to any performance problems, it was just that I was the last reporter hired.

I understand all that, and I had a good time working with the folks up there and don't bear anybody there any particular ill will.

But when, in my general state of shock, I wandered back to my desk to send a final e-mail out to my sources telling them it was nice working with them, I found that even before the powers that be had talked to me, my e-mail had been shut down.

That slap in the face aside however, I suppose the layoff wasn't a big surprise. All newspapers are shrinking and cutting costs, and financially, well, the ad revenue just isn't there anymore.

So I cleared my desk out in about an hour, said a quick goodbye to my friends and tried to not get choked up before driving back home to Albuquerque, where I've lived for the past 16 years.

And that's where this particular story will begin.