Just like old times…sort of.

Part of the reason I managed to survive the first 10 months out of journalism was due to my friend and former co-worker Julie. We left the Monterey Herald about the same time last year and our destination was Boston. She would be on a prestigious one-year journalism fellowship at Harvard and I trying to navigate pastoral ministry at Boston College. Well, the time has come for her to leave and gosh darn I'm a little sad.

Before we left California we had these grand dreams of what we would see and do while in the Northeast. We talked about what life would be like without a car. We wondered what good looking and well-dressed men we would meet in Boston. We cracked jokes about what it would be like to not be at the Herald.

She would invite me to events and bars in Cambridge. I would invite her to parties at my house where grad students gathered to talk ministry, politics and watch ‘The Office.’ Once in awhile we gathered in Cambridge to talk office stuff like what editors from the Herald were saying or if anyone was laid off. Or sometimes it was just a chance to talk about the journalism industry or talk about our friends.

Repeatedly she asked if I missed journalism.. And I do miss parts of it. I miss the people and the pace of life in Monterey. I miss the cynical folks in the newsroom and the police scanner. I would also miss the occasional night shift where I spent way too long listening to tales of woe from my cop and firefighter friends.

We managed to persevere through an academic year. We wrote fantastic papers and participated in lively discussions. I feel that the leap from journalism to ministry would have been tough without her. She always had exciting stories about classes she was taking or events she was invited to attend such as meeting Archbishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa. How friggin cool is that?
Journalists always have the craziest stories.

When and if I needed a journalism fix I called or e-mailed her. I wanted to know the inside scoop or what big stories were being told. At times I wanted to feel like I was still in the mix of daily journalism.

A few mutual friends came to visit during the year and it was nice catching up on their lives and newspapers. We’d raise a glass of wine to celebrate change and our desire to pursue our dreams. It seemed nice to breathe a sigh of relief, even if it was temporary.

She goes back to the Herald and to sunny California.. And I have another frigid winter ahead of me. Last night I was invited to attend a farewell party for her and a few of her colleagues in Cambridge. For a moment I was taken back to my days as a newspaper reporter as everyone around me talked about stories, projects or goals that were up next. And like any good party that Julie invites me to, it starts early and goes until very late. But that’s the sign of good people, good vibes and darn good fun.