"I'm going to cry"

There's no easy way to call your wife and tell her you've lost your job. There's no easy way to e-mail your contacts and tell them your company is closing its doors. There's no easy way to carry home a box of personal effects.

In case you missed the news, the Washington Blade abruptly closed today. Begun in the aftermath of the Stonewall Riots, the Blade was the nation's LGBT newspaper of record. Our culture will be all the poorer for its loss.

I can not — and dare not — even attempt to explain what led to the Blade's closure today. It's a convoluted tale to which I know few details. The full story may some day be told through court documents associated with the liquidation of our parent company, Window Media, but I'll skip that ghastly read. It would seem a bit too much like reading one's own autopsy report.

In the meantime, I'm trying to stay positive. Was today rough? Of course it was. Would I wish a similar experience on my worst enemy? I would not. But let's not end on the negative. My time at the Blade was full of happy memories and great people. I won awards. I gave voices to amazing folks that wouldn't otherwise be heard. And I met George Lucas while covering the Democratic National Convention. Seriously, how cool is that?

I remain deeply indebted to Kelly Carson, my predecessor and the news editor who took a chance on this Minnesota transplant; Kevin Naff, the Blade's editor and man who promoted me to new editor; and Lou Chibbaro, Chris Johnson and Amy Cavanaugh, three fantastic reporters with whom I had the pleasure of working. And to my many, many sources throughout the years: Thank you for sharing your lives and your views with me. I hope I did them justice.

To be sure, the final hours at our offices in the National Press Building were emotional. More than once did the people around me seem on the verge of tears. And the man burdened with disseminating the letters of termination confided to me at one point before turning away: "I'm going to cry."

I, too, am likely to cry before this night is done. But to help me through the tears are the many positive and affirming memories I'm keeping with me. That and a lesson my gay friends imparted: I will survive.