End of the line
J. Kevin Tumlinson

I was shocked to hear the news that the Angleton Times, the very first newspaper to pick up my column, had closed its doors suddenly. The announcement came on Saturday, and basically went something like, “This is our last issue. So long.” That's it. No warning. No pause for reflection. Just “See ya on the next go around.”

I know I've said it before, but I'm a pretty sentimental guy. This paper was the first to show any interest in printing my stuff every week and to see it fold makes me feel a little sad. It's like watching your favorite TV show go off the air. There were quirks, there were characters, and there was a personality that you had become accustomed to, and now all of that is gone.

“All good things come to an end,” the adage goes. I can accept that, but what bothers me is that it doesn't say, “all good things come to a GOOD end.” Sometimes a business folds, a couple separates, or a band splits up and you just don't hear a good reason for it. With the Times, it's all about bad economics. Readership was as high as ever, but the money just dried up. The publisher sold out to a local rival and that was the end of that particular piece of history.

And yet, here we are, still carrying on. Isn't it always like that? In the aftermath, we are sitting here wondering what happened and how it could have been prevented. But we still lost something… some small part of ourselves that we may never recover.

When I was very young, probably around six or seven, my great grandmother died. At the time, I was still in that frame of mind where the universe revolves around my wants and needs, and feels everything I feel. I remember watching television and seeing the people, smiling and laughing, singing and carrying on. I remember thinking, “Why are they so happy? Don't they realize that my great grandmother died today?”

I think that may have been the first time that I began to realize that not everyone is looking at life with the same eyes as mine. It was my first stretch into the territory of individuality, and my understanding that everyone experiences their own life, their own set of circumstances.

That's what endings do for us. They show us life's abruptness and they force us to change our perspective.

I've had a lot of endings in my life. People I loved have passed away, jobs I liked have ended, and newspapers that gave me a shot have closed down. But maybe the lesson I'm supposed to take from all of these endings is that they aren't endings at all. They're just a change in direction.

I'm here to say “farewell” to the Angleton Times. She was a modest but well respected newspaper, serving her town faithfully for many years. She didn't break a lot of earth-shattering, society-changing headlines, but she always showed up at the ball. Here's to her and all of the other small publishers out there, holding out to the very end of the line.

J. Kevin Tumlinson is the Editor for ViewOnline Magazine at www.viewonline.com . He is a Houston Baptist University graduate with degrees in English and Communications. You can reach him by e-mail at kevin@viewonline.com . He's always last in line.