by Susan J. Demas
April 1, 2009

Graying and grimacing, Jack Lessenberry was an unusual sort of welcome wagon. But after moving to Michigan without knowing a soul, I was grateful for my new boss’s offer to take me to brunch.

Jack was eager to entertain with stories about getting shot at (twice) and the Peruvian delicacy of guinea pigs. I believe the beauty of the Hungarian version of the Soviet national anthem even came up. But once we started talking about my career, his darting smile disappeared.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” my editor asked.

I mumbled something about being a syndicated political and cultural columnist, and Jack was kind enough not to laugh. He was quick to help me map out a strategy to find a job with a bigger paper, and within five months I was packing up my cubicle.

That was almost five years ago — those halcyon days before the newspaper crash of ’09. The industry was changing, to be sure, and the job market wasn’t appetizing, particularly in Michigan. But there was still a semblance of meritocracy and no one dreamt that institutions like the Rocky Mountain News would ever shut their doors for good. Not even Jack, who often refers to himself as an “ol’ cynic” in columns.

But when we chatted last month about the industry, he took mild offense when I referred to him as that.

“I’m realistic,” he corrected me.

Fair enough. Even the eminently realistic Mr. Lessenberry said he couldn’t have predicted newspapers’ rapid demise, even though it was clear four or five years ago that the business model wasn’t working. Alas, the economy didn’t give papers time to retool. Like the domestic auto industry, the recession has ripped through the already tattered newspaper business and sped up the destruction.

Given the state of Michigan’s economy, it’s not surprising that we’re seeing some of the first casualties. The Ann Arbor News will disappear this year. The Detroit News and Detroit Free Press appear to be transitioning to an exclusively online model, and several mid-size Booth newspapers are scaling back the number of print editions each week. But Jack isn’t sold on the idea that all newspapers are losing money, noting that papers like the Battle Creek Enquirer and Lansing State Journal posted impressive profits for 2007.

Most of my friends and former colleagues aren’t putting their faith in a rebound and have hightailed it for jobs in politics, PR and nonprofits. I occasionally wake with night terrors thinking about the young interns I’ve recommended for various newspaper jobs and fellowships. I probably should have set them up as fry cooks at McDonald’s — it would have been a nicer gesture.

I’d hate to be trying to put my new journalism B.A. to use right now. That’s why I decided to call Jack, who lectures at Wayne State University in between jobs at the Toledo Blade, Michigan Radio and any number of side projects. He also helps “dozens and dozens and dozens” of people each year find jobs.

I ask him what advice he gives his students now.

Jack doesn’t miss a beat. “To do something else,” he says in that manic, 1930s newspaperman voice. “I tell them to think of themselves as a package of goods and services to offer people.”

The business is “too chaotic” right now, he says, papers shuffling in the background. One or two years ago, he urged his most dedicated pupils to try to hitch onto the AP, but there isn’t even job security with the wire services nowadays. Most are first-generation college students from poor and working-class families. It would be irresponsible at this point to tell them to go for it in print journalism. Instead of trying to train the next generation of Helen Thomases, Jack now sees his job as giving kids “survival skills.”

Not surprisingly, his students are “dismayed.” It’s usually too late for juniors and seniors to change their major, so they instead have to alter their career expectations — sometimes drastically. Many of them want to be on TV or the Internet, so they might be all right. But with the industry shifting as rapidly as it is, anything seems like a crapshoot right now.

So what’s the solution? Jack notes there’s legislation by U.S. Senator Ben Cardin (D-Maryland) that would allow newspapers to convert to nonprofits and reap the benefit of tax-exempt status. But with all eyes on Wall Street (and in Michigan on the Big Three) the idea hasn’t caught fire. Perhaps enough people will eventually miss their hometown paper to make a ruckus, but a new Pew Research poll doesn’t give much hope on that front.

For now, all we can do is wait to hit bottom.

I never went the j-school route and ended up at the second-largest newspaper in Iowa after a miserable stint in PR. Luck, a couple good columns and a wonderful editor helped me land in the industry I adored. I couldn’t care less about my piddly paychecks; someone was willing to pay me to write for a living. I was thrilled to keep working for assorted papers once I made it to the Mitten State.

I still love newspapers, even though one of the smartest decisions I ever made was to stop earning my living from them more than a year ago. I’ve had to fight to keep writing, juggling various gigs like Jack does. It’s worth it. I wish journalism students today had that chance.

I don’t know what I would have said if Jack and I sat down for omelets this year instead of back in 2004, and he told me to quit while I was ahead. But I have a sinking suspicion that I would have taken one look at his crinkled brown eyes and started to cry.

Susan J. Demas is a 2006 Knight Foundation Fellow in nonprofits journalism and a political analyst for Michigan Information & Research Service.