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On Thursday, my time as a journalist was completed.
It all began in December 1980 when I was hired as a reporter for a four-person newsroom of a 5,000 circulation daily newspaper in Shelby, Ohio, in Richland County. I had just graduated with a bachelor's in print journalism from Bowling Green State University. Jimmy Carter had just lost the presidency to Ronald Reagan, an actor who was about to play his biggest role on the world's stage.
Print journalism. Fourth estate. The press.
I gave my life's work -- so far -- to the newspaper business. But like my grandfather's line of work -- the railroad -- newspapers have fallen on hard times.
It was not a coincidence that headlines earlier this year told of a train derailment and the subsequent consequences that befell the citizens of East Palestine in Columbiana County, a place I had spent three years covering the news while working for the Salem News.
All told, in some 42 1/2 years in the business, I have worked for five newspapers across three states, which included the three counties that make up the Mahoning Valley.
A grand career, indeed. It all came to an end Thursday, but I take with me some great memories.
I guess every journalist wants to come home, and I had the privilege of working the last four years for The Vindicator, my hometown newspaper.
It was the old Vindy that I looked forward to reading every day in the late 1960s and the 1970s. I have to admit that the first thing that I turned to were the baseball box scores. I was mezmerized by statistics, and that skill helped me with those county budget and bureaucratic stories that would interpret surveys and reports that I would be assigned through the years.
There are many people I would like to thank for helping me in this four-decade journey through the desert of story assignments, pagination, deadlines and feature stories. I can't name them all, but I will single out three people who were very influential in helping this journalist keep on the truth-seeking path.
First, it was grandpa, my namesake Guy Polon, an Italian immigrant who was proud to become an American. He adopted five children in the 1920s, a time when adoption was not even a choice for many people. He also was an avid follower of the three media of his time, the newspaper, the radio and the television. His interest and passion when searching for the news was infectious -- and his youngest grandchild caught it. It was no mistake that my last story written for this newspaper was about adoption, a salute to a man for all seasons even though he hasn't been around since 1972.
Second, I would like to thank John Valerino, who was sports editor at my third paper, the Ledger in Lakeland, Fla. He not only taught me how to work fast and make deadline as a sports copy editor; he also taught me the importance of the fundamentals -- the less flashy or glamorous part of the job that every reader (including me) craves. Yes, that includes box scores, police blotters and obituaries. It is no accident that my first task each week was to organize the Warren police blotter for these pages. John passed away earlier this year, and it is a shame I never got to tell him how much he meant to my career. That is my mistake that a simple correction cannot fix.
The third person I'd like to thank is Christopher Bobby, the Tribune Chronicle longtime courthouse reporter. It was an honor back in 2016 that an editor suggested I take over Chris' court beat. You see, Chris died suddenly in March 2015, two short years away from his retirement. Chris had told me the importance of treating sources -- whether friend or foe -- as people. He also had the integrity that made people trust him to tell their secrets. Always, Chris would honor this commitment, perhaps to the disdain of his bosses. But the lesson learned by me is that the next story is always more important than the one in front of you. My only regret is that Chris today couldn't share with me our successes in journalism.
There you have it -- a career completed but not forgotten. Almost 35 years were spent at the Tribune Chronicle and in Trumbull County. I love you guys the most. Thank you, readers.
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