20-Some Odd Years Later
“Why don’t you come intern at Bay Weekly?” editor Sandra Martin said from behind her instructor’s desk at University College, where she taught editing to me and a classroom of students. It seemed an innocent enough suggestion to this then-20-something-year-old in search of a career back in the mid-1990s.
“It’ll be a stepping stone,” Martin said. With visions of The Washington Post, Baltimore Sun and glossy magazines dancing in my head, I signed on to work nights and weekends as a writer. Soon after, I resigned from my nine-to-five day job to produce advertising and layouts for this small but feisty newspaper in a shoebox-sized office in Deale, Maryland. Little did I know that I’d still be with the paper in 2019.
Bay Weekly was indeed a stepping-stone for my contemporaries. Many coworkers, friends — even my brother Don, a writer from the early days — moved on to interesting organizations or big dailies. But for me, Bay Weekly grew into a home away from home.
Perhaps publisher Bill Lambrecht won my heart every Tuesday night by appearing with a Volkswagen Bug-sized smoked ham or turkey to share for dinner. The Martin-Lambrecht-Knoll family of Bill, Sandra, Nathaniel, Alex and Lisa kept us well fed in those early days. Good thing, too. Our stomachs had to be full and happy while producing the good news of Bay Weekly.
Now 25 years older, I’m left wondering where the years went. I’ve burned through five computers, three office chairs, one card table and two wooden desks in four different offices.