Def: a-ˌnam-ˈnē-sez – a recalling to mind; reminiscence.
“Ben, baby, how ya doin’?”
It was all I needed to hear to wake up. My heart was pounding, hearing Chuck’s voice again. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel a tinge of sadness.
It’s been a while since we lost our previous owner and publisher, Chuck Doud, yet everyday, I’m still reminded of his presence. But hearing him call out, that time, was different.
Perhaps it was just a different time, a different place. Not just for me or him, but for the Tribune and Madera, itself.
I remember walking up toward the front office area, back on the old East 7th Street property. I can still remember doing that, back before we had to move locations. The walls were a bit close, and if I really thought about it, did feel small; reflecting the origins of the current-day iteration of Madera Printing & Publishing Co.
As some of my coworkers would say, we still are, but we are a tightly-knit group, having overcome the many adversities of being in the printing and publishing industry in the age of digital information. I’m still proud of our continued existence, even into today.
The main hallway of the building in my dream was different. It opened into a somewhat new front office: I think our Circulation department was relocated, in favor of having the Editorial department in its place. To me, that could only mean that the building had been renovated, implying other details.
The Tribune was prosperous enough to renovate the old building, and a prosperous newspaper is reflective of a prosperous society. Madera, the city I was born in, had grown, enough to warrant changes within our organization and the city.
Chuck greeted me, dressed in his usual pin-striped (or solid, if that’s how you might recall him) dress shirt and tan slacks. He was smiling, without a care in the world. Leonard Soliz, our former General Manager, was there in his office, across from Chuck’s. Between them was Ellen Beach, our former Legal Clerk. Maintaining the front desk were Maria Madrigal and Alexandra Ganas.
In the Editorial Department sat our Photographer, Wendy Alexander, dutifully working on photo-editing for the next issue to be printed. Across from her were several other coworkers and former coworkers: Tami Jo Nix, Calvin Tatum, and Ramona Frances, to name a few. These are names that, if you’ve been a reader of the paper for the past few decades, you may be familiar with.
After hearing Chuck’s voice and waking up, I’ve taken some time to wrestle with this. In some ways, I could say that I miss them, and I do. But another thought has been eating at me.
Waking up, to a different Tribune, and a different Madera is, in a way, a nightmare. Perhaps my life, thus far, would have been better in that place. But I would lose the everything and everyone I know now.