I mentioned earlier this week that I was marking an important anniversary.
It was not the only one. It was not even the most important one.
I arrived in beautiful downtown Primos on June 14, 1982. I thought that I had died and gone to heaven. I came to the Daily Times from the Record in Coatesville. Let's just say things were a bit different here. It was a union shop. And the wages proved it. I sometimes had to pinch myself to be sure this was all real.
But I brought a little bit of Coatesville with me to Delco. Or actually, Downingtown.
I met my future wife at the Record. She worked in advertising; I was in news.
She always said the first time she saw me walk through the advertising department, she knew I was the man she was going to marry.
It took me a little longer.
We dated forever, at least to hear her tell it. I was just getting comfortable.
Almost one year to the day after I arrived in Delco, I walked down the aisle with my bride.
We will celebrate 33 years together tomorrow.
She jokes that she is always trying to catch up to the Daily Times.
At least I think she's joking.
Unless you work in or have connections to the news business, it's hard to explain just how hard this racket can be on your personal life.
So many newsrooms are littered with the remains of relationships that could not hold up under that strain.
I can't list the number of family events I missed, kids' night at school, parties, nights out.
For some reason she has not kicked this sorry visage to the curb.
And for that I will be forever grateful