Romenesko

This is a true story. On the morning of July 3, 2000, my first day as editor, I muttered a few words to myself as I passed through the office door: "Don't stay too long." The toll that a high-pressure job takes -- on energy and brain power and psychic health -- weighed heavily on my mind, and I was surely stepping into one. As I've replayed that moment over the years, it seems clear that I was warning myself to heed my internal clock; to accept, however reluctantly, that the day would come when it was time to go, when it was better for me and TEXAS MONTHLY that I hand over the reins to someone with a fresh vision and an undistracted focus.

That time is now. I write you today -- with a mixture of sadness, apprehension, admiration, and appreciation -- to say that I'll soon be leaving TEXAS MONTHLY, the place that I happily gave my life to these last seventeen-plus years but that, without question, gave me my life, gave me the most wonderful and unbelievable and exciting career that anyone could ask for. Editorial and art staffers who were on the masthead in January 2007 will recall my saying, at our annual editorial retreat, that I was beginning to think about what comes next, and that therefore the thing to do was to prepare for an orderly succession. What I offered in terms of a timetable was, "No fewer than two years, no more than five, though closer to two than five." Well, we're now officially closer to five than two, and while I certainly still love the magazine and all of you, I am indeed ready to take on a new challenge (more about which in a sec).

Even the best-chosen words could not adequately convey how proud I am of what we've accomplished together. The tangibles are obvious -- two National Magazine Awards for General Excellence in the last six years and fourteen more nominations over the last nine; the most City and Regional Magazine Association awards during that period of any member publication -- but it's the intangibles that resonate. We've maintained the highest editorial standards in the business, refusing to compromise our integrity even when times were bleak. We've consistently published great journalism, with each issue improving on the one before, and we've rewarded the loyalty of our readers and advertisers by giving them something to look forward to month in and month out. We've entertained, enlivened, and enlightened a generation of Texans, always showing them and the state they (and we) love a proper level of respect but never once flinching from telling the truth about the problems we face and the people responsible for them.

In any situation there are inevitably things you'd like to have done differently, and I have a list of those. I wish I had been able to usher the magazine more aggressively into the modern media world by devoting greater resources to our non-print extensions. I wish I had been able to diversify the staff to the point that it looked more like Texas in 2009 than 1979. Mostly I wish I had been able to insulate us from the cruelties of the recession. Every day I think about those of you who are making less but working more. Every day I think about our colleagues who involuntarily moved on. The last year has been monstrously long, and sad, and hard.

Still, I have enormous confidence in the future. How can I not? We continue to do work that is the envy of the industry, and we have the best staff, from top to bottom, that I’ve ever seen, including a truly magnificent editor and creative director, two exceedingly able and optimistic publishers, and dedicated leaders across the business and operations side who spend every waking hour preserving what is unique about TEXAS MONTHLY. When the economy recovers, and it will, we're positioned to once again succeed on a massive scale.

I owe great big thanks to all of you: story editors and staff writers and art directors, copy editors and fact checkers, capable and committed members of the advertising, marketing, circulation, production, custom publishing, new media, technology, accounting, and general administration staffs. For the many kindnesses you showed. For the amazing talents you displayed. For trusting me. For trusting yourselves. For your humanity and compassion and wicked smarts and ambition and aspiration. A more extraordinary bunch of people, past and present, I will never know.

Fortunately, I'll continue to know you. At Emmis' request, I will be available on an ongoing basis to consult with the senior managers here, Jake and the others, on topics and at moments of their choosing. And I'll still host TEXAS MONTHLY TALKS -- billed as "editor emeritus" -- for the foreseeable future. So you won't get rid of me that easily.

Anyway, that next challenge I alluded to ensures that I'll be seeing you around. It's no secret that I've been consulting with my friend of fifteen years, the venture capitalist John Thornton, on a project very close to his heart: a nonprofit, nonpartisan public media organization whose mission is to promote civic engagement and discourse on public policy, politics, government, and other matters of statewide interest. As John has been telling anyone who will listen, the Texas Tribune will publish original news reporting online (much like ProPublica) and put on conferences, conversation series, and other on-the-record, open-to-the-public events (much like the Aspen Institute). For nearly a year I've been helping John refine his concept for the Trib, and I've suggested various people he might hire. At some point along the way, like Dick Cheney leading the search for George Bush's vice president and concluding that he was the one he was looking for, I came to believe that perhaps I should join John in a more formal capacity, and he came to believe it too. So in mid-August, when all of you are moving bins and boxes into the University Park development, I'll be schlepping my accumulated possessions around the corner, into the Chase Bank building, to begin work the following week as the CEO of the Texas Tribune.

On that day and every day, you will be very much on my mind. You have given me many years of happy memories. I am eternally grateful.

Until we meet again...