The University of Utah's Independent Student Voice

The Daily Utah Chronicle

The University of Utah's Independent Student Voice

The Daily Utah Chronicle

The University of Utah's Independent Student Voice

The Daily Utah Chronicle

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Write for Us
Want your voice to be heard? Submit a letter to the editor, send us an op-ed pitch or check out our open positions for the chance to be published by the Daily Utah Chronicle.
@TheChrony

Sine: Farewell, old Chrony

Ten years before my employment as a photographer at The Daily Utah Chronicle, I was the 8-year-old little girl who sat in the corner of The Chrony office with my sister, watching TV, as my father did his work as the photo editor of the paper. It was 1992, and he was that man who brought his children to campus.

We loved it, and I loved it so much that I felt drawn to work here as a freshman. Nothing, right down to the carpet and desks, had been changed since my youth — I loved it then as I do now at its ultimate end.

Upon publication of this issue, The Chronicle will move to a new location with a new staff, and the paper I have been enamored with for more than a decade will be lost, save for the paper it was printed on, forever.

There is still a part of me that believes no matter how new the furniture is, or how exciting the paint swatches might be, it is still wrong to disrupt a history like the one we have built for so many years in that space. We didn’t outgrow it — we were merely told that we would be required to leave.

It’s hard for me to imagine the office emptied and slated for construction that will change it forever. I don’t want to see it without the cluttered desks, the hum of typed on keyboards and the humble feeling I get realizing the amount of content born within the walls.

Then I realize it is not the existence of the photo-covered filing cabinets, the archives with my father’s work in them or the familiar carpet that matter. It’s the people I love who made this place what it was for me, and when it’s all gone, I will still remember it as it was because of them.

It was The Beatles who so eloquently said, “In the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.” Those words touch the deepest parts of my heart. They remind me of the years I will leave behind at the end of my time here.

I want to make love with this, my last column.

This column is for the people who made The Chronicle what it is to me.

Piper, you’ve been my boss and friend for two years. You were innovative, and I learned so much from you. You deserved better than how you were treated this year. I don’t worry about you because I know you will get to where you want to be with your persistence. I will miss our talks, and I will miss you very much.

Ana, my partner in crime, you shoved my face into a cake a long time ago. It was that tone of silliness that kept me from going insane in an office where too many people try to be alpha dogs.

RuthAnne, you gave a blond sorority girl a chance, and it has taken me far. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Asad, you made this place fun for me in my early years. Thanks for taking me under your wing.

Morgan, you also kept me sane at work. I miss you and will never forget the lunches.

Kelli, you are talented beyond anyone’s perception. Don’t settle for less than what you deserve and do take the risks.

Ro, you are so wise and your sound thinking is an inspiration.

Tony, you’re so much better than this place. I think something is waiting for you. Keep your eyes open and go for it.

Cody, you’re great. I mean that.

Basim, thanks for being the dreamiest dream of them all.

Pappas, my trusted second, I am sorry for what happened. Everyone knows you were the right choice. You’re a talented writer, and you should find someone who appreciates that.

Kamrani, you’re the nicest guy I ever met while working here. Be persistent, and I know you will get to where you want to be.

Mum, Erin and Brock, thanks for the encouragements during the writers block, the kind words in the wake of online comments and the general support.

Grandpa, thanks for coming by to pick up the papers and saving them to show at family parties — that meant a lot to me.

And Dad, thanks for introducing me to this place. It has shaped the direction of my life, and I credit it with my future successes. It is my roots, which have grown for 16 years.

If I close my eyes, I can see myself at age 8, amazed by the newness and immensity of this place. When I open them, the place doesn’t seem so new. Instead, it feels like a home I share with my friends. I will miss it, and I will miss you, the people whose love I plan to take with me forever.

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