First, I wanted to thank the folks here who acknowledged my dad's departure from WGN Radio. I didn't want to post a reply to the thread until today, which was his last official day on the payroll. His last day on the air was a little over two weeks ago, and as it sometimes happens in this business, he didn't get a chance to say goodbye to the listeners, most likely because management was afraid of what he'd say.
I'm also going to beg your indulgence over the length of this post, but there's been a lot that he (and I) wanted to say, and not a lot of people willing to listen, so here goes.
I always figured I'd write my dad's personal obit instead of his professional one. I always thought he'd be out covering a fire, get done with a report, and just close his eyes and fade away, just like that. I'd get a phone call from one of his friends on the Chicago Fire Department, and I could really be okay with him going that way. Yeah, it'd be nice to get the insurance money from the Tribune Company, but it would be the knowledge that he got to go doing what he loved that would truly make me feel good.
But life isn't like the movies, sometimes it's the bean counters who wear the black hats, and they give you a severance check and a pat on the back before they punt you out to the street. The one thing I've had to explain to my dad countless times in the 11 years since I joined him in the radio/news business is that it's become just that--a BUSINESS.
The experiences he had first at WGN TV when he joined them 37 years ago, and then WGN Radio shortly after that, where the product, getting the news on, hopefully first, but more importantly, always right and better than everyone else, was the most important thing. I'm not naive, I know that the almighty $ has always been important in radio/news, but I think anyone who's been in it as long as my dad has can tell you how much the scale has tilted towards the bottom line.
Now I'm going to make one quick note about myself--before anyone wants to call me a hypocrite for working for the company that is probably more responsible for making radio more business than any other radio owners, fine, feel free. But like I said, I knew what radio has become, and I'm willing to live in that world. I've seen good friends blown out by new owners or fired enmasse when a format flips, and I've even lost a job doing news because my company decided, instead of winning through competition, to simply buy both news stations in a market and then change one, which of course was the place I worked.
The point is that my dad learned the hard way that things aren't the way they used to be. It probably started when they took the 6:25 morning report from him and had him doing pieces only in newscasts. Then it was hiring a former rival from another station to do weekends, which was like lining up his successor before he ever gave a signal he was going to leave. Then it was micro management and further changes, including a new news director and other new managers, who like most new bosses, decided they had to put their own fingerprints on the station. I'm not saying they had to kiss my dad's butt, but when you bring in managers from out of town, they don't always know a station's history or what the people there have done, so they create their own version of the station.
The breaking point is when these managers decided to, as one of them put it during a meeting with him, "Create a new Larry Schreiner." Never mind that he's been out on the streets as a breaking news reporter for over a quarter of a century, they wanted to put him in the news room somewhere between twice and five days a week, working a 7 to 8 hour shift like all the other reporters and anchors. Now, in his life, I don't think my dad has spent a full day in an "office" type setting, but that's what it would be like when you compare it to the "on-call 24-7" job he'd done for years.
The saying is sometimes true, you really can't teach an old dog new tricks. But at his age, and with his experience and his track record, why should you expect the old dog to learn new ones? So that's what he said. He didn't need the aggravation, the stress, the headaches you get from banging your head against the same wall again and again, so he got out.
And it's been tough--he sometimes listens to his fire radios and wishes he could do a report, he sometimes turns them off and sits in the dark and misses the rush we get doing breaking news. But he also doesn't miss the nit-picking phone calls every morning, the orders to drive three hours to cover some story four hours after it broke and he first offered to go to, just the little things that annoy you about your job until they stack up and become one big reason to, from the moment you wake up every morning, hate not what you do for a living, but the way you have to do it.
But he'll survive. He's got nothing to be ashamed about. For over 25 years on the radio, and 37 when you add in the film and video work, he's done the best he could and been one of the best in the biz. Would it be nice if he got to say goodbye to his listeners? Sure. Would it have been better if the local newspapers could have made note of his departure with more than a terse one or two sentence item? Absolutely.
But you know what? He'll live. I've hooked him up with some of the people I used to work with who are now at WBBM (if he goes there, as his agent, I've been promised 100 percent of everything I'm supposed to get in his will), and if they want to use him, great. If not, fine. He'll play in his garden, play with the cats, and continue with his daily walks.
He still wants to sell his house and leave Chicago and move down here to Florida. I hope he does that, as long as he doesn't move into the house next door to me. But no matter what, he's done all he could, he's done it well, and he can walk out with his head held high, no matter how many people got to hear him say goodbye.
Thanks for your time, and more importantly, thanks to all who have listened to him all these years.
Mark Schreiner
I'm also going to beg your indulgence over the length of this post, but there's been a lot that he (and I) wanted to say, and not a lot of people willing to listen, so here goes.
I always figured I'd write my dad's personal obit instead of his professional one. I always thought he'd be out covering a fire, get done with a report, and just close his eyes and fade away, just like that. I'd get a phone call from one of his friends on the Chicago Fire Department, and I could really be okay with him going that way. Yeah, it'd be nice to get the insurance money from the Tribune Company, but it would be the knowledge that he got to go doing what he loved that would truly make me feel good.
But life isn't like the movies, sometimes it's the bean counters who wear the black hats, and they give you a severance check and a pat on the back before they punt you out to the street. The one thing I've had to explain to my dad countless times in the 11 years since I joined him in the radio/news business is that it's become just that--a BUSINESS.
The experiences he had first at WGN TV when he joined them 37 years ago, and then WGN Radio shortly after that, where the product, getting the news on, hopefully first, but more importantly, always right and better than everyone else, was the most important thing. I'm not naive, I know that the almighty $ has always been important in radio/news, but I think anyone who's been in it as long as my dad has can tell you how much the scale has tilted towards the bottom line.
Now I'm going to make one quick note about myself--before anyone wants to call me a hypocrite for working for the company that is probably more responsible for making radio more business than any other radio owners, fine, feel free. But like I said, I knew what radio has become, and I'm willing to live in that world. I've seen good friends blown out by new owners or fired enmasse when a format flips, and I've even lost a job doing news because my company decided, instead of winning through competition, to simply buy both news stations in a market and then change one, which of course was the place I worked.
The point is that my dad learned the hard way that things aren't the way they used to be. It probably started when they took the 6:25 morning report from him and had him doing pieces only in newscasts. Then it was hiring a former rival from another station to do weekends, which was like lining up his successor before he ever gave a signal he was going to leave. Then it was micro management and further changes, including a new news director and other new managers, who like most new bosses, decided they had to put their own fingerprints on the station. I'm not saying they had to kiss my dad's butt, but when you bring in managers from out of town, they don't always know a station's history or what the people there have done, so they create their own version of the station.
The breaking point is when these managers decided to, as one of them put it during a meeting with him, "Create a new Larry Schreiner." Never mind that he's been out on the streets as a breaking news reporter for over a quarter of a century, they wanted to put him in the news room somewhere between twice and five days a week, working a 7 to 8 hour shift like all the other reporters and anchors. Now, in his life, I don't think my dad has spent a full day in an "office" type setting, but that's what it would be like when you compare it to the "on-call 24-7" job he'd done for years.
The saying is sometimes true, you really can't teach an old dog new tricks. But at his age, and with his experience and his track record, why should you expect the old dog to learn new ones? So that's what he said. He didn't need the aggravation, the stress, the headaches you get from banging your head against the same wall again and again, so he got out.
And it's been tough--he sometimes listens to his fire radios and wishes he could do a report, he sometimes turns them off and sits in the dark and misses the rush we get doing breaking news. But he also doesn't miss the nit-picking phone calls every morning, the orders to drive three hours to cover some story four hours after it broke and he first offered to go to, just the little things that annoy you about your job until they stack up and become one big reason to, from the moment you wake up every morning, hate not what you do for a living, but the way you have to do it.
But he'll survive. He's got nothing to be ashamed about. For over 25 years on the radio, and 37 when you add in the film and video work, he's done the best he could and been one of the best in the biz. Would it be nice if he got to say goodbye to his listeners? Sure. Would it have been better if the local newspapers could have made note of his departure with more than a terse one or two sentence item? Absolutely.
But you know what? He'll live. I've hooked him up with some of the people I used to work with who are now at WBBM (if he goes there, as his agent, I've been promised 100 percent of everything I'm supposed to get in his will), and if they want to use him, great. If not, fine. He'll play in his garden, play with the cats, and continue with his daily walks.
He still wants to sell his house and leave Chicago and move down here to Florida. I hope he does that, as long as he doesn't move into the house next door to me. But no matter what, he's done all he could, he's done it well, and he can walk out with his head held high, no matter how many people got to hear him say goodbye.
Thanks for your time, and more importantly, thanks to all who have listened to him all these years.
Mark Schreiner