
It may be repressed but being stuck in Fort Wayne media has got to be awfully depressing for those who have some intellect and cultural sensibility.
By that we mean it is a sad thing to have a journalistic or radio career only to find yourself in a city where media is irrelevant, and you’re going to die here, without making a mark on society and won’t (or can’t) leave a personal legacy that your spouse, children, and friends can point to as significant.
Take Steve Penhollow, the Journal Gazette entertainment reporter for instance; a writer of eminent qualifications who has been relegated to ruminating about tawdry performers (and entertainment), with a Friday stint on 21Alive’s newscasts where he tries to be funny and erudite but falls flat as a Aunt Jemima pancake.
Penhollow was destined for better things in journalism we think, but he ended up marrying Bonnie Blackburn. A former JG editorialist then reporter, who now is an adjunct editor/writer for Fort Wayne magazine.
This has ensconced Mr. Penhollow in Fort Wayne, and kept him in a job that pays the bills but surely has to irk his desire to be something more than a JG hack.
His wife is a terrific writer also, but has succumbed to the Fort Wayne “vapors” and finds this town worthy enough to sap her talents too.
Then take a journalistic quidnunc like Derrick Gingery who writes (or tries to) for The Greater Fort Wayne Business Weekly.
He’s slogged through a few years in his job, having come here from Chicago where he didn’t make a mark, and married, not long ago, a JG business reporter, both now happy to make Fort Wayne their home and journalistic resting place.
Like Mr. And Mrs. Penhollow, they are relatively young, and already cretaively atrophied.
They’ll die in Fort Wayne, and no one will care, not even their offspring we imagine.
The old-timers in the print press (and you all know who they are: Ben Smith, Leo Morris, Craig Klugman, Reggie Hayes, Jennifer Boen, Bob Caylor, et al.) have already accepted their journalistic fates, and have figuratively died, at least career-wise (as one might put it).
TV newsies move on usually.
There are some who’ve been raised in this area and like it: INC’s Melissa Long and Linda Jackson, and WANE’s Heather Herron, for example.
But the go-getters – WANE’s Niccole Caan or Megan Stembol or INC’s Jessica Toumani – will leave Fort Wayne and head down career paths that bring satisfying personal reward and substantial remuneration.
The rest, such as WANE’s Randy Schiffman and Sandy Thomson or INC’s Dean Pantazi, have mouldered here, so they no longer care that they are only earning a living and not making a media mark.
As we wrote earlier, this would be depressing for most people but those named have inured themselves of their failures – measured in qualitative terms not quantitative (materialistic) terms – and just put in a days work (or something like that).
In Fort Wayne radio, Doc West, Dan Austin, Weasel, Melissa Montana, Dirk Rowley, Billy Elvis, Charly Butcher, Jim Reed, and a whole lot more, have settled into moribund routines and FM careers; they don’t care that they matter not to the world outside (and some of) Fort Wayne.
They earn a paycheck, and have a few fans, so what’s not to like they may ask?
Being a big fish in a small pond can be rewarding. It isn’t transcendent in any way but it keeps food on the table, and for many media folks here that’s enough.
Nonetheless, taking an objective view – and we are being objective here regardless of the quasi-rant – for most Fort Wayne media people, their careers aren’t going to lift them to notable heights.
And while that’s sad, in many ways, it is not as bad as just dying with nothing worthwhile to put a tombstone, but it’s damn close.