It was February or early March of 1995, the snow was falling, temperatures well below the freezing mark and a feeling of foreboding was in the air.
I walked down the stairs to the Informer offices with coffee in hand like I had done so many times over the previous few years. The coffee (and possibly even a doughnut or two) was from Mr. Mugs coffee shop, very conveniently located across from our office entrance.
I had been a bit early that morning, traffic had seemed lighter than usual. When I arrived I turned on my Mac II FX computer, monitors and laser printer. I was alone in the office which usually meant I could get some ad design, layout or writing done before the hustle and bustle of the day started.
About 45 minutes later my partner Tony walked in, also with coffee in hand, and entered his office. I knew Tony would follow a similar routine and I expected he would come in to discuss his daily schedule.
Tony and I had been stressed for a few months and, at times not the best of friends, but we respected each other and our responsibilities. A few months earlier we had made a bad business decision and sold part of the company to a publisher in Renfrew. It turned out to be a bad deal in the end, as we lost more than we gained from this transaction.
Both Tony and I cared deeply about the state of our town and wanted the newspaper to be a vessel of improvement, enlightenment, or at the very least - a way to keep city council honest. This was our advantage - the same could not be said about our new Renfrew partner - he was all about the money.
We also wanted to create a business we could pass on to our children. We both knew it was not the type of company that would offer financial independence, but we could work our own hours, answer only to each other and be as creative as we could be without fear or someone 'dumbing' things down.
We occasionally argued about the direction the newspaper was going in, and we often looked at radical ideas and suggestions, but we both loved the business we were in and really wanted to build it into something special.
That morning, Tony, in a sombre mood, walked into my office and sat down. I assumed we would discuss our routines and what we needed the staff to accomplish that day and the rest of the week. Anyone who knows the newspaper or publishing business knows that things change daily, and often hourly.
This particular meeting was to be different. Tony, despite his best efforts, was visibly upset, I knew something bad was coming, but I waited patiently to hear.
"Colin, he said, I have some bad news." He seemed hesitant and a bit tentative to say what was on his mind.
"Out with it Tony, I replied, just tell me."
"Well, I have taken a job offer with the Ottawa Sun. It pays a lot more than we (our newspaper) can afford, and I need the money and stability right now." he almost cried. Kay (his wife and our editor) and I will be leaving today, but we'll make sure the next edition gets out without problems.
I was stunned. My business partner, main columnist, tenacious and sometimes ravenous reporter/publisher was planning on leaving!
After much discussion, we spoke for about an hour, he gave me a hug, told me I was an amazing guy and things would work out, packed up and left. I was actually a little peeved, and maybe even in a level of shock, so I don't recall returning the compliment or hug (I should have).
Over the next 5 months Tony did continue to check in, help where he could but refused any payment that I offered. In June of 1995, I couldn't see how the company could continue and decided to close the business. I called Tony the day I made that decision, and we talked for some time. I'm not an overly emotional person (my wife will testify to that), but we both cried that day as the end of our 7 year journey was imminent.
Two weeks later we published our final edition,saying goodbye to our town, the many people who made the newspaper a viable alternative, and an ambitious venture that simply didn't work out.
Over the years I kept in a semblance of contact with most of the staff and Tony in particular. We would often meet at the Canadian Tire store in town, or see each other at a restaurant. When the floods of 2017 and 2019 happened, Tony was omnipresent, traveling all over his neighborhood. I would go to the flood zones and take photos and help where I could and Tony was always around, chucking sandbags, helping direct people, offering support and more.
On January 10, 2020, Tony passed away from cancer. He didn't tell me that he was sick, he had always been a proud and private person. Even when I asked him in November or December what was wrong, he said "nothing major, I'll get through it."
When we did talk, or get together, things were never awkward. We spoke and laughed as if we had seen each other every day since the company closed. We always spoke of the "good old days", with fond memories and a sense of accomplishment.
The last time we met was in May of 2019, we were looking at the flooding on his street and the neighbourhood he lived in. Even then he said, someone needs to get these Gatineau city councillors to care about our area again.
It was like our reporter/newspaper days all over again; Tony was on the attack, something needed to be done, Municipal council was ignoring the issues!!!
I will miss him, despite only speaking a few times a year. A big part of my past has moved onto another adventure.
Rest well Tony, your work here is done!
I walked down the stairs to the Informer offices with coffee in hand like I had done so many times over the previous few years. The coffee (and possibly even a doughnut or two) was from Mr. Mugs coffee shop, very conveniently located across from our office entrance.
I had been a bit early that morning, traffic had seemed lighter than usual. When I arrived I turned on my Mac II FX computer, monitors and laser printer. I was alone in the office which usually meant I could get some ad design, layout or writing done before the hustle and bustle of the day started.
About 45 minutes later my partner Tony walked in, also with coffee in hand, and entered his office. I knew Tony would follow a similar routine and I expected he would come in to discuss his daily schedule.
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| Tony Rufffo Circa 1990's |
Both Tony and I cared deeply about the state of our town and wanted the newspaper to be a vessel of improvement, enlightenment, or at the very least - a way to keep city council honest. This was our advantage - the same could not be said about our new Renfrew partner - he was all about the money.
We also wanted to create a business we could pass on to our children. We both knew it was not the type of company that would offer financial independence, but we could work our own hours, answer only to each other and be as creative as we could be without fear or someone 'dumbing' things down.
We occasionally argued about the direction the newspaper was going in, and we often looked at radical ideas and suggestions, but we both loved the business we were in and really wanted to build it into something special.
That morning, Tony, in a sombre mood, walked into my office and sat down. I assumed we would discuss our routines and what we needed the staff to accomplish that day and the rest of the week. Anyone who knows the newspaper or publishing business knows that things change daily, and often hourly.
This particular meeting was to be different. Tony, despite his best efforts, was visibly upset, I knew something bad was coming, but I waited patiently to hear.
"Colin, he said, I have some bad news." He seemed hesitant and a bit tentative to say what was on his mind.
"Out with it Tony, I replied, just tell me."
"Well, I have taken a job offer with the Ottawa Sun. It pays a lot more than we (our newspaper) can afford, and I need the money and stability right now." he almost cried. Kay (his wife and our editor) and I will be leaving today, but we'll make sure the next edition gets out without problems.
 |
| Tony and Kay in recent years (our publisher and editor) |
After much discussion, we spoke for about an hour, he gave me a hug, told me I was an amazing guy and things would work out, packed up and left. I was actually a little peeved, and maybe even in a level of shock, so I don't recall returning the compliment or hug (I should have).
Over the next 5 months Tony did continue to check in, help where he could but refused any payment that I offered. In June of 1995, I couldn't see how the company could continue and decided to close the business. I called Tony the day I made that decision, and we talked for some time. I'm not an overly emotional person (my wife will testify to that), but we both cried that day as the end of our 7 year journey was imminent.
Two weeks later we published our final edition,saying goodbye to our town, the many people who made the newspaper a viable alternative, and an ambitious venture that simply didn't work out.
Over the years I kept in a semblance of contact with most of the staff and Tony in particular. We would often meet at the Canadian Tire store in town, or see each other at a restaurant. When the floods of 2017 and 2019 happened, Tony was omnipresent, traveling all over his neighborhood. I would go to the flood zones and take photos and help where I could and Tony was always around, chucking sandbags, helping direct people, offering support and more.
On January 10, 2020, Tony passed away from cancer. He didn't tell me that he was sick, he had always been a proud and private person. Even when I asked him in November or December what was wrong, he said "nothing major, I'll get through it."
When we did talk, or get together, things were never awkward. We spoke and laughed as if we had seen each other every day since the company closed. We always spoke of the "good old days", with fond memories and a sense of accomplishment.
It was like our reporter/newspaper days all over again; Tony was on the attack, something needed to be done, Municipal council was ignoring the issues!!!
I will miss him, despite only speaking a few times a year. A big part of my past has moved onto another adventure.
Rest well Tony, your work here is done!
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