I stand in the company of greatness. And it smells.
Stains older than me are soaked into the roots of the shag green carpet. The tattered ceiling lets the torrential Florida rain infect the wall’s wooden paneling with mold.
But encapsulated in the heart of all the decay and mildew is the University of Florida’s history, sealed with ink and stamped by the names of true newsmen.
Towering stacks of newspapers litter the second floor of The Independent Florida Alligator, which contributes to the overlying “old book smell” that lingers above all.
Although these issues lie dormant in the dark corners of this old place, they are not dead. If you listen, they will speak.
They bring life to this community’s finest moments — the commemorative edition of Florida’s 2006 national championship contrasts a colorful orange-and-blue wrap with the rest of the room’s yellow hue.
They bring life to this community’s lowest moments — a box tucked away in the corner is marked, “ROLLING, if you don’t know who this is, don’t throw away.”
Inside remain the original notes and court orders from the Danny Rolling trial of 1994, including the guilty verdict that eventually sent the murderer to death row.
But with each day The Alligator goes into print, those newspapers lose a piece of their relevance. In this Twitter-centered news world, yesterday’s stories are history. Last year’s are ancient.
So, in the museum that is the second floor of The Alligator, I accepted my place in this newspaper’s history. I am no longer the bright future of this organization but rather a relic of the past.
But as part of The Alligator’s newest class of alumni, I am proud of the work I contributed. I am anxious for the future I have ahead. And I am humbled knowing I have stood in the company of greatness and served my part.
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My first glimpse inside the ivy-clad walls of The Alligator came when I was 16. I enrolled in the University of Florida’s Summer Journalism Institute prior to my senior year of high school in order to gauge my budding interest in reporting.
We lived in Beaty Towers for a week, listened to Mike Foley’s lectures on the news and discovered what it meant to be collegiate journalists.
Although five days of workshops and exercises prepared me for the education I had ahead of me, my group’s visit to The Alligator gave me my first real look at a newsroom.
I was hooked.
A little more than a year later, I found myself back in The Alligator as its newest applicant. With a tie wrung around my neck and a portfolio of my “clips” in hand, I nervously sat down for my interview with sports editor Tom Green and assistant sports editor Matt Watts.
They each sported beards while my peach fuzz was just starting to grow in. Why would they take a chance at a first-semester freshman with virtually no writing experience?
To this day, I still don’t know what made them pull the trigger on me but I’m glad they did.
My first “thank you” of this column goes out to Tom and Matt. When my byline first appeared in The Alligator on Sept. 12, 2011, I hardly recognized my own work. Tom and Matt each took an ax to my story and I was left questioning my future in journalism.
But due to their severe edits, I learned. I learned how to write, how to report and how to make my audience care about Florida’s cross country team thanks to those guys.
When they left, Greg Luca and Joe Morgan took their place. My first “apology” goes out to them.
As the editors of the sports department, Greg and Joe sat me down to let me know that my writing had slipped in the past year. Instead of the baseball beat I was hoping to receive, the two assigned me to gymnastics.
Angry and arrogant, I left the paper prior to the spring of 2013. I was M.I.A. for just one semester before I realized my mistake. Andy Staples, Alligator alumnus and Sports Illustrated writer, once told me no story is too small for a journalist.
I’m embarrassed I had to experience that first-hand to understand it, but I am thankful to The Alligator for taking me back regardless. Greg and Joe, I’m sorry for walking out on the team. You each made me take a hard look at myself, which made me a better man. Thank you.
To the more recent staff of The Alligator, thank you for letting me grow into the writer/editor I am today.
Phil Heilman, you gave me my first big beat and hooked me up with a gig for The Palm Beach Post. Adam Lichtenstein, you gave me my first editor position and showed me the ropes to running this place.
And to Richard Johnson, Morgan Moriarty, Jordan McPherson and Eden Otero, thank you for giving me one hell of a final semester at this place. It has been an honor working beside each of you and I can’t wait to see what you guys will continue to do in the field of journalism.
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The Alligator is far from perfect. But the beauty of this paper doesn’t solely lie in its success, although it has had its fair share of it in the past.
No, The Alligator derives its greatness from its ability to adapt.
When the University of Florida stifled the paper’s duty to inform the public, The Alligator declared its independence to maintain its journalistic integrity.
When the Internet threatened to abolish the campus’ newspaper presence, The Alligator created a website, app and online presence to keep up with journalism’s ever changing landscape.
And when the economy caught up with The Alligator’s antiquated newspaper business, the staff stood tall to ensure the University of Florida would still have a news source it could count on.
Today, I stand in the company of greatness for the final time. So my final “thank you” goes to The Independent Florida Alligator.
You have given a lifetime of memories. Thank you and goodbye.
Follow Jonathan Czupryn on Twitter @jczupryn
