Louisville Magazine

NOV 2018

Louisville Magazine is Louisville's city magazine, covering Louisville people, lifestyles, politics, sports, restaurants, entertainment and homes. Includes a monthly calendar of events.

Issue link: https://loumag.epubxp.com/i/1042970

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Page 141 of 172

greaterlouisville.com/events LOUISVILLE MAGAZINE 11.18 139 in a recliner in his book-lined library at home, an oxygen tank attached to the side of the chair. Breathing was difficult for him. Barry Jr. loved classical music, and he particularly relished opera and the works of Hector Berlioz. e stereo played softly in the background. e windows were open and the early spring wind caused the curtains to ripple a bit. ough he usually focused on the future, Barry Jr. was reminiscent that day, reflecting on our lives and on the work we had done together on the editorial page. He suggested it was time for me, at the age of 55, to leave the paper and find something else to do. On the night of April 3, the 32nd an- niversary of the great tornado, I received a call at about 10 p.m. from Barry's little sister, Eleanor Miller, asking if I would come to sit with her and her sister, Sallie, as Barry was near death. It was a stormy night again, and, in the hours that followed, another tornado would blow through the city — just at the time Barry Jr. died near midnight. A few days later, several of his friends and I carried his casket into the grand Christ Church Cathedral on Second Street. e Rev. Al Shands ended the eulo- gy by saying, "Barry kept the flame alive. e flame of this city. e flame of truth. e flame of embracing what is difficult, life-giving, fresh, energizing and inclusive. And maybe what he never quite realized was not only how much he meant to so many, but also that unknown to him he was doing the work of God." April 13, 2012, was the day I was to leave the Courier-Journal, after accepting a buyout. Friday the 13th. As I usually did on Fridays, I think I ordered lunch at my desk. Almost certainly a cheeseburger, chips and slaw. In the end, I was happy to go. I had worked for four decades without a break, in a business where the pressure never really ceases. e thought of months of rejuvenation — reading, walking, perhaps traveling and spending more time with my family — had become far more appeal- ing than worrying about the next day's editorial pages. Or the ever-present fear of being laid off. I couldn't work late that night — al- though on so many Friday evenings I did — because there was a dinner planned for me at Buck's. As sunset approached, I put on my raincoat, picked up my briefcase and walked alone down the third-floor corridor I had come to know so well and took the elevator to the first floor. As I exited, I looked at the inscription over the elevator doors. ey were the words of Robert Worth Bingham, Barry Sr.'s father who bought the papers in 1918. "I have always regarded the newspapers owned by me as a public trust and have endeavored so to conduct them as to render the great- est public service."

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