The Baltimore Sun sale proves we should support journalists now more than ever

My very first job, as a fresh-faced 14-year-old, was for The Baltimore Sun. Notice that I said “for” and not “at.” In my several months of employment, I never made it inside the then-Calvert Street newsroom. My task was not the delivery of stories as a writer but the literal delivery of the newspaper in which those stories appeared. Every morning, I got up before the sun to distribute The Sun as a papergirl, lugging heavy bundles of papers into my mom’s car so she could drive my sister and me around Northwood in the dark.