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.
The Baltimore Sun sale proves we should support journalists now more than ever
January 22, 2024