Fourth grade got me into journalism; the Blessed Mother is helping me move on

After almost 23 years in the profession, I’ve decided to hang up my press pass and leave journalism. I’m heading for the communications department at Meritus Health later this month.

I’m going to tell you two stories about me that will help to explain why it’s not been an easy decision, but I have confidence I’m going in the right direction.

First, when I was in the fourth grade, a girl that I liked started a class newspaper. She came to me, asking me to be the advice columnist for her publication.

Being only 9, but not-so-secretly fancying the publisher, I said, “Sure, sign me up.”

That was 35 years ago. Since then, I’ve been editor of my high school and college newspapers, and worked professionally as an ink-stained wretch since four months before Sept. 11.

I’ve been a reporter, a copy editor, a page designer, a managing editor and, most recently, executive editor. When a former editor in chief asked me what my dream job was, I said being the editor of a small-town newspaper.

I’ve had jobs in south-central Pennsylvania, the thumb of Michigan and Scranton, Pa., aside from here in Hagerstown. I’ve covered fires and car crashes, school boards and town councils, governors and senators. I’ve written about small-town fairs and big-time developments.

There was a time I was nicknamed H2 Joe because of my knowledge of the water and sewer systems of Hanover, Pa.

I once got to interview Mickey Rooney; it wasn’t as glamorous as you’d think.

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Anyway, to paraphrase my wife, I’ve perfected the “rumpled journalist” look. Being a newspaperman has been a strong piece of my identity for going on four decades.

That’s not easy to give up.

But another strong piece of my identity is illustrated by the second story, which is about my grandparents, their Catholic faith and their devotion to Jesus and the Blessed Mother.

Before my grandfather headed off to World War II, he and my grandmother prayed a novena to Mary, the Mother of Perpetual Help, asking for her intercession that my grandfather return home safely.

In return, my grandparents promised they would name their sons after St. Joseph and their daughters after Mary.

Through some odd twists of fate, my grandfather managed to avoid heavy combat, despite serving in both theaters of the war, and returned home unscathed.

Thus my mom and her two sisters have some form of Mary in their names.

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My grandparents’ faith in God and devotion to the Blessed Mother remained strong throughout their lives. It’s something they passed on to me. Mary has shown up during important times in my life, often associated with seemingly odd twists of fate of my own.

To wit: One of the most important holy days in the Catholic Church is the feast of the Immaculate Conception. It’s the day Catholics celebrate how Mary was conceived without sin, thus being able to carry the Son of God and enabling God’s plan for salvation.

The chapel at my alma mater, the University of Dayton, is named for the feast day.

So as I sit here in my rumpled journalist outfit, I’m nervous but not afraid to give up my identity of “newspaperman” because I think Mary’s letting me know she’s praying for me.

It happened to work out that my last day at The Herald-Mail is Dec. 8, the feast of the Immaculate Conception.

Thanks for reading.

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Joseph Deinlein is the executive editor of The Herald-Mail for a few more days. Email him at jdeinlein@herald-mail.com.

This article originally appeared on The Herald-Mail: Herald-Mail editor leaves on notes of identity, faith