Is there life after the newsroom? Is there a future for newspapers? Is the beer cold?

That was what was on the minds of 300+ colleagues from the Gene Roberts era of The Philadelphia Inquirer (1972-1990) as they gathered for a reunion on a hot, sunny day outside Philadelphia last weekend.

The answers: Yes! Sort of … and, oh yeah!

It was an Irish wake for the sort of swashbuckling journalism I was lucky enough to be a part of during my own tenure at the Inky (1982-1999). Surprisingly, there was much sweet, and seemingly little bitter. It had something to do with the beer, no doubt. The fact that most of the attendees no longer work at The Inquirer, which has been decimated by rounds of buyouts and layoffs since 2005, also was a factor.

But most of the good cheer at the gathering was due to the creativity, camaraderie and sense of purpose that Roberts and his deputy, Jim Naughton, nourished in The Inquirer newsroom — and the journalism that flourished as a result. “I think for at least 10 to 12 of those years we were putting out the most interesting paper in America,” said former Metro Editor Steve Seplow. “[It] may have not been the most complete – but it was the most interesting, the most imaginative, and did some of the greatest journalism. And it’s amazing how much warmth is still here, how much commitment there was to doing it. And you can feel it here.”

Those Were the Days

The talent in the picnic pavilion where we gathered was jaw-dropping: At least 16 Pulitzer winners attended, along with alums who have gone on to author best-selling or award-winning books, including Buzz Bissinger (Friday Night Lights) ; Sharon Wohlmuth (Sisters , Mothers and Daughters and Best Friends ); Mark Bowden (Black Hawk Down: A Story of Modern War ); Tim Weiner (winner of the National Book Award for Legacy of Ashes: The History of the CIA ), and Hank Klibanoff (who, with Roberts, authored The Race Beat: The Press, the Civil Rights Struggle and the Awakening of a Nation , winner of the 2007 Pulitzer for history).

We hugged, posed for pictures and caught up on our former colleagues’ careers and families. There were skits acknowledging both our triumphs – 17 Pulitzers in 18 years of Roberts’ tenure – and our foibles: specious “trend” stories and series whose length far exceeded their importance or readers’ attention spans (e.g., a four-parter on the endangered black rhinoceros). Former Managing Editor Gene Foreman, the fastidious member of the Roberts’ triumvirate, was ribbed for his memos citing violations of The Inquirer style manual. (“In this morning’s paper a sentence in Italic type was followed by a period in Roman type.”)

In “Dead Tree Media Blues,” set to the tune of Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues,” we acknowledged the seismic changes threatening the industry:

Dead Tree Media Blues

Known affectionately as The Frog, Gene Roberts was an unlikely personality to inspire the cult that grew around him. As former Inky columnist Clark DeLeon wrote in his own blog post on the reunion: “Gene Roberts communicated like a Buddha. Not only did we get it, we couldn’t even explain it to each other without quoting him. I have never heard anyone explain the philosophy of journalism that we all embraced without a little red book quote from Chairman Gene. `News doesn’t always break,’ Gene said. `Sometimes it oozes.’”

In his first 12 years, Roberts and company transformed the little-regarded Inquirer, forcing the closure of the once-dominant Philadelphia Bulletin. With The Bulletin gone, The Inquirer expanded its ambition, hiring reporters by the dozens and opening foreign and national bureaus. There were Pulitzers for local coverage — investigations of the Philadelphia police department and coverage of the Three Mile Island accident -– and for national and international reporting.

Even then, we suspected it was too good to last. When Roberts, worn down by the annual budget fights with Knight-Ridder management, retired from The Inquirer in 1990, he nonetheless assured us that the budget cuts had not “struck any arteries.” But the financial pressures increased under Knight-Ridder CEO Tony Ridder, who had as little talent as a business leader as he did experience in journalism.

The decade after Robert’s departure was bumpy. Although the paper still did a lot of excellent work under editors Max King (1990-1998) and Robert Rosenthal (1998-2001), there would be only one more Pulitzer and many of its stars began departing for places like The Washington Post, The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal. (See The Inquirer’s Midlife Crisis , American Journalism Review, Jan-Feb 1995.)

For the next five years, the paper was headed by two outsiders brought in by Knight-Ridder. Walker Lundy (2001-2003), made little mark on the paper and left after a year and a half. Amanda Bennett (2003-2006), presided over buyouts in 2005 that led many longtime staffers to exit (now referred to as the “Great Escape”).

In 2006, Knight-Ridder sold The Inquirer and Philadelphia Daily News to McClatchy Co., which quickly sold it to a group of Philadelphia investors led by advertising and public relations executive Brian Tierney. Tierney, a Republican activist who had clashed with The Inquirer years before over its coverage of the Philadelphia Archdiocese, was viewed warily by the newsroom.

Tierney won some goodwill with the newsroom by replacing Bennett with Bill Marimow, a two-time Pulitzer winner for The Inquirer who had gone on to stints at The Baltimore Sun and National Public Radio. But barely a month after Marimow’s arrival, the paper announced the layoff of 68 newsroom employees, 16% of its editorial staff.

Marimow convinced two former Inky stars, Mike Leary and Vernon Loeb, to return as top lieutenants and lured a third, Atlantic Monthly national correspondent Mark Bowden, to write a weekly column.

Last November, Tierney celebrated a 2.3 percent increase in The Inquirer’s weekday circulation. But with advertising revenue in a free fall, Tierney’s ownership group reportedly fell into default on its debt covenants last month and the paper announced it was eliminating its Neighbors editions – the cornerstone of its suburban strategy for the last 25 years. The paper also announced it will combine the Sunday Arts and Entertainment section with the Image section, which the paper had launched when it folded its Sunday magazine in 2003. Tierney also is considering sharing editorial functions of The Inquirer with the Daily News, the feisty tabloid which often refers to its larger brother as the “Inqwaster.”

So it was, that when I asked reunion attendees to offer unsolicited advice to Marimow, I got a mix of gallows humor, pep talks — “Keep up the good fight” was a recurrent theme — and serious critiques.

Two alums, former staff writer Murray Dubin and former executive editor Jim Naughton, voiced similar critiques regarding Philly.com , the web presence of The Inquirer and Daily News. Naughton said The Inquirer and other newspapers need to gravitate to the web in a way that still respects their print readers’ interests. Dubin said Marimow should try to make the home page more like the front page of the print paper. (The paper recently launched a hybrid product that attempts to do just that.) Max King praised Marimow and the current Inquirer staff for continuing to produce the kind of enterprise reporting that has been its trademark since the 1970s.

Unsolicited Advice for Bill Marimow

Indeed, the paper still publishes some of the best writers in the business, including feature writer Karen Heller (Pulitzer Finalist in 2001); architecture critic Inga Saffron (Pulitzer finalist in 2004 and 2008); editorial writer Chris Satullo; and political columnist Dick Polman, who left The Inquirer staff in 2006 but still writes a regular column .

And, as Dan Rubin, another very talented Inky journalist, pointed out, the paper proved last week that it is still the definitive news source in Philadelphia. It did it with a comprehensive package on news that the Spectrum — former home of the 76ers and Flyers — had been slated for demolition: “Next to Frank Fitzpatrick’s main obit … Bill Lyon conjured the soul of the place of triumph and dashed hopes. Bob Ford complained about the bathrooms. Dan DeLuca took us back to his favorite show there: Bruce Springsteen on Dec. 9, 1980, the night after John Lennon’s murder. Time lines hit a wealth of its highlights: Joe Frazier knockouts, Sinatra and Grateful Dead shows, Christian Laettner’s buzzer-beater, Flyers and Sixers banners,” Rubin wrote. “Those filled just a few of the 50 pages of news about Bush’s bullishness on the economy, trends in big-cup bras, and grabby scoops like the one about Canada’s coming to recruit our recent immigrants. It’s a bargain still for 75 cents.”

A bargain indeed. And under the high reporting and ethical standards set by Marimow and his team, the paper will maintain its professionalism regardless of economic constraints.

No one would confuse The Inquirer of 2008, however, with that of 1990. The paper has fewer reporters to produce enterprise reporting and carries wire copy where it once had its own correspondents reporting from Washington and overseas. Gone, in addition to the Sunday magazine and Neighbors sections, are the book review and the personal technology sections.

Of course, The Inquirer is far from alone in its dilemma. If you want a reason to be pessimistic about the news business consider that John Woestendiek, winner of a 1987 Pulitzer for a report that helped free a man wrongly convicted of murder, came to the reunion without a job. Also newly unemployed is Hank Klibanoff, who quit his managing editor’s post at The Atlanta Journal Constitution on July 3rd, days before the paper announced it would cut its workforce by 8 percent and eliminate all of its geographically-targeted news sections.

But Marimow and others insisted they see signs of hope. “People are going to want to read great stories, whether they read them in the paper, on line, on a cell phone …[or] listen to them on an iPod.” said Marimow. “… If your organization has the best reporters, writers and editors you’re going to survive and then ultimately thrive.”

The Future

As evidence that old dogs can learn new tricks, consider Art Howe, who won a 1986 Pulitzer for an Inquirer expose of gross mismanagement at the Internal Revenue Service. Howe, a Wharton School MBA, went on to become a successful newspaper publisher and now is CEO of Verve Wireless , whose Mobile News Network — a partnership with the Associated Press — was named one of the best iPhone applications at the Apple Worldwide Developers Conference last month. “I see a very bright future for publishers who can publish local content,” said Howe. “… Advertisers still want to connect with people locally.”

I wasn’t at The Inquirer for the first decade of Gene Roberts’ tenure. I did not witness the camel brought into the newsroom to celebrate Richard Ben Cramer’s groundbreaking reporting from the Middle East. I have never seen any photographs of said camel. Yet I believe it like I was taught to believe the stories of the New Testament. On faith alone.

In that spirit, I will let Jim Naughton, the man who hired me at The Inquirer, have the final word. It is his kind of optimism that inspired the launch of the TreeHouse Media Project .

“I have great faith that whatever occurs — even if newspapers like The Inquirer were to succumb — journalists will not let good journalism go to waste,” Naughton said. “They will find a place to do it, they’ll find an audience for it and they’ll make it a success — somewhere, somehow.”

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