The Southeast Missourian newsroom has four windows that face North Lorimier Street in downtown Cape Girardeau.

From my desk, I can see First Presbyterian Church and a portion of Ivers Square, just north of the old Common Pleas Courthouse, which will soon be repurposed as part of the Cape Girardeau City Hall complex.

These windows have a sentimental significance for me that stem from my childhood.

You see, I grew up about an hour up the river in Chester, Illinois, and I remember several summers, probably back in the mid-1960s, when my parents would pack my suitcase and drop me off for a week or two with my Cape Girardeau grandparents, Russell and Zelma Fowler. They lived on North Ellis Street in a three-story, eight-bedroom house, in the block south of Centenary Church, where I would spend hours on end rocking on the front porch swing.

But I digress.

When I wasn't rocking away on the swing or playing on one of the nickel pinball machines in the (long gone) coffee shop next to the Esquire Theater, I'd ride my bicycle along Cape Girardeau's downtown sidewalks.

If my bike rides were in the early or midafternoon, I would often stop along Lorimier Street, park my bicycle next to one of the Missourian windows, and watch in amazement as the newspaper's massive press — probably the largest machine I knew of at that age — churned out the Missourian's afternoon edition.

I should clarify a couple of things here. For much of its 117-year history, the Southeast Missourian was published and distributed every afternoon — Monday through Saturday — and Sunday mornings, and for many years, the newspaper's press was in the back of the Missourian building along Lorimier Street in space now occupied by the Missourian newsroom.

The press was not only big — especially from a 10-year-old kid's perspective — but it was also loud, and when it ran at top speed, I could feel the sidewalk move beneath my feet.

There was something almost cathartic about watching the giant rollers pull long sheets of blank newsprint through the press. I was mesmerized as I witnessed the machinery apply just the right amount of ink to the raw material to produce words and photos on the paper before folding, cutting and collating it into thousands of newspapers. I would sometimes spend an entire afternoon watching at the windows as the newspapers were whisked along a conveyor belt to the circulation department. There, they were bundled, bagged and distributed to a small army of boys on bicycles waiting behind the building.

As much as anything, watching the Missourian's press nearly 60 years ago probably influenced my career path. I learned to type (initially with just two fingers) and I have vague recollections of editing one-page newsletters in the family basement.

In high school, my extracurricular activities included the student newspaper and yearbook. In college, I was editor of the campus newspaper, although I'll admit I was (and still am) a terrible speller. There was no such thing as "spell check" in those days, but the newspaper adviser gave me a dictionary, which I still have to this day.

It wasn't until 1977, my senior year in college, that I entered the Missourian building as the newspaper's first intern (at least they told me I was the first). That first day, I met at least a dozen or so people, including executive editor John Blue, managing editor Don Gordon, sports editor Ray Owen, "society" editor Mary Spell, librarian Judy Crow, the legendary G.D. Fronabarger (aka "One Shot Frony") and longtime photographer Fred Lynch, who had joined the Missourian a year or so earlier.

Although my internship grade was only a B+ (they said since I was the paper's first intern, they didn't want to set the bar too high), I must have impressed someone, because the Missourian hired me shortly thereafter and gave me a starting salary of about $4 an hour. I also had to start in a "part-time sports, part-time circulation" position until something opened up in the newsroom.

Eventually, I became a full-fledged reporter, covering police, fire, the university, local schools and Alexander County, Illinois. I don't remember many of the stories I covered back in those days with the exception of a running feud between the university president and the school's board of regents (now known as the board of "governors," go figure) and the "Blizzard of '79," which even merited a 10-second mention on the "CBS Evening News" with Walter Cronkite.

They say the average American changes jobs more than a dozen times during his or her life. I've apparently been an underachiever when it comes to career moves, but as many of you know, I've spent time in broadcast journalism, health care marketing, medical practice management and even alumni relations.

All of that somehow led me back to the Missourian about two and a half years ago when publisher Jon Rust and then editor Bob Miller brought me onboard to write business news, features and anything else that popped up from day to day.

They assigned me a cubicle next to my longtime friend and fraternity brother Mark Bliss, who has since retired, and I gradually figured out the Missourian's newfangled computer system (when I started back in the '70s, we had these archaic things called "typewriters," which today are only suitable as boat anchors).

And, as it so happened, my cubicle was positioned to give me a view from the inside out through the Lorimier Street windows.

Well, for the past couple of years I've been writing about the area's business scene — openings, closings, expansions, acquisitions, promotions, trends and, unfortunately, the impact COVID-19 has had on businesses and their customers.

Because I've lived in the Cape Girardeau area nearly 50 years, many Missourian readers seem to think I know more than most about what's happening in the business community. Perhaps I do, but it surprises me when people regularly tell me they look forward to reading my business stories (to which my standard reply is, "Well, you and my mother").

Seriously, though, the only way I've learned a lot about what was going on has been because readers like you sent me tips. There's plenty I don't know yet. I still don't know who bought the mall or who might move into the Macy's space there, I don't know if anyone has plans for the Sears Grand building, and I haven't heard if there are any prospective buyers for the vacant spec building owned by the Jackson Industrial Development Authority.

Maybe those questions, as well as many others, will be answered in the near future, but I won't be writing about them.

I've decided 44-plus years in the work force is long enough and it's time to start the next chapter of my life. Friday was my last day as the Missourian's business editor (although "business editor emeritus" has a nice ring to it). Beginning this week, business writing responsibilities will shift to Jeff Long, who has a list of local connections that's just as long or longer than mine. He should be able to hit the ground running when it comes to reporting what's happening on the local business scene.

My thanks to everyone in the newsroom — Lucas, Rick, Renda, Jeff, Sharon, Monica, Brooke, Sarah, Mike, Jocelyn, the sports staff and everyone in advertising, circulation and rustmedia — all of you made me look good.

Thanks also to the Missourian's readers, especially those of you who told me they looked forward to the weekly business news.

(And Charlie, please let me know if you find any typos!)

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