Goodbye, Mr. Kurdy

It’s always hard to say goodbye to a friend, but at least it’s much easier when they retire than when they die.

Can I say that?

I think I can, because the guy who used to tell me not to say stuff like that is the guy who retired.

Tom Kurdy, the longtime publisher of the Daily Inter Lake, retired last month at the end of a 40-year career with the Hagadone Newspaper Group. He served three stints at the Inter Lake, totaling 21 years.

When I first came to this newspaper as wire editor in 1984, Tom was the business manager with the reputation for tracking down every loose dime, even the ones that rolled under the Coke machine.

Back in those days, we probably didn’t see eye to eye. He was button-down and I was riled up. My hair was down to my shoulders; his was above the ear — way above the ear. He was all about numbers; I was all about words.

Perhaps if nothing had changed, we never would have become friends. But life is all about change, and one day not too many months after I arrived at the Inter Lake, Tom left to join another paper in the company and was then quickly promoted to became publisher at the Columbia Basin Herald in Moses Lake, Wash.

I didn’t give it a second thought, and probably imagined our lives would never cross again. After all, I’d had three jobs in four years, and figured I would be moving on soon, too. As for Tom, well, who knew what would happen to him?

But it turned out Tom and I had more in common than we knew back then — we were both lifers, dedicated to a company that had given us a home and where you could count on being treated with respect, no matter how long or short your hair was.

By the time Tom returned to the Inter Lake six years later, this time as publisher, his hair was a little longer and mine was a little shorter. We both had gruff exteriors (or so I am told) and hearts of gold (or so I like to believe). We also both liked to be right. I got to be right in my movie reviews; Tom got to be right in everything else. After all, he was the boss now.

This time around, Tom stayed three years, but in 1994 he got the chance to become publisher at the much larger Sioux City Journal in Iowa. So off he went, leaving me behind, now working as the Flathead Business Journal editor as well as continuing as the entertainment editor.

Two publishers later, in 1999, I was shocked when my managing editor, Dan Black — the man who had hired me at the Inter Lake back in 1984, and still young — announced that he was retiring. That was something I had never anticipated, but it forced me to consider my own future, too.

I decided to apply for the opening, and then found out that one of the people who would interview me for the job was none other than Tom Kurdy, now working for the corporate office in Coeur d’Alene. OK, maybe it’s time to tell you that I have perhaps exaggerated my friendship with Tom before this point. Actually, I was terrified of him. He was, after all — as good bosses are — quite demanding. There was no excuse good enough to justify making a mistake; no reason to cut a corner; no time like the present to get a job done — and done right.

The ex-hippie in me swallowed hard and gave it my best shot. I knew Tom would remember every error I had ever made, and I had made some doozies. Putting headlines on the front page for 10 years was too often an exercise in humiliation. All it took was one false keystroke, or a momentary lapse in proofreading, and 30,000 or more readers were calling the publisher to demand your head.

Or so it seemed.

But I kept my head in the interview with Tom and Publisher Paul Burke and wound up being offered the job as managing editor, which I have held since April 2000.

 What made the experience of the last decade especially worthwhile, however, is that Tom returned to the Inter Lake as publisher just a few months after my promotion and has been not just a friend, but a mentor. Turns out that for a guy who was already in his mid-40s, I had a lot to learn. And Tom may have been the only guy with the patience to teach me.

Working for a perfectionist has been a challenge, I won’t deny that. Tom cares about every aspect of the Daily Inter Lake, from the smallest piece of lint on the carpet to the biggest typo on the front page. He was famous for his red notes — a felt-tip circle and an ominous “See TK.” If it was accompanied by a smiley face, all was well. But heaven help you if it was a frown!

Tom always reminded us that our best was the least we could do. No, he didn’t make me perfect, but he made me better. He can say that about a lot of us who worked at the Inter Lake over the years, and that’s quite a legacy.

If Tom has a little less hair today as he begins his retirement, I guess I have to take some of the blame for that. I did plenty of foolish things to make him pull out his hair during the past decade. And if my hair is grayer than it was, I guess Tom gets a lot of the credit for that, too.

I regret to say that there will probably be some error in today’s paper worthy of a red note and a frown, and I hope it won’t ruin Tom’s day. He’s retired, but I know he’s still reading. So for him, I’ll keep trying to do my best. Thanks, Tom.