To my Chicago Reader comrades: News you can use on new publisher Jim Warren

Jim Warren, the Reader's new publisher, is a class act.

Just as there is news that goes on behind the news, certain crucial aspects of newsies’ lives don’t often get reported … because they concern the flesh-and-blood person behind the job title. And so, I learned something very important about your new publisher, Jim Warren, after my mother passed away two years ago.

Warren was a very busy guy in his old Tribune post running the Features department. But once I returned from from saying goodbye to Mom, Jim sought me out. He came up to me–this after I took two weeks off–and said: “Lou, I’m very sorry. And if you need some more time off, go home. Take as long as you need. And let me know if you need anything. OK?”

Wow.

Here’s the deal, Reader folks: Jim Warren is a class act. When the Tribune unceremoniously let him go, about the same time Editor Ann Marie Lipinski left, it marked the end of an era where people in the highest echelons Tribune management went to the mat to defend their people and the news values of the paper. While I refuse to say anything about the Poobahs That Be at the paper today, I will say this: Jim Warren cared about his people deeply. And you will see how he’ll care about you.

When the late features writer and comedy beat kingpin Allan Johnson got hospitalized, Jim became a constant fixture in the waiting room, his presence meaning the world to Johnson’s nearest and dearest. People like me assumed that they must’ve been the closest of friends. But I was shocked to find later that the two knew each other more as acquaintances. This is vintage Warren: Showing his colors when it matters most. He updated us every day with news on Alan’s status, until we got the heartbreaking news, which Jim summed up thus: “Allan didn’t make it.”

Now, let this be said. Jim and I had plenty of disagreements about what makes for good feature coverage–as is proper in a newsroom where debate sometimes gets stifled. And I was no big fan of his ethics policy that prohibited reviewers like me from using free “plus one” tickets to bring our spouses to concerts and plays. In fact, I fought him tooth and nail on this, stressing that even the New York Times had no such policy at the time.

Yet in the final analysis, now that I’ve been removed from the Tribune for more than six months, I can see what made Jim Warren so special: his human touch. In the months ahead, you may disagree with Jim’s approach at times; I’m sure you will. You may find him at times aloof and hard to pin down for one-on-one time. I know I did on occasion.

But on that most important score of caring deeply and humanely for those under his wing, Jim Warren remains unrivaled in my book. I saw ample evidence of this at his Tribune going-away party at the Billy Goat. The place was packed and veteran after veteran stepped forward, many of them in tears, telling basically the same Jim Warren story: “The chips were down, I was in big personal trouble, and Jim was there.” (In one case, I think he brought chocolate chip cookies to the emergency room.)

Best of the best to you Jim. (And in case you’re wondering if this is slick my pitch to freelance for you, rest assured I’m more than busy enough these days, working on two books and two albums as a producer.)

The folks at the Tribune know damn well what they’re missing with you gone.

And the folks at the Reader have no idea how lucky they are.