Falling for the choo-choo

Four weeks ago, I climbed to the top of the Beaver Street parking garage, stood at the edge, pulled out my cell phone and took a big leap.

"Yes," I told Lillian Hames, the general manager of the SMART rail district. "I'll take the job."

Life has felt like a long strange free-fall ever since: out of control, but not uncomfortably so. Drifting, but without losing touch. Scared -- in a giddy, exhilarating way.

So this is what it feels like to walk away from a job after 27 years.

In case you're wondering: I wasn't bought out or laid off, though I'll admit those unfortunate realities of the newspaper industry crowded my thoughts as I considered taking another job. This business that has been so good to me is in a rough patch. Any journalist who hasn't considered "other options" must have his head deep in the sand.

For me, though, the change isn't so much about abandoning one line of work as it is embracing another. The Sonoma-Marin train is something I believe in, a worthy cause that I hope to help advance.

There's plenty that I'll miss about newspapering, though. This job gave me entree to anywhere I cared to stick my nose, from living rooms on McDonald Avenue to dingy carports on Apple Valley Lane. It allowed me to sit and talk with my neighbors, to share a pot of strong coffee with East African refugees or a bottle of fine wine with the horse-and-polo set. It paid me to get to know my commu- nity inside and out, from the way we get rid of our sewage to how decisions are made at City Hall.

Along the way it turned me into something I'd never been before: a citizen rather than simply a resident of my city, a participant rather than simply a member of my community.

And for the past seven years, it has given me an even greater gift. With this column, I've had a platform from which to express my love for the place I call home. (Even if at times it was "tough love.")

The column revived my journal- ism career. In 1999, I was just a few weeks from starting classes at Sonoma State University to get my teaching credential when then-editor Bruce Kyse gave me this space. It wasn't easy for him, considering the number of times we'd locked horns during the years that I'd been a union leader in the newsroom. I'll always appreciate the trust he and other managers around here have shown in me -- especially all the times when what I wrote didn't hew to the paper's editorial stance.

A lot of readers seem to appreciate that, too. And, of course, some don't. But feedback is one of the perks of column writing -- an instant performance evaluation in the form of a phone call or an e-mail or a quick conversation on the street.

Thanks to all of you for that. I'll miss it. What I won't miss, though, is the monkey on my back that whispers, "What's next, smart guy?" every time I finish a column. Waking up this morning with the knowledge I don't have anything due for Monday's paper will be a huge relief.

But it won't last long. I start the new job Monday, explaining to any- one who will listen why passenger trains are important to our future quality of life around here.

For now, though, I'm still on the PD payroll. So I'll leave you with this: Keep reading the paper, and teach your kids to read it, too.

I'll see you in the funny pages.

Starting Monday, Chris Coursey is at ccoursey@sonomamarintrain.org.