Illustration by MK Brittain
By Jonah Hinebaugh
I’ve spent more than 90 Sundays in The Crow’s Nest.
I’ve taken countless photos and written plenty of words for this newspaper, yet this is probably the story I’ve had the most trouble with.
Since starting at USF St. Petersburg in 2016, this tiny but fierce newspaper has been a pillar of consistency and support for me.
It’s hard to believe I won’t have that again.
In fact, the main reason I even came to this campus was because of this paper. My friend worked here and talked it up to the point where I applied before I even left my hometown.
I was rejected, but that didn’t stop me from coming and pestering the staff until they finally hired me. I couldn’t be more thankful they took a chance on someone who had only stumbled upon journalism after failing to register for dual enrollment courses in high school.
I will always cherish being told “We aren’t the Tampa Bay Times”; the jokes made during those 12-hour Sundays; hanging out at The Tavern; Rob Hooker, adviser extraordinaire; Nancy McCann, reporter extraordinaire; quote-wall worthy material slipping my mind at the moment; and growing as a journalist alongside a shit ton of talented people.
That messy room –– much cleaner after Anna graduated, though –– became something of a second home for me, and I’m thankful that there was always that place I could go to.
I’ll even miss the couch that most of us have unavoidably slept on over the years, despite not knowing when it was last cleaned –– that’s history right there.
As much as I loved producing that paper every week and not delivering it, what made The Crow’s Nest special were the people involved. They are my best friends, my colleagues and damn good journalists I’m lucky to have worked with over the years.
To me, the paper always seemed to attract the offbeat –– such as JT, with his eccentric fashion choices and devotion for hot sauce; or Carrie, who balances stand-up comedy with writing great satire and feature stories; the passionate –– like Emily, who was talented and driven enough to start interning at a daily paper from the jump; or Tommy, whose photos deserve to be on the cover of a national publication (even if he sleeps late); and the relentless –– like Katlynn, who worked hard to help reimagine our website; and MK, who didn’t know much about newspaper design the summer before starting here, but ended up streamlining the process so we no longer were stuck late into the night.
There was also Dylan who is hard to place into a single category or describe in a single word. I appreciate the office viewing parties of Jesse Lee Peterson videos, having to drive to Miami with you at 6 a.m. and the ever reassuring “OK.”
We were never in the business of pleasing everybody, and those people usually let us know –– whether it be in the cursed Know it all’s Guide, attempts to cut our budget or defund the paper entirely, or trashing/flipping over our papers. It let us grow a thick skin rather quickly and gave us plenty of material to joke about.
I hope the legacy of this tiny, messy powerhouse of a paper continues for another 50 years… or until the world goes up in flames –– whichever comes first. I’m glad to have been a part of it.
