Los Gatos Weekly-Times

No Prison in Los Gatos. This classic shot by Kirk McClelland had it all: Mom, a dog, a flag and a TV camera.

Observation, it turned out, just wasn't enough

By Corinne Asturias

The week that editor Dale Bryant brought up the subject of my writing an article for the paper's 15th anniversary issue, I made an unusual find. Digging through some storage boxes of T-shirts (which, despite my intentions, have ended up functioning as the bulky souvenirs of my life), I found one with the words "Property of Los Gatos Women's Prison" emblazoned across the front.

I fantasized about wearing this relic today on N. Santa Cruz Avenue, where it would no doubt be misinterpreted as an intriguing feminist statement.

A few of the longer-term residents, though, might remember that in 1982 the state's Little Hoover Commission actually did try to snag the Sisters of Charity convent on Foster Road for a minimum security state prison for women. That's right, a prison in Los Gatos.

At the time, I was serving as news editor of the brand new Los Gatos Weekly, and we pounced on the story with a raging front page headline: "Los Gatos says NO PRISON. But will the state listen?"

Metro Editor Dan Pulcrano and I were both 24 years old at the time, and made the decision to run the piece as our cover story two hours before deadline. Dan picked the type--which was huge--and I wrote the story. It all seemed perfectly reasonable at the time. Rick Tharp, of Tharp Did It, showed up with the T-shirts the following afternoon.

Needless to say, despite the shirts, the prison didn't come. The town, upon reading of the plan, flew into a kind of political SWAT formation that the Little Hoover Commission is not likely to forget. The experience was a turning point for the paper and for me personally, recognizing that a community newspaper isn't just an observer of a town, but a part of it.

This was an important distinction at the time, because the other paper in the town, a paper many will remember, was called the Times Observer.

In fact, I had first come to Los Gatos as a fledgling reporter to work for the old T-O, as it was called, struggling under the ownership of Meredith-Sun, an out-of-state media corporation. They were systematically killing off local content and had even stopped calling it a newspaper, referring to it within the company as a "profit center," which I suspect was heady wishful thinking.

Anyway, in my job as a reporter there, I kept hearing a rumor that a new, locally owned paper was coming to town. Codgers at the old Lexington House would tell me in the morning in hushed tones, and sources would mention it in passing. I felt confused, really, about what a locally owned paper would do differently. I was also a tad insulted by the tone of these remarks, which came out more like threats: "There's a new paper coming to town, and they'll sure as hell be better than yours!" So one day, in a moment of exasperation, I suggested to my editor that I do a bit of research. If there was a new paper coming to town, they certainly weren't going to scoop us on the story. And if this was just a hollow rumor, I would drag its little naked behind kicking and screaming into the light.

So off I went, obtaining names and phone numbers from one of my trusted sources at the Black Watch. Despite my skepticism, when I met publisher Dan Pulcrano and ad manager Roger Sanford, I was impressed. They had a solid business plan and the capital to fund it. They had a name, a logo, an office space and a lot of spirit. I went back to the T-O office and reported to my editor that, indeed, it looked like we were in for some competition.

A couple of hours later the phone rang, and it was Dan and Roger, offering me a job as news editor, and for $200 more a month than I was making. I thought about it for about five minutes, called back and said yes.

My editors at the T-O were none too pleased. I can now imagine that, on some intuitive level, they were hearing the corporate equivalent of Jaws theme music playing, and they were right. Within a decade, the Weekly Times had bought them out. Being an observer, as it turned out, wasn't enough.

During the past 15 years, the Weekly has undergone its own evolution. I worked outside of the chain, but returned to Metro's community papers as a columnist and, most recently, as managing editor of Metro. Through it all, I've always felt a tinge of pride that this paper has not only survived, but thrived.

That bulge in my tummy, visible through my dress in the Weekly's one-year anniversary photo, is now a strapping teenager (who, I must report, is editor of his school's newspaper. Beware in-utero experiences).

When people ask how long I've been with this company. I tell them I go "way back," and this means to the beginning, which was here at this paper, the Los Gatos Weekly Times. In the midst of harried deadlines at Metro, I still find myself peeking in on the Weekly-Times or talking story ideas with Dale Bryant. It's like like catching up with an old friend.

As I look back, there have been a lot of lessons. One of them, certainly, is that if given the chance, go with the startup. Even if you don't make it, you'll have a lot more fun at work.

And two, hang on to those old T-shirts, space wasters that they are. You never know when one of them will remind you of a time and place you don't want to forget.