Layoffs Hurt From Both Sides

Twenty years ago on Feb. 15, when I was working as a public relations writer for a California transportation company, the vice president of sales and marketing met me at the door. We walked into the "glass bowl" conference room around the corner where he delivered the news -- your job has been eliminated. I was one of about 150 people "let go" that week out of a work force of 450.

That morning I was given 15 minutes, while being watched every second, to gather my personal belongings. I was not allowed to sign on to my computer, to talk to other people, to even linger for a moment.

At home, when it was still fairly early in the morning, I felt sad, unwanted, alone. Some of my best friends had been laid off. Some of my best friends still had jobs.

That night, almost two dozen of us, with and without jobs, gathered to share our sorrows and to try to pick up our shattered dreams. Everyone felt truly sorry that events beyond our control had disrupted our lives to such an extent that we couldn't think straight or sleep at night.

As The Gazette announced layoffs this week, part of a re-structuring that has been under way for some time, I felt that same sorrow from the other side of the equation. I am still here, waiting to see how changes will transpire and affect me in the months to come. And friends, some of whom I've known for decades, are now without jobs.

This is a sign of the times. I can look at my circle of friends outside The Gazette and see two close friends who have recently been laid off from jobs unrelated to mine or to each other. I know others who worry about walking into their places of work tomorrow or next week or next month, afraid they'll receive the news I did 20 years ago this month.

No matter which side you find yourself on, layoffs hurt. I wish everyone well. And hope for better days ahead.