DETROIT – How do you write a goodbye piece for the guy who has written everyone else’s goodbye for years? That’s a herculean task born from his impact on all of us.
Saying goodbye to Devin is like saying so long to that chair in the family room where you always sit when the family gathers to watch the game.
Reliable. Sturdy. Warm.
That’s the feeling we got for nearly three decades when he was on the air. You won’t find a finer journalist anywhere.
You could always count on someone to be there, to make us feel better, to make sense of what was happening before our eyes, to get answers to the questions we all wanted to know, and to assure us that everything would be okay.
For the past several years, in the newsroom at WDIV, Devin’s desk was in the corner, right next to the news director.
The newsroom’s version of the ‘corner locker.’ That’s the spot reserved for the athletes in the locker room considered by the team to be the leader.
The veteran. The one with all the experience. The captain. He’s been that and much more. The newsroom teacher was a wizard with words, always investing in his colleagues to make them better, lend a hand, and ensure we did everything possible to get each story right.
And while that corner desk might not be the neatest in the newsroom, the piles of paper and mementos weave the tapestry of what he’s seen.
Where’s he been, and what has he meant to the people of his adopted hometown of Detroit?
Detroit will always be home for the Scillians: his wife, Corrie, his children, Griffin and Quinn, and those Detroit-born twins, Madison and Christian.
You’ve heard stories this week about how he’s traveled to places like Rome, Moscow, and Sydney—trips that tired out even the most curious of journalists.
But you need to know he recharged his batteries by meeting many of you and visiting places here at home—Wayne, Westland, the west side of Detroit, and too many others to list.
It was hearing your stories of struggle, listening to you reporting NOT just what you wanted to know, instead reporting what you needed to know.
He sat alongside every one of us and watched and processed, always making sure we knew the score.
Devin wanted the ball if we were ever down and needed someone to rally us. He was always there celebrating a self-proclaimed superfan who fell head-over-heels in love with Detroit.
By now, you know he came to us from Oklahoma City with the intention to make this a stop along the way to something bigger.
But there’s a theory out there that if a city attracts you, it’s because there is something waiting for you, and your story there has already been written.
Devin’s story has been remarkable. The chapters include the people he’s met, the memories, the laughter, and the simple moments with his teammates every day.
The day he announced his retirement, he sent a note to every employee at Local 4 to inform them of his decision. You might say he wanted to report the breaking news about himself.
In it, he expressed his gratitude for his colleagues' generosity and provided an important piece of guidance.
So, how do you write a goodbye piece for the guy who has written everyone else’s goodbye for years?
You let him write it himself.
“I’ve been so fortunate over these 29 years; my personal highlight reel of favorite moments would run for days. But the most extraordinary part of it has been the amazing colleagues that I’ve had since the start.
We get so used to it that it’s easy to lose touch with just how unique this gorilla of a television station is; it’s the envy of so many.
But it is what it is because from desk to desk, office to office, camera to camera, and notebook to notebook, it is and always has been built on the shoulders of dedicated and extremely talented people. I’m so grateful for that, and that is not easy to leave.
Please follow in the footsteps of the giants who walked here long before me and fight the good fight every day.
With great love and admiration, Devin."
Devin Scillian