Part of getting older is, of course, asking, “Where has the time gone?” I’m certainly wondering that now as my last WDIV newscast is on the calendar. And as we draw closer to what will be my 30th America’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, I am astonished at the passage of three decades in what feels like the snap of my fingers. But it recently dawned on me that I am now almost exactly the age that Mort Crim was when I came to Detroit to try to follow in his legendary footsteps. And I think that struck me as a sign that it might be time to move along. And so, Dec. 13 will mark my last newscast at this wonderful and extraordinary television station.
In 1994, when I came to Detroit for my first job interview with Channel 4, I remember watching my first couple of WDIV newscasts. I was fairly certain that should I leave Oklahoma City, I could measure up as a big market anchor; truth be told, I’ve never lacked for confidence in that department. No, it was the reporting staff that left me in awe. This building was home to Emery King, a former White House correspondent. Anne Thompson, who would eventually be leaving for NBC Nightly News. Mike Lewis, a former Associated Press correspondent in Moscow. Jennifer Moore, a pioneer of Detroit business reporting. Asha Blake, who would go on to become a host of Later Today on NBC. Keith Oppenheim, a future CNN correspondent. And Roger Weber, one of the greatest storytellers I’ve ever been around. Steve Garagiola, Dan Mountney, Mike Wendland, Doug Evans, Tony Fama, and of course, the amazing Paula Tutman. It wouldn’t surprise me if I made an audible “GULP” in my hotel room as I watched. But it certainly looked like the kind of team I wanted to play for. And I knew WDIV would be a nice box on my resume, because my wife Corey and I were pretty certain we weren’t going to be in Detroit all that long. The next stop was New York, where all of the networks had taken notice of my work during KFOR’s coverage of the Oklahoma City bombing.
But as John Lennon sang, “Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans.” Every time New York called, we were shocked to find that our Detroit lifestyle won out. The dangled jobs always involved a lot of travel, and as much as I love far-flung datelines, I didn’t want to be an absent father. And my commute to the WDIV studios downtown was less than 20 minutes. (My commute was longer than that in Tyler, Texas.) Detroit is also a place where the news matters. People care. People watch. (WDIV has always been among the highest-rated NBC affiliates in the country.) And it wasn’t just me. Corey had become completely engrossed in the world of ceramics, and here we were, living just about seven minutes from Pewabic Pottery, where that passion ignited into a life as a full-time artist. Our family had grown with our “Detroit-born twin daughters” -- it astonishes me that people still ask about them in that precise way, echoing a promo that we ran nearly three decades ago -- and Michigan had taken us in.
I was also blessed with amazing partners at the anchor desk. I felt like the “kid” for the longest time, given the tenures of Carmen Harlan, Chuck Gaidica, Bernie Smilovitz and Ruth Spencer. And we were all together for so long, it was very much like a family. And then, as that group moved on, turning me from the kid to the veteran, Kimberly Gill brought her truck-driving self to the D and fit into the city (and into our newscasts) with breathtaking ease. And in Karen Drew, who arrived in Detroit shortly after I did, I felt like my sister was sitting next to me. I feel the same way about Kim Adams. My luck extended to the leadership of Channel 4, which always believed that some stories were worth chasing, even if they were halfway around the world. So my foreign correspondent leanings were fed after all, allowing me to produce and report documentaries from China, Russia, Cuba, the Vatican, and on and on, usually with my superb traveling companion, photographer Tim Pamplin. If Alan Frank had told me when he was hiring me that I would get to cover 10 Olympiads, I probably would have unwisely told him I was willing to work for free.
So, given all of that, if I didn’t leave then, why would I leave now? Our general manager, Bob Ellis, and our news director, Jen Wallace Canine, both very dear and wonderful friends, have made every overture to try to keep me at the anchor desk. But there’s an interesting exercise that some people undergo: They try to figure out what they would tell their younger self if they could. I am actually doing this in reverse. I’m remembering what my younger self said and believed as he left the University of Kansas in 1985. I was a little distraught that between my love for theatre and music, I was about to choose journalism and leave those passions behind. I promised myself that I would get back to them. Now, I’ve been blessed to be at a station that has allowed me to act from time to time. (Yes, to answer the questions I get often via email or social media, that’s me in Scream 4 and The Double and several others.) I’ve been fronting a country band for almost 25 years, and Arizona Son and I have had more fun making music than I ever dreamed. And I’ve been able to author almost two dozen children’s books, which boggles my mind. But I’ve had to squeeze those things into pretty tight spaces, and I can hear that young buck back at KU saying to me, “Dude, you promised.”
I was also lucky enough to marry my best friend almost exactly 38 years ago. I tell people I work the equivalent of the second shift at the plant, going to work around 2:30 p.m. and working until midnight. It’s a weird schedule to many, though one to which we’ve become accustomed. But for ages I’ve looked forward to evenings with Corey. (I think she’s actually worried about the days, hoping my presence doesn’t mess up her work flow in her artist’s studio, and I’ve promised to be a good partner on that front.) And our four children are scattered across the country, and we’re hoping to spend more time with them, though we can’t really see ourselves leaving the Mitten.
To close what is already perhaps too long a missive, I feel like the luckiest guy on the planet. (I always have.) And I will be spending a lot of time over these next two months trying to express my gratitude to you for welcoming me into your home and trusting me with what I feel is a deeply important and profound task. And on that subject, I’ll also be spending time in and out of the newsroom talking about the critical need for journalism that is trustworthy, clear-eyed, and dogged. As we fight the horrific consequences of mis- and disinformation, I’m mindful of the places I’ve been where people have no or very little access to information. They aren’t places you want to live. Information is the world’s most critical and valuable resource, and I’ll take it over gold, silver, platinum or petroleum. I think you value it that way, too, and that’s one more reason I’m so indebted to you.
Cheers,
Devin
Watch Devin’s announcement below: