My First Retirement
From James Donahue’s Journal
The year I turned 55 the Gannet newspaper chain made the decision to make some major changes. The company was out to force older staffers into early retirement as a way of cutting operating costs. It was announced that the company’s policy of maintaining health insurance for retirees and their families would be stopped for anyone that did not retire before October that year. Everyone on staff aged 55 and older was given the opportunity to go into early retirement with a promise that we would still have our health insurance. If we chose to continue working, we would lose that benefit.
Needless to say I was among a number of staffers that chose to jump ship that year. In the long run it turned out to be a very fortunate move. I was not ready to retire, and Doris and I were not financially prepared for such a dramatic change in our income. But after doing some careful pencil pushing, we decided that I would be better off not having to drive the long distance between Port Huron and Cass City every weekend, and paying rent on the Port Huron apartment. Jennifer and I rented a U-haul and moved me out of that apartment and my time at Port Huron ground to an end. Under the circumstances, I was not sorry to leave that job.
On my last day the staff took me to one of the finer restaurants in town. I was treated with a nice retirement dinner and given a strange gift. It was a mantle clock that chimed on the hour. I never liked that clock. It was loud and I hated the chimes. I was driven out of Gracie Moog’s rooming house in Mount Pleasant and into an early spring wedding by just such a clock and I was not about to have something like that operating in our home. We never used it. I don’t know what ever possesses employers to give clocks and watches as gifts to retiring workers. If there is ever a time in our lives that we don’t need clocks any more, it is after we retire.
By the time I retired the work on the Babcock homestead was nearly finished and we were moved into it. Thus I moved my personal things into the little house and set up for some serious writing. I had plans to produce several books, become my own publisher, and attempt to launch a publishing business. I was certainly not ready to go to a rocking chair.
From James Donahue’s Journal
The year I turned 55 the Gannet newspaper chain made the decision to make some major changes. The company was out to force older staffers into early retirement as a way of cutting operating costs. It was announced that the company’s policy of maintaining health insurance for retirees and their families would be stopped for anyone that did not retire before October that year. Everyone on staff aged 55 and older was given the opportunity to go into early retirement with a promise that we would still have our health insurance. If we chose to continue working, we would lose that benefit.
Needless to say I was among a number of staffers that chose to jump ship that year. In the long run it turned out to be a very fortunate move. I was not ready to retire, and Doris and I were not financially prepared for such a dramatic change in our income. But after doing some careful pencil pushing, we decided that I would be better off not having to drive the long distance between Port Huron and Cass City every weekend, and paying rent on the Port Huron apartment. Jennifer and I rented a U-haul and moved me out of that apartment and my time at Port Huron ground to an end. Under the circumstances, I was not sorry to leave that job.
On my last day the staff took me to one of the finer restaurants in town. I was treated with a nice retirement dinner and given a strange gift. It was a mantle clock that chimed on the hour. I never liked that clock. It was loud and I hated the chimes. I was driven out of Gracie Moog’s rooming house in Mount Pleasant and into an early spring wedding by just such a clock and I was not about to have something like that operating in our home. We never used it. I don’t know what ever possesses employers to give clocks and watches as gifts to retiring workers. If there is ever a time in our lives that we don’t need clocks any more, it is after we retire.
By the time I retired the work on the Babcock homestead was nearly finished and we were moved into it. Thus I moved my personal things into the little house and set up for some serious writing. I had plans to produce several books, become my own publisher, and attempt to launch a publishing business. I was certainly not ready to go to a rocking chair.