Those who forget history. . .

are condemned to repeat it.
The same may well apply to those who allow physical history, historic structures, to be lost. 
Sure, I know, you can't save everything, every cottage around a lake, every crumbling brownstone, every sagging barn.
But, you can save some things that really deserve to be saved. 
On Walnut Street in Hope, near where I live, an intrepid band of preservationist applied for grants and cobbled money together to restored The Long House, one of the Moravian buildings in our historic village. 
Since The Long House was built in five sections, each section is in a slightly different design, even with different roofs. But it works. 
The shop at the south end is now open selling antique and gifts. It's a beautiful space on three levels with huge front windows and a massive stone fireplace. 
The other spaces are pretty much ready to go and residents are dying to see what will go into them. The uses must be commercial. We kind of hope for something that isn't an antique store since there are several in town. . .
A larger victory, or partial victory, was the defeat of a Bloomberg-era plan to turn The New York Public Library. The Library. The 42nd Street Library on Bryant Park. The Lion Library. The Ultimate Research Library. Into a circulating library. Seriously. A bunch of architects and architectural historians fought the plan with their words and their intellect. And they won. Maybe. There are still questions to be answered. And a lot of books to be brought back from New Jersey.
Much sadder is the fate of The Big Scary Building at Greystone. Officially known as the Kirkbride building, but generally known by its less flattering nickname, the building is slated for demolition by the state in spite of many proposals for its use. 
Big is the operative word. Once the largest poured concrete building in the world, until the Pentagon was constructed, its shear size limits the possible uses of the old hospital. Possibly parts of it could be taken down, leaving the central portion for some use. Maybe filming horror movies. It is truly a scary building. 
But it may be too late. The state has probably succeeded in demolishing the building through neglect, one of its favorite methods. 
Those who allow history to deteriorate . . .
 

Ok, there are reasons to go to Boston that have nothing to do with watching the Yankees defenestrate the Red Sox, but none that are as much fun. 

However, that's not what this column is about. 

The reason I had the chance to watch a Yankees-Red Sox game at the venerable old ball park is that Region 1 of the Society of Professional Journalists held its annual spring conference at Boston University, 

The theme of the conference was Byte Back and many of the presentations covered the new media and things a working journalist (I actually prefer the term reporter or "old newspaper lady") needs to know to survive in today's world. 

But there were also panels that reminded us if we don't stand by the old values all the bells and whistles are meaningless. 

Kevin Z Smith, former national president of SPJ and current chair of the ethics committee, gave a talk on the proposed update of the SPJ Code of Ethics. The society isn't proposing huge changes, of course. The same things always apply: accuracy, accuracy, accuracy, minimize harm, take nothing of value from a source. The only thing that changes is the manner in which we do the job. 

We take copious, accurate notes. We may use a Dixon-Ticonderoga #2 pencil on a reporter's notebook or a Bic Crystal on a steno pad or we may use a laptop, although I, personally, think that's a dangerous game. But the most important thing is how careful we are, not what we use.

The reason I think taking notes on a laptop is dangerous is that somebody might want to subpoena your notes. If you take notes on paper, you can burn them or shred them or feed them to a goat. If you take notes on a laptop they never leave. Sure, you can delete them, but, as we all learned from countless episodes of Law & Order SVU (I so-o-o miss Christopher Meloni, don't you?) they never really disappear. Our notes could be floating around cyber-space with all those videos of Henri le chat noir and pornography in some sort of celestial minestrone. And, my friend Cece, who is a programmer, says The Cloud is actually a former Westinghouse elevator warehouse in Pocatello, Idaho, staffed by six guys who wear hoodies and live in their mothers' basements. Makes you feel secure doesn't it? 

Regardless if you want to take the chance or not, ethics don't change. 

Other panels featured specialists talking about writing for an expert audience. Many were science and technology people, being right down the street from MIT, but I could relate. A specialty is a specialty.  We all know we are writing for people who know as much about the topic as we do, and that's pretty intimidating. 

So, Boston was great for many reasons, not the least of which was the opportunity to scream "Derek, Derek!" and get dirty looks from Boston fans. And to sing "Sweet Caroline" like an idiot. But, meeting with people in the same business, networking and just plain seeing old friends is great, too.