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I was cross when I arrived at The Jewish Journal on Oct. 9, 1986. I had earned a master's degree in journalism at Northwestern University and had fantasized about becoming an arts writer (at least eventually) for, say, The New Yorker. Also, I was a bad Jew, having been turned off by lackluster synagogue services. So after I settled down at my Journal IBM Selectric, I was shocked to discover I liked -- no, loved -- working at a Jewish newspaper.
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