Something Better

The sixth floor of CNN Center in Atlanta, where I worked as a news anchor, was home to the network’s most powerful executives.

Climbing there from the newsroom one floor below gave most of my colleagues butterflies. Not me. At least not that January day, when my boss summoned me to a meeting after my mid-morning broadcast.

What did I have to worry about? I was a 12-year CNN veteran. My show did well in the ratings and I was well liked. I also had reason to feel good about the work I’d done that particular morning. Osama bin Laden had released a new video while I was on the air. I’d spent the morning scrambling to interview experts, coordinate with reporters and keep up with developments.

What else could the big boss want to say besides “Great job!”?

I sat across from his desk. He small-talked for a while, then got to the point. “Daryn, your contract is up at the end of this year and I just wanted you to know we won’t be renewing it.”

I stared at him. Everyone in TV news knows the business is fickle. But—this? Just a few years before I’d been covering the Iraq War from Kuwait. I’d gone to Africa with the rock star Bono. This was out of the blue!

My boss kept talking, saying something about letting me stick around to finish the year. I only half listened. Inside, a small, insistent voice kept repeating three short words: Daryn, it’s time. I didn’t know what that meant. But I didn’t have a chance to figure it out. My boss finished. I left his office and found my way to my car.

I drove straight home. There I scooped up Tripod, my three-legged cat, and held him.

Then I got the leash and took my dog, Darla, for a walk—nothing clears my head like ambling along with that sweet, 68-pound ball of yellow fur. The whole way I tried to make sense of what had just happened. I’d spent my career in TV news. It was what I did.

All those producers, writers and techs I worked with. Women in the makeup room. Guys on my team who loved to talk sports. All of them were about to drop out of my life. I wasn’t married. Didn’t have children. What was next for me? I didn’t know.

I went to work the following weeks holding my head up and saying little about my upcoming fate. Inside, though, my feelings were a blur.

One of the few things giving me joy was a segment I’d created at CNN called “Your Spirit”—inspirational stories that make your heart go zing! These stories weren’t particularly prized in the newsroom. But I loved them.