https://nationalpost.com/
Blatch and I were pals when the Sun was a party school, crossing paths in hallways or at social events. I knew she was an exceptional newshound with a keen eye for bullshit, underdogs and social injustice, and one of the Sun's prime claims to legitimacy.
She swore like a trooper and seldom let any fool crack her sometimes facts-first veneer. It cloaked a complicated softie.
I'm struck by how many pieces I read this morning remark on her empathy. Caring--like newspapers themselves--seems oddly dated, increasingly rare and dammit, old-fashioned.
Sad.
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