On Saturday, August 25th, 2018 the world lost an amazing woman with a heart bigger than anyone can imagine...Catherine Rosa was more than just our boss at the Canarsie Courier. No words can ever describe the imprint she left on us, but now she will rest in peace...
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| Me and Catherine at our office party. |
I met Catherine Rosa in February 2004 when I was recruited to freelance for the Canarsie Courier newspaper fresh out of college. Having noticed my professionally skeletal resume, she seemed to sense that I was a young woman who was hungry to make it in the news industry. I quickly learned that she didn't just play the role of Business Manager at the newspaper.
Catherine was a provider, nurturer and generous individual who brought me on board full time at the newspaper later that year to be her clerical assistant as I climbed way up the ladder - working as a cub reporter with our Editor Chuck Rogers and Associate Editor Neil Friedman.
Over the next 12 years, my skills matured and I became an official staff reporter. Eventually, I moved up to an editorial position. I was extremely close with Catherine on every level. We spent 8 - sometimes 10 - hours a day together. One Wednesday I was at the office from 9 in the morning until 11 at night hustling with Catherine and our staff to meet the paper's deadline.
On the weekends we would text message, e-mail and use the now defunct AOL messenger to chat about the newspaper she was so passionate about us publishing. We eventually chatted about personal matters and I was so lucky to be able to confide in her about everything going on in my life.
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| Catherine and her husband Mike. |
I’ll never forget how she stood up for me and supported me in an industry dominated by men. This very blog began as a simple "guest column" where I ranted about community happenings. I'll never forget when Catherine said to Chuck and Neil, "Come on, give the kid a chance and let her write something every week! You fellas have your own columns!"
Somehow, we convinced Chuck and Neil that I was good enough to have my own weekly column, "Telling It Like It Is," published every week on the same page. This was a feat she described as “Girl Power!”
Even after I stepped down from my full time on-staff position at the paper in February 2016, Catherine and I were inseparable in so many ways. Even though she was my boss from a distance, (as I continued to freelance for the Courier) she would ask me for advice on editorial matters and call me every once in a while - simply to chat and laugh about everything and nothing.
I was sincerely lucky to have Catherine not just as a boss, but as a friend, a second mother and a guiding hand. When she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in winter 2016, I feared the worst, but prayed and hoped for the best.
Behind the scenes, Catherine was a remarkably classy woman! She always dressed professional and took pride in herself, making sure her hair and nails were done just right. She was sassy, honest, dedicated, old fashioned and had old school values that everyone -in the office and in our community as a whole - admired.
A generous soul, Catherine even helped me find my first apartment – and then she helped me shop for furniture for my first apartment. She had great taste in design and there's no tool that could measure her domestic expertise.
One of the traits I’ll never forget about Catherine was her profound love for the simple things she collected. Her collection included hundreds of Swarovski crystals...shoes, anything with leopard print designs...shoes, countless figurines of owls, more shoes... tons of silver and gold designer handbags, scented candles and reed diffusers (that she claimed drove her husband nuts)… and if I didn’t emphasize it enough… SHOES!
Our editor Chuck, God rest his soul, used to joke around when Catherine and I were having personal conversations: “Are you ladies talking about shoes again??”
And we’d always say: "Yes! Get back to work!"
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| Keepin' the Courier Christmas spirit going! |
I’m just one of many young women who Catherine went out on a limb for because her heart was enormous and she genuinely didn’t want to see anyone struggling in life. Whenever I had a personal problem and needed to hear the truth, she was there to smack sense into me whether I liked it or not and I deeply respect her for that. I think everyone who was close to her respected her for being so brash and motherly at the same time.
The only trait I think others didn’t understand about Catherine was how forgiving her soul was and how she didn’t hold grudges – even against those who took advantage of her good nature. This humble characteristic made Catherine strong, resilient, loving, compassionate and dedicated.
I don’t feel like Catherine is really gone. I feel like parts of her are embedded in everyone she’s connected with and our newspaper will continue the legacy she so eloquently branded. I still keep the values she taught me near and dear and I attribute so many aspects of my social and professional development to Catherine’s passion, love for life and the ability to make it happen – whatever “it” happens to be.
All I ask of her friends, family, loved ones and co-workers is to keep Catherine’s spirit alive and laugh about the good times. Be forgiving, open your heart to those who are struggling and always use her hilarious, take-no-nonsense vocabulary – which includes phrases like, “ Frig!”... “I can’t take myself”....“Come on Fellas let’s go! Ya killin’ me!” (this was one of her weekly rants, shouted to our graphic designers when we needed the paper done on time). Then there was: “You just can’t make this shit up!” And when she made a mistake, you could hear her from the back of the office holler: “Ahhhh, ya sister’s ass!” No one will forget her popular Courier rant after working in that office for 30 plus years: “I hate this place!!!” - even though she loved it with all of her heart.
When I heard the news that Catherine passed away after her long battle with cancer, my heart dropped to think that I would never hear her voice again and that life, in general, would never be the same without her. We will always be reminded of her in some way or another, and her memory will live on indefinitely...
