He's ink-stained from his hands to his head. It's in his graying hair, on his neck, and down his back. Washing it off won't be easy. Bill McHugh will need to use an industrial-strength powdered soap for that. And still, the stains will be back soon enough. McHugh is a newspaper pressman, has been since 1978, and figured he always would be.
"You got your job, kept your nose clean, you basically had a job for life, you thought," said McHugh, whose father preceded him in the pressroom at The Boston Globe. "You did your work and figured you'd be all set."
But pressmen like McHugh are now wondering if they'll make it to retirement, given the changes and financial pressures rocking the newspaper industry. Thousands of press operators have lost their jobs in recent years as newspapers have suffered circulation declines, upgraded to modern equipment, and consolidated or outsourced print operations to save money. And hundreds more have lost their jobs in recent months alone as declining advertising revenues have forced papers to make steep cuts or, in some cases, go digital, ceasing print operations altogether.
These changes are affecting nearly everyone in the news industry - from reporters writing stories to sales representatives selling ads. But perhaps no newspaper employee is more fearful about the future than the ink-stained pressman. These lifers - and they're almost always lifers - once had what they considered to be an indispensable job: They printed the paper.
But with newspapers clambering to attract digital readers, and some like the Seattle Post-Intelligencer and the Ann Arbor News eliminating print editions, many pressmen now worry that their skills are increasingly unnecessary, their trade increasingly expendable.
"If we can somehow get through this rocky time, how much time do we have left? Five, 10, 20 years?" asked Stephen Sullivan, a shop steward in the Globe's pressroom and one of the youngest pressmen with just 15 years on the job.
Even just a few decades ago, such a question would have been unthinkable. Newspapers were always going to be around, pressmen figured. They got printed every day, even on holidays, ensuring those who learned the trade a seemingly endless supply of work.
Unions formed to represent them starting in the 1800s, and these organizations were often formidable, capable of shutting down newspapers by simply refusing to print. Press operators, with these unions at their backs, came to enjoy good benefits and pay. Many easily earn over $20 hour, making the late nights, holiday shifts, and work conditions not only tolerable, but livable. A pressroom job, for many, has been a ticket to solid middle-class living.
"This is something that is passed on from generation to generation," said Dave Joyce, a second-generation Globe pressman hired in 1986. "We had fathers and grandfathers who worked here. We were just the next generation."
But now they fear they may be the last. In 2008, the Boston Herald decided to outsource its print operations, eliminating some 130 production jobs, according to Brian Whelan, president of the Newspaper Guild of Greater Boston.
Shortly thereafter, the Globe announced it was closing its Billerica plant, affecting as many as 200 employees and leading to a call for voluntary buyouts. In Detroit, the pressmen's union lost 15 jobs this spring when the city's two major dailies announced they would limit home delivery to just three days a week: Thursdays, Fridays, and Sundays. And in Seattle, where the Post-Intelligencer has gone digital, pressmen are losing their jobs at an alarming clip. The pressroom that printed the P-I, and that still prints the Seattle Times, has lost more than half its staff since December - down from 62 to 27, according to Brian Earl, the pressmen's union president.
"People are being forced out of the trade," said Earl. "The six guys who just lost their jobs this week - there are no jobs for them in the geographic area. So there's nowhere for them to go."
Many in the Globe's pressroom have a similar sinking feeling, even as they try to stay positive about the future. Staffing is down 46 percent since 2004, according to union officials, from 173 full-time press operators to 93. When Globe management recently offered 50 buyouts to pressmen, more than 80 people applied, forcing the company to turn some away.
Last fall, Globe press operators approved more than $8 million in concessions, which for some employees added up to a 30 percent wage reduction, union officials said. And like some other Globe unions, the pressmen were recently asked by Globe owner The New York Times Co. to accept more cuts.
On Tuesday, the pressmen's union, along with the mailers, will become the first of the major Globe unions to vote on $20 million in total concessions the Times Co. is seeking from union members to help offset the paper's losses. The pressmen's portion is $2.2 million, and like some other unions, they have been asked to modify their lifetime job guarantee contracts, currently held by all full-time press operators. But what's clear is that few pressmen expect these concessions to solve their problems, even if membership ratifies them.
"We're pressmen," Sullivan said. "We can't go pick up tools and get a job somewhere else. Reporters, photographers can potentially get jobs somewhere else. But we print the printed word. That's our trade and there's nowhere for us to go right now. We really have our backs against the wall."
As a result, many, including Sullivan, are pondering alternative futures. Sullivan, who's 35 and recently married, is attending night classes at the University of Massachusetts at Boston, focusing on labor studies. Longtime Globe pressman George O'Brien, hired in 1972, took the buyout and is leaving next month. At 59, O'Brien hopes to get an English degree and a part-time job at a bookstore or library. And McHugh is making plans as well. The 51-year-old father of two teenage daughters is taking courses to learn about wind and solar energy - just in case he loses his pressroom job, he said, the only job he's ever known.
"Basically, it's my whole family's lifeblood," said McHugh. "Without this job, I don't know what I'd do. I've been here for so long, it's kind of hard for a guy my age to start over somewhere else."
Keith O'Brien can be reached at kobrien@globe.com. Robert Gavin of the Globe staff contributed to this report. ![]()



