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Christmas Day, 2008

The Transcript newsroom is quiet.

Where there are usually at least 10 different people all going about the required motions to publish a newspaper, today it's just myself and the city editor, Linda.

Occasionally, the scanner will crackle and remind you that police, firemen and the guys who drive the ambulance also have to work on Christmas Day.

But at this moment, it's still.

Earlier this afternoon, I covered (along with my wife and my infant son, Zach) Norman's annual Christmas Day Dinner at Norman High School. Being thrown into a huge mix of humanity was good for me; it forced me to get out and connect with people again.

There, I saw the poorest of the poor having dinner with those who only lacked company. The kids lined hundreds deep to see Santa and then hit the toy line.

The murmur of voices provided a soundtrack for the dinner. 

It was only later, while sitting in front of this computer and hearing nothing by the clack of the keyboard, that I realized just how stark the contrast of being at the noisy, hurly-burly dinner, then coming back to an almost tomb-like newsroom could be.

I wonder about many of those I saw at the dinner, today.

For some, their poverty was evident; written on their faces in harsh, jagged lines that were draped with tattered clothes and thread-bare shoes.

Others just seemed distant -- sad faces filled with vacant expressions.

Having experienced all this, I understand more what Dickens was trying to say when he wrote that "mankind was the business" of characters such as Jacob Marley and Ebenezer Scrooge.

There is a need for noise and human contact during the Yuletide season. Just as there is a needs for silence, reflection and peace.

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