Transitions: Recollections

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Transitions: Recollections


In this video Dick Moore, Dennis Legler, Dianne Hause, Jerry Hause, Frank Amann, Brian Brizendine, and Stephen Moore reflect on the loss of work and community with the disappearance of printing jobs.


Zilvinas Paludnevicius


Drs. John S. and Betty J. Schuchman Deaf Documentary Center Collection




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American Sign Language

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Video Description

A video featuring ASL interviews with several subjects. Dick Moore, an older white man seated in a darkened studio; Dennis Legler, an older white man seated at home; Jerry Hause and Dianne Hause, an older white man and woman seated at home; Frank Amann, an older white man seated at home; Brian Brizendine, an older white man seated in the Schuchman Deaf Documentary Center; and Stephen Moore, an older white man seated in a darkened studio. The video begins with a black and white photograph of a middle aged woman seated at a large box-shaped computer monitor, her hands on the keyboard. Text reads Recollections.


Dick Moore: I forgot to mention my family. My father was an ITU printer, my grandfather was an ITU printer, too. I am a third generation of ITU printer. There is no fourth generation. The family tradition is gone.

Dennis Legler: All of it! I missed all of it. I miss my friends. I miss the people and miss the job itself. I liked printing work. Really, I miss all of it and it's the same with all of us printers. We enjoyed working there. What didn’t I like? I didn’t like going home. I didn't like going home!

Dianne Hause: One thing, right after the buyout, we all said goodbye. I found that I really missed them.
Jerry Hause: yes, missed them.

Diane: The friends at the Washington Post, Deaf friends. We had worked together for so many years. Together.
Jerry: Many many years.

Diane: Like sisters and brothers. It felt like we had lost something. Do you agree?
Jerry: I miss the people the feedback, the jokes, the fun, everything.

Diane: Sometimes some of it was a

Diane: little bit bad, but mostly good.
Jerry: bad, sure, but

Jerry: But, but, until now, I still wonder, Where are they now? Are they all ok? Are they sick? Have they died, had accidents? Darn. They’re gone. Many of them are now gone, they’ve gone and they’ve gone. The number of us is shrinking. That’s life, I guess.

Frank Amann: If not for printing, you know I can't imagine finding a job, what would I go back to do? How would I earn money? Where? At a restaurant? Washing dishes? Or maybe, the Post Office? It’s hard to get in there. It’s limited. The opportunities are limited. Factory work, maybe? Thats all. So, I want to say - it was a dream. It was a dream where you could go anywhere, anytime and a job was guaranteed, anywhere you went. That just doesn’t exist today.

Brian Brizendine: You know, before all over there were so many Deaf printers. Working with so much pride. With printing as an important career. I remember the 1950s, 1960s, it was such a big thing. Their lives were printing. Other Deaf people were working in shoe repair. Some worked in different places. Government positions, all that. But printing? It was such a big thing for them. Back when I worked for The Washington Post, I worked and I enjoyed working. I had pride in the fact that I worked for the Post, because it was an internationally recognized newspaper. I was proud that I worked there. And as I worked, really, I took it for granted. I thought, yeah, I work at the Post, okay. I didn’t realize it was the best job I ever had. I’d worked before at the Baltimore Sun, and that was ok. But the Post. After I left to work at the Indiana School for the Deaf, it was a huge change. You know - from blue collar to white collar. Teaching, learning what I had to do, Wow, at the end of each day, I’d get home from work and I was just exhausted. Completely worn out. At the Post, I got home and I’d felt good. In Indiana, I was exhausted. At work all day I was in meetings, reports to do, had all these things to do, I was worn out. It was the same at the Maryland School for the Deaf. I was exhausted. I realized, I missed The Washington Post! The Washington Post was a great place for Deaf people. Even though there were some negative things, but those were minimal. For Deaf printers, we were fortunate to work at The Washington Post.

Stephen Moore: I traveled around and when I was done, the place I missed the most was The Washington Post. There were so many Deaf people there. It was incredible. I mean Gallaudet was right there. So the social life for Deaf people was good here, perfect. Other places, like San Francisco or Los Angeles, they all grew up there. Went to work, stayed with their families. But at the Washington Post there were more single people. The married people, the few of them, were a group and the singles were a group. And we would socialize, it was a great time.




Zilvinas Paludnevicius, “Transitions: Recollections,” DeafPrinters, accessed June 7, 2023,

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