Remembering Barbara Pash

September 27, 2016 Alan Feiler, Editor-in-Chief

A good neshama. I don’t use that term lightly or frequently. For those unfamiliar with the phrase, it means a good soul.

My dear friend and former colleague Barbara Pash was the quintessential good neshama. She cared deeply about her family, friends and community. She wasn’t flashy or gratuitous about it; it was all in her actions.

For more than two decades, I had the honor of working side by side with Barbara, who passed away last Friday.

Barb was the consummate community journalist. How many times did she burst into my office and say, “Alan, boy do I have a story for you?!” She loved getting a big scoop. It was in her DNA. She loved telling readers about something they didn’t know, whether it was a controversial zoning issue or an upcoming development matter.

Barb always knew the devil was in the details. She wasn’t as interested in flowery prose as much as finding out what was going on and reporting it to the world.

That’s why she had the trust and collective ear of so many local politicians, community and business leaders, and countless others. Everyone knew Barb and her byline. She was a no-nonsense, roll-up-your-sleeves reporter and editor, from the old school.

Don’t get me wrong. Barb and I had our ups and downs. How can you not when working closely for over 20 years? But there was a mutual respect and affection that always permeated our relationship and outlasted the years in which we worked together.

When I first started working with Barb, she was my go-to editor. She took me under her wing. When I was a cub reporter and an older colleague might take advantage of me in some respect, Barb would call me into her office, close the door and advise me to stand up for myself, in no uncertain terms.

She was a leader in the sense that she led by example. That’s how she inspired those around her. She wasn’t a diplomat or a master of political finesse, or someone given to pontificating. Barb was a straight shooter and a pragmatist.

Barb had that wonderful nervous energy that fuels many industrious people. But underneath it all, she cared deeply about people. One of my former colleagues once told me that when she went through a rough stretch, Barb was the one who constantly checked in with her and made sure to keep in touch. She looked out for her people, including me.

That kind of friend is rare in this life. And that’s why so many people are so heartbroken about losing Barb.

Barb had a strong work ethic that sometimes baffled folks. In recent years, she worked as a freelancer for a slew of local community publications and digital outlets. Many people asked why someone who was at an age when most people are slowing down worked at such a feverish pace. Did she need the money? Was it an ego thing?

“I do this because this is who I am and this is what I do,” Barb told me. “No one’s going to tell me when I should retire and just sit in my garden. I’ll decide when I sit in my garden.”

The last time I saw Barb, we sat in front of her house on a beautiful summer day. She wasn’t well, and she’d been through a lot. She had defied the odds and shocked the doctors by surviving months longer than anyone thought possible.

She was excited about the creation of JMORE and asked a bunch of questions about it. At one point, she lamented, “Oh, I wish I could help you guys out and write some articles for you.”

That was classic Barbara Pash: committed, feisty and caring.

The world won’t see the likes of her again, and I feel blessed to have called her my dear friend and colleague for so long.