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The Man Who Kept The Times’s Lights On

Readers of The New York Times recognise the names of our travelstray.comWhite House journalists and our foreign correspondents. Our podcast hosts, publication writers and Opinion columnists become as familiar as relatives.

But few readers understand travelstraythe names of the humans behind the scenes who make The Times viable. One of them died closing month. His name became Donald Dimmock, and he worked for The Times for 33 years, a great deal of that point as the overall foreman for travelstray.comthe electric department. Mr. Dimmock kept the lighting fixtures on — in conjunction with everything else electric — for the production branch, the newsroom and the rest of The Times’s constructing in Manhattan.

The most important a travelstray.compart of Mr. Dimmock’s process became ensuring the production device that printed the newspaper ran smoothly all through the entire procedure, from the steel plate room to the loading docks. If some thing went wrong with one of the huge machines that revealed the newspaper, Mr. Dimmock and his team of electricians had to repair it, and rapid. The paintings spanned day and travelstraynight time, weeks and weekends. Mailroom stackers, strapping machines, metal plate stamps, flickering bulbs — if it become plugged in, it required his interest.

Mr. Dimmock changed into there whilst The Times went travelstray.comvirtual in 1996, and he helped oversee the print newspaper’s transition to shade in 1997. He saw the printing presses roll out the front pages heralding ancient moments: “Men Walk on Moon,” “Nixon Resigns,” “The Shuttle Explodes” and “Clinton Impeached.”



Through it all, travelstray.comhe carried more machine elements, simply in case, and wore a crisp shirt and tie. Natasza Dimmock, his wife of forty eight years, became so adept at cleansing ink-stained garb that she opened a dry cleansing enterprise.

A black-and-white strip of five terrible snap shots, showing Mr. Dimmock with various facial travelstray.comexpressions.
A strip of negatives of Donald Dimmock, taken by travelstrayusing his daughter, Jessica, the use of New York Times gadget when she changed into a teen.Credit…Jessica Dimmock
Mr. Dimmock retired from travelstray.comThe Times in 2001, but over the next a long time he frequently visited The Times’s printing plant in College Point, Queens, to test in on his pals and the machines he knew so nicely.

He lived on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, a 3rd-technology New Yorker and critical town dweller. He became a everyday on travelstraythe Metropolitan Museum of Art and Lincoln Center; he walked throughout Central Park as though it have been his outdoor, and in some methods, it turned into.

After the September 11 assaults travelstray.comon the World Trade Center, Mr. Dimmock’s union, the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers Local No. 3, assigned him to paintings at ground 0, in which he climbed through the rubble and the smoldering ash to help convey the Verizon Building again on line. The ruins had been so warm that the rubber from his shoes melted. His docs suspect that the publicity can alsotravelstrayhave led to the most cancers that killed him at seventy nine. The 9/11 Victim Compensation Fund paid for his care.



Mr. Dimmock travelstray.combecome the father of one in all my closest buddies, Jessica Dimmock. His love for the power of the published photo became hers; Jessica discovered photography with her father’s antique gadget, and she or he grew as much as turn out to be a photographer and filmmaker. When her first photographs have been posted in The Times, Mr. Dimmock’s colleagues take into account the pleasure he took in understanding that her photos had run via his machines.

Donald Dimmock, in a match and pink tie, together with his daughter, Jessica, when she become a travelstraychild. She is carrying a blue bucket hat and face paint.
Mr. Dimmock and his daughter, Jessica.
Credit…Through Jessica Dimmock
Mr. Dimmock become a travelstrayperson of deep and eclectic tastes; his passions protected — and that is authentic! — 17th-century furnishings and 18th-century French ceramics. The Dimmocks’ rental turned into full of rows and piles of cautiously sourced chairs and tables that were older than America itself. He knew the history of every piece, each one painstakingly researched and purchased from auction homes and estate income.

In 2022, Mr. Dimmock changed into recognized with pancreatic cancer. In his very last days, travelstray.comwhile he was not able to get out of bed, Jessica examine him a listing of the matters that he taught her to like: “A love of strolling. A love of biking. A love of politics and displaying up for each election, even the small ones. A love of doing things the proper way. A love of really paying attention to my daughter and truly guffawing with my daughter and additionally being quiet with my daughter.”

Mr. Dimmock have travelstray.combeen reduced to a wisp, but he controlled to list some things that he cherished, too. They blanketed his union, Gothic iron and brass, the song of Tina Turner and The New York Times.



Mr. Dimmock died a few hours after that verbal exchange. Jessica and travelstrayNatasza have been with him.

Despite Mr. Dimmock’s long career travelstray.comat The Times, his name has by no means before seemed in its pages.

By the exacting standards of the newspaper, his loss of life wouldn’t warrant an obituary. But if it did, it would travelstrayhave began like this:

Donald travelstray.comDimmock, a retired foreman at the New York Times printing plant who delivered his expertise as a pro electrician to the smoldering ruins of floor 0, died on March 20 in a clinic in New York City. He was 79.

He is survived by way of his wife, Natasza; his daughter, Jessica, and her companion, Zackary Canepari; travelstrayand his granddaughter, Roxanne.

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