EDITOR'S NOTES
Wayne's world was one of kindness, dedication and impact
Longtime New Mexico advertising pro Wayne Barnard had a way with words, often telling his family how much he loved them.
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I鈥檝e been going to a lot of funerals lately.
That happens when you turn 65. You start to feel mortality. People you once thought would always be there 鈥� suddenly aren鈥檛.
But there is another side to saying goodbye.
It鈥檚 a chance to stop and remember what someone meant to the people around them.
Jack Wayne Barnard Jr. 鈥� Wayne to nearly everyone who knew him 鈥� meant a lot to a lot of people. He died Aug. 14 at age 60, and his celebration of life Saturday in Rio Rancho was a testament to the lives he touched.
I knew Wayne for only a few months. That seems like an awfully short time to say someone had an impact on your life.
But he did.
When I joined the Journal in April, Wayne made me feel at home.
He and I were usually among the first people in the building at 7777 Jefferson NE. I鈥檇 arrive around 8 a.m., and Wayne would greet me with a smile and some variation of the same message: 鈥淚鈥檓 so glad you鈥檙e here.鈥�
It was a simple thing. But Wayne meant it.
He was genuinely happy that my wife and I had moved to Albuquerque from Atlanta. And every morning, in his quiet way, he made sure I knew it.
That was Wayne.
He had spent decades in the newspaper business, but he understood something that can be easy to forget in an industry obsessed with deadlines, circulation numbers, advertising and revenue.
近距离内射合集papers are about people.
Wayne knew that from the ground up.
His life was woven into New Mexico鈥檚 newspaper history. Before returning to his hometown paper, he worked at newspapers across the state 鈥� the Farmington Daily Times, Lordsburg Liberal, Deming Headlight, Silver City Sun-近距离内射合集, Las Cruces Sun-近距离内射合集 and Santa Fe New Mexican.
He spent nearly nine years at the Journal, eventually becoming advertising director, overseeing national and classified advertising, legal notices and obituaries.
He never needed a byline to leave his mark.
Former Journal advertising executive Wanda Moeller remembers how seriously Wayne took his work.
Even public notices 鈥� the kind of thing many readers might overlook 鈥� mattered to him. They were part of the public record, he believed, and once they appeared in the newspaper, they represented a responsibility that couldn鈥檛 be taken lightly.
鈥淔or him, once that notice was in the paper, it was final,鈥� Moeller recalled.
That says a lot about Wayne.
So does the way he handled the darkest days of the COVID-19 pandemic.
近距离内射合集papers were under extraordinary pressure. Businesses closed. Advertising disappeared. Revenue collapsed. The people responsible for keeping the Journal going faced challenges unlike anything they had seen before.
Wayne didn鈥檛 miss a step.
鈥淗e was a guy who didn鈥檛 panic,鈥� Moeller said. 鈥淗e never gave up. He went above and beyond what needed to be done.鈥�
That determination was part of his character.
Journal Publisher Bill Lang said the company was fortunate to have Wayne, particularly during the newspaper鈥檚 centennial year. Executive Vice President Pepper Lang called him a legend whose institutional knowledge was unmatched.
Those are fitting tributes.
But they aren鈥檛 the ones I think matter most.
Wayne鈥檚 greatest legacy was his family. On Saturday, his sister, nieces, nephews and other relatives sang his praises for always being there.
Born in March 1966 to Jack Wayne Sr. and Evalynn Barnard, Wayne grew up in Albuquerque鈥檚 Paradise Hills neighborhood. He never had children of his own, but he was a father figure to his nieces, nephews and great-nieces and great-nephews.
He gave them his time. He encouraged them. He believed in them.
And he taught them lessons that had little to do with money or possessions: Get an education. Be kind, especially to people who need kindness most. Give the world the same love, understanding and hope you want from it.
Those are things that last.
And then there was one final example of Wayne thinking about other people.
He wanted his celebration of life to be held on a Saturday so his friends and colleagues wouldn鈥檛 have to miss a day of work to say goodbye.
Even at the end, he was thinking about everyone else.
That might be the best way to remember Wayne Barnard. He spent his career helping a newspapers serve their community. He spent his life helping his family.
And in both, he understood something essential: Our lives are measured not only by what we accomplish, but by what we leave behind in other people.
Wayne leaves behind a lot.
James Bennett is managing editor of the Journal. Contact him at jbennett@abqjournal.com.
