I spent many hours of my childhood running around that place, mostly going up to visit Dad when I was downtown for whatever reason. I can still remember the feeling of being in the elevator, using the pneumatic tube system, the feel of sitting in Dad’s wooden Washington and Lee chair, the row of photographs of industrial plant personnel in his back hallway, the noises made by the second floor teletype machines that were still there in the 1970s, the way some of the floors sloped slightly and that old, nasty cafeteria room with the old-fashioned vending machines. It was kind of an ugly building, to be honest. The rapid-fire changing of the times that came with the newspaper combining operations, the newsroom moving, and the presses shutting down has a fourth and final event now, with a period right after.
Also, “razed” is a really cool word.