Almost four years ago, I handed in my resignation at the Albuquerque Tribune. I'd been there for almost three years, but was still a part-time employee. For the last year I was there, I worked up to about 36 hours a week, got no benefits and was not guaranteed anything (even hours) other than always having to get to work between 5 and 6 in the morning.

After the first deadline, I had my short resignation letter in my hand and asked to talk to my manager, Dave Carrillo, in one of the small conference rooms. He thought (and said this out loud as we walked to the room) I was going to accept the sports agate job. Y'know those scoreboard pages with the incredibly small type in the sports section? I'd be getting to work between 4 and 5 in the morning to put those together. I actually got paid about a buck more than what most new sports agate people got, and he thought it was very nice of the Trib to pay my regular (less than $10 an hour) hourly rate to do a lesser job.

I was kind of insulted, and it was the last straw. Carrillo realized this when he read my short letter. He also laughed at the joke line I put in: Any overtime, vacation, sick pay or benefits should be added to my last pay check. I had none of these extras, and there was no "bonus" added to my last check.

I last saw Dave Carrillo during the week after Labor Day in 1999. I stayed on through the week after that holiday because it meant three of my last four days of work were half days, but I'd get paid for more hours because of the holiday. During the three weeks after I gave notice, Carrillo and I didn't say much to each other. And, when they found out, most of the people in the newsroom who knew me knew why I was leaving.

Dave Carrillo died late last week about a week after suffering a heart attack while coaching girls soccer at Rio Grande High School. He was 41. He was still at the Tribune in the same job. Coaching girls soccer is a mostly volunteer endeavor, and before I left, he had just started coaching his daughter's AYSO soccer team. I remember this mostly because he realized how out of shape he was while doing this. Sitting in front of a computer screen for 8 to 10 hours a day is not the way to keep your body in shape.

When I heard he'd had a heart attack (I still get the Tribune), I wasn't sure how to feel. Obviously I didn't want Carrillo to die. This was never my wish. I just wanted to be taken seriously by the Tribune, and since Carrillo was my boss, I was looking for his approval. Or his support. We rarely saw eye to eye about my job. Much of the time, he seemed to feel I was lucky to be employed.

I, and almost everyone else I worked with, knew I was the fastest page designer in the newsroom. If you asked me, however, I always said Googe was the fastest. But I was being nice, and Googe knew this as well. Googe is in his late 30s, watches too much TV, drinks too much and doesn't really like people. Except the ones he sees all the time at work. Googe (or Stick or Charles) was my best "friend" at the Trib, even though we never socialized together outside of the newsroom. He was also good friends with Carrillo. In a way, he was the glue between my boss and I. And now he's the only one of us left.

I feel sorry for Carrillo's family and the Tribune. He worked hard for both, gave his life for both. The extremes of working from 4 in the morning to noon, then taking a nap, then attending to family and other business in the late afternoon and early evening messes up your head and body. After being gone from the Trib for a few years, I talked to the woman who had become the top editor. We were at a party for mutual friends. She said they never found anyone to replace my speed (deadlines necessitate having the kind of speed at a keyboard and mouse I developed over the years), and I told her I was rarely completely awake when I worked there. Maybe 75% on some days, but mostly I was between 50 and 70%. The hours were a killer.

And this is what I go back to when I think of Carrillo. I wonder if doubling up days (my term for working, taking a long nap, getting up and having another day of activity in the space of 24 hours), sitting at a computer for at least 8 hours a day, then trying to be athletic might have had a large part in Carrillo's heart attack. He was just worn out. Trying to do everything he could for his job and his family made his time here that much shorter. Maybe half as short as it should have been.

Lots of people die relatively young. I joke about it all the time. I could list all the rock stars who burned out in their 20s. Or the ones who made it farther, only to die while rocking out on stage due to a heart attack. I always consider these people to be dying while doing what they love best. Carrillo was out in the hot sun, coaching the girls. It was one of the things he loved to do, but probably not the way he wanted to go out.

I hold no grudge against Carrillo. In a way, he made me realize I had to leave the Trib--if in a very indirect way. Job-wise, I am in a much better position than I ever was when I worked for him. I think I come down to this: don't let your work kill you. We all have to make a living. We all have to make a way in this world. Carrillo's way cut his life in half. I don't think he saw that one coming.

Matt Worley is no longer the fastest page designer at the Trib. And he never will be again.