TRENTON — Tears welled in longtime journalist Michael Aron's eyes as he and colleague Jim Hooker said their goodbye on New Jersey Network's final evening newscast from Trenton.

The broadcast cut to a small room of empty cubicles. The lights turned off, and a small, blue NJN sign glowed on the back wall. The screen faded to black. "New Jersey Network. April 5, 1971 - June 30, 2011."

"Oh baby," Hooker said with a sigh, after the cameras turned off. "Tough one."

The beleaguered station signed off today from its headquarters on Stockton Street. As of Friday, 130 people are out of work. They packed up their desks and grabbed as many hugs as they could before leaving out the back door.

Now, the station becomes NJTV and New York-based WNET takes control after a prolonged push by Gov. Chris Christie to get the state out of the public broadcasting business. Christie also sold off NJN’s nine radio licenses.

Created in 1971, the station was the solution to bolstering news coverage in a state otherwise divided between the Philadelphia and New York markets. With little flash compared to network television, and a fraction of the audience, NJN nonetheless attracted loyal viewers from all corners.

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Hundreds of callers flooded the station during the past few weeks to express a mix of condolences and outrage. "I must tell you, I’m so heartbroken," one woman said in a voicemail. Others lamented the loss of Aron and Hooker, the respected roving reporter and the pun-prone anchorman.

"...Mr. NJN is standing by at the Statehouse with the latest," Hooker said during a newscast Monday, tossing to Aron.

"Thank you, other Mr. NJN," the tall, deep-voiced Aron said with a slight smile.

The tug-of-war over the station put its news crews in the peculiar position of covering their own calamity. But the fight was in some ways one-sided, because as journalists they could not hold rallies or lobby for their jobs. Their profession told them to stay the course, and stay away from opinion.

"We thought about reaching out into people’s living rooms and asking, ‘Please help us,’" said Aron, 65, a veteran political correspondent and 29-year employee. "In some subtle ways, we did. We reminded people how long we’ve been on the air, and that we would soon be gone. But that was about as far as we were willing to go."

There were other hints of displeasure: About a week ago, crews working in the trucks once parked outside the Statehouse turned the magnetic NJN signs upside down. And for the first time in 20 years, Aron said, the station decided not to air the Senate and Assembly budget vote live. The cameramen could not bear to watch anymore, he said.

Even Aron, the dean of the Statehouse press corps, skipped the budget wrangling Wednesday but for a brief stop in the Senate chambers. Fellow reporters dutifully took notes in the back of the room; Aron shook hands with a few lawmakers and staffers, then left without looking back.

"I wish I could have stayed," he said.

Back in the studio, Hooker, 55, wrapped up his Wednesday newscast and returned to his desk after most people had left for the day. He took a call from David, a developmentally disabled man he befriended about a year ago and recently met at a Special Olympics event.

"Are you aware you won’t be seeing your friend anymore after Thursday night?" Hooker said into his cell phone, promising to keep in touch. "What is it you say? We accept... We take it in stride and we move on."

The death knell that rang inside NJN for months took its toll.

"It’s been like a funeral around here," said Mike Curtis, 51, executive producer of NJN news and a 17-year employee.

When Aron laid his signature show, Reporters Roundtable, to rest last week, he ended with a line that he started using five years ago: "In any event, if you’re a reporter, New Jersey never lets you down."

"Part of it was a very subtle, maybe too subtle, way of saying I have loved what I do and they’re taking it away from me," he said. "There was probably a tinge of self-pity in the statement. Maybe that was overdoing it. I don’t know."