My plan was to withdraw quietly from the scene and take care of the long list of things that are in front of me.
But Sandy Hanson, bless her, made that harder than I’d hoped.
I’ve been with these newspapers since late 1998.
By my estimate, I’ve written more than three million words over that time span for the Solon Economist and North Liberty Leader, and these will be some of the last.
When Lori and I arrived in North Liberty, we had just uprooted ourselves from Vinton, which we thought was going to be home. We loved Vinton, had wonderful friends and a beautiful Queen Anne Victorian on a street lined with mature trees. Both our children were born while we lived there and our daughter Kearce began school there.
I was a young publisher then, in charge of a weekday daily with a print shop and a web press, some 20 employees.
After a death in ownership, my newspaper was sold, and the new owners informed me three days before the closing that I was out of a job.
Soon, many of my former employees found themselves in the same spot.
It was Brian Fleck who gave me new life.
We printed the Economist and Leader in Vinton, and I knew Brian as a customer.
After a brief stint as a copy editor at the Gazette, for which I am forever thankful, I realized I would rather be my own boss. I knew how to do everything at a newspaper, and I was pretty sure I could do it better than most.
Always bet on yourself.
I sought out Brian, who by that time was a well-seasoned veteran of the community, and we reached an agreement. I would be his workhorse, and when he was ready to sell, I would be first in line.
Initially, Lori and I landed in North Liberty, but after a few years Brian gave up his downtown second-story apartment across from the bandstand and we switched towns.
It wasn’t long after that Brian was ready to hang it up, and he gave me a really sweet deal. Thanking him publicly is one of the only reasons I am writing this. Brian and Sabra are beautiful, dear people who have provided us with countless hours of happy company. Grazie mille.
Solon became our new hometown.
We found people we already knew here (it’s a small world) and made many other fast friends.
Our children grew up chasing their friends around in our big backyard on Dubuque Street. With the summer kitchen, outdoor fire pit and trampoline, it was common to find a host of kids camped out in one place or the other.
I’m thankful my children had the chance to be here when they did– truly some unique years for this community– sitting on the grass behind the home end zone, enjoying four football championships in a row. Living on the parade route for Beef Days.
Countless other memories.
It seems hard to believe, but just 10 years ago you could have shot a gun off downtown at 10:30 p.m. and no one would’ve been there to hear it.
Time passes.
Things change.
Although I’ve spent the majority of my adult life in the Cedar Rapids and Iowa City area, I grew up on a farm outside of Keokuk.
My mom was a teacher, my dad operated a service station and was a farmer. My brother and I spent our fair share of time baling hay and we both developed strong work ethics.
By sixth grade, I was working at dad’s station along the highway outside of town, fixing flats and pumping gas. The smell of engine grease is permanently coded in my brain to this day.
Work hard, think soundly, influence unselfishly and live honorably.
I love those words.
They are the criteria for the Iowa Newspaper Association’s Master Editor-Publisher Award, but I’ve adopted them as my credo.
I’ve worked hard. I’ve been fair.
Even when we owned the newspapers, we thought of ourselves as stewards, carrying on the tradition of small-town journalism– reflecting the community through its joys and sorrows.
Many others came before us.
More will follow.
We don’t do these things for recognition. We do it because it’s important to have an unbiased eye watching things on your behalf. Whether the source is a newspaper you hold in your hand or an article you read on your phone, the accuracy of the information you digest relies on journalists.
You have trusted me. Hopefully I earned that trust.
It has been a privilege to serve you.
I will see you down the road.