My Turn: Reflecting on 23 Years

Friday, March 27 marks 23 years since Sue and I took the leap and purchased The Media, The Edina Sentinel, and the LaBelle Star.

Which begs the question: how exactly did we get here… and why didn’t anyone stop us?

My newspaper career started back in 1986 with the Omaha World-Herald, where I managed newspaper carriers across northeast Nebraska. Back then, carriers were “little merchants.” Customers paid the carrier, the carrier paid the paper, and I made sure nobody disappeared with the money.

It was part accounting, part babysitting, and part detective work. If a carrier quit, we audited their little collection book like it was a federal investigation.

After a couple years, I burned out and briefly sold copy machines—which was fine until I discovered my manager’s business model involved selling new machines and delivering used ones. Turns out those “creative sales strategies” aren’t my thing.

So I went back to newspapers—because clearly, I learn slowly.

Over the next several years, we bounced from Sioux City, Iowa, to Kokomo, Indiana, where I held titles like “Alternate Delivery Manager,” which is a fancy way of saying, “whatever needed delivered, we delivered it.” Newspapers, magazines, perfume samples, canned soda… if it could be dropped on a porch, we probably did it.

I eventually became Distribution Director, overseeing the daily newspaper delivery and all the other stuff, right up until a management shakeup where my boss took my job and offered me a new one… at half the salary.

I declined. We landed in Fremont, Nebraska, which was a great place to live and work. At the Fremont Tribune, we grew circulation, won awards, bought the local shopper, and even took on customer service responsibilities for other company newspapers.

For whatever reason, I was pretty good at circulation. Everywhere we went, sales went up, complaints went down, and things ran smoothly. Which sounds great—until you realize that smooth operations don’t always equal exciting days.

Translation: I got bored.

By mid 2001, I was working in Council Bluffs, Iowa, commuting from Fremont, and chasing the idea of becoming a publisher. It was discussed, hinted at, and almost promised, and yet always just out of reach—like a carrot on a stick, except the carrot never actually showed up.

A year later—same story. Numbers up. Complaints down. Smooth operation. Me… bored again.

Sue and I had talked for years about buying a newspaper, but finding the right opportunity isn’t like picking one off a shelf. In September 2002, our broker told us Hazel Smith might be ready to sell. We made a quiet trip to Kahoka, and the wheels started turning.

At the same time, I tried once more to move up within the company. I was told I’d be interviewed for a publisher position at one of the small papers in the group.

I wasn’t.

So I called a headhunter. The next day, I was called into my publisher’s office and informed— very helpfully—that I would be announcing my departure at the company Christmas party.

Apparently “confidential” has a different meaning in some circles.

My last day was December 31.

Just after midnight, as the calendar flipped to January 1, my father passed away unexpectedly in Florida. So to recap: unemployed, grieving, and trying to help my mom navigate everything.

Not exactly the business plan I had in mind.

In February, I interviewed for a job in Connecticut. I was offered the position… but the pay wouldn’t actually cover the cost of living there. So we passed.

Meanwhile, the purchase of the newspapers in Kahoka kept inching forward. With the help of David Alderton, Sr. at Peoples Bank, State Central Bank in Keokuk, and a confidential appraisal from Kent Martin, we somehow pulled it all together.

After a few last-minute insurance headaches (because of course there were), we closed the deal on March 27, 2003. A Thursday.

We drove back to Nebraska… packed up… and by Monday morning, I was back in Kahoka as a newspaper owner. Sue and the kids would finish the school year in Fremont.

Monday, I was immediately thrown into chaos.

There was a TV crew in the office because Hazel was retiring. Pages were still being pasted up by hand, photographed with a giant camera, turned into negatives, touched up, and then Bob Smith and I drove those negatives to Fort Madison to have plates made and papers printed.

We dropped papers in Edina and LaBelle on the way back, returned to Kahoka, ready to call it a day after about 14 hours straight.

Simple, right?

As I was leaving the office, my Nebraska plates and unfamiliar car caught the attention of a Kahoka police officer, which felt like a fitting welcome to town.

And I still had an hour and a half drive to Sue’s parents’ farm near Ainsworth, Iowa, where I would stay for a while.

Sigh.

Fast forward 23 years and more than 1,200 editions later, everything about the newspaper business has changed. The tools are different. The deadlines feel faster. The challenges are… well, still there.

But we’re still here.

Still printing. Still telling stories.

And somehow, against all odds—and probably a little common sense—we’re still going strong, and we’ve certainly grown to seven newspapers and websites, social media, and we’re working on new projects all the time.

Thanks for being part of the story. Stick around—we’re not done yet.