By Darren Johnson
Journal & Press
Yesterday, I was followed around by documentarian Jonathan Slade, who is taking a sabbatical from his college job to make a film about old newspapers and the people who somehow manage to keep them going in this digital age.
I also have a college job, and that’s one of the ways us newspaper people can afford to be able to make newspapers — not only for the medical benefits and added pay, but teaching in the field forces one to keep up with the times, just to stay ahead of the students.
Slade started the day visiting my student newspaper practicum at MCLA, and then the radio practicum I teach — yeah, I’ve had to learn how to run a radio station, too — and then we looked at old copies of The Journal & Press in the Greenwich Free Library’s Gill Room.
Heard a stat that old papers like The Journal & Press are going out of business at a rate of about two and a half per week nationally. Then I heard another stat that colleges are going out of business at a rate of about one per week.
So that’s my dumb luck — the only two ways I know how to make a living are vanishing.
But having spent my adult life at newspapers and colleges (and often both at the same time), I’ve noticed that the newspapers and colleges that do go out of business have inflexible, perhaps even smug leadership, while at the same time are pretty lousy at marketing themselves to their potential customers.
That was the case at The College of Saint Rose, where I’d also spent some time. They are closing shop permanently by the end of June. While I was there, it was painful watching the leadership train wreck, as if it were happening in slow motion.
The problem with college management structures is they are too hierarchal. College presidents are treated like royalty — they wear robes, have convocations — and as long as the college’s board of directors like that person, they can reign over a college with impunity. Few are corrupt, but lots of them are inept. And they fill their cabinets full of “yes” people. So their administrations, to everyone else, look like folly, but they don’t see it because they are insulated in their ivory towers, surrounded by kiss ups.
Maybe newspapers should have been more critical of places like The College of Saint Rose, while there still was a chance to maybe find someone competent to lead the place.
But newspapers are depleted as well. Even the once mighty New York Metro newspapers couldn’t vet crazy Rep. George Santos; what would have been a fairly simple task when these newspapers were, well, better.
Fun With the Archives
It’s nice to visit the Greenwich Free Library’s Gill Room, which really chronicles our local history well. Curated by Sandy McReynolds, they have practically the whole 182-year history of The Journal & Press there.
I showed Slade the bound copies of the paper. He found it interesting that The Salem Press was its own unique entity until about 1970, and then was combined to form The Journal & Press.
(I’d bet the community of Salem could support an exclusive Salem Press banner again. Last month, I’d met with some leaders there, and they seem to have a lot of energy and a positive spirit. We could swap plates at the printing plant and give Salem a unique cover and unique pages, if the will is there.)
I curate a two-page spread called “Through the Decades” for the newspaper, where I find tidbits from our past editions that portray life on this date 10 years ago, 40 years ago, 120 years ago, etc.
Here’s one I picked for the “Early May” issue of The Journal & Press, which will hit later this week (we usually get it in local mailboxes by the first Saturday of each month, in case you’re waiting):
100 Years Ago
May 7, 1924
Darwin Townsend met with a painful accident Friday while on his way to Cambridge. As he was driving down the Catholic cemetery hill, a bit broke in one of the horse’s mouths and the team started to run away. Mr. Townsend was thrown out but hung to the reins. He was dragged quite a distance before the team broke away and ran to the upper end of the village where they were caught and put in a stable.
Mr. Townsend was picked up in a semi-conscious condition and rushed to the Mary McClellan Hospital where it was found he had a badly sprained arm and was considered bruised but able to return home. The wagon was not damaged and the horses escaped injury.
Then I also pulled this ad out of the same paper:
So why pick that blurb and that ad? I find the crossover period when horse-drawn vehicles transitioned to cars interesting. Trolleys also were a thing. So many accidents happened during that time, as modern rules of the road were yet to be written. Add in some nostalgia that we actually had a real hospital in our county.
Looking back at old issues of the paper, the Mary McClellan name comes up a lot. It was such an important institution here. And then it was gone.
(Well, what’s physically left is dangerously decaying, and the Cambridge-Greenwich Police said in a recent Facebook post that they will arrest trespassers.)
Institutions — including once proud colleges and once prominent newspapers — can disappear in what seems like a blink of the eye.
But when they’re gone, they’re gone. Forever. Fade to black.
Hopefully people like Slade can make things like documentaries about these historic newspapers — and keep the spotlight on us so the public doesn’t forget us, too.
Speaking of the Next Issue…
It’s going to have a lot in it. I have a headache trying to get everything in. It’s looking like it’s going to be 48 pages. If you really want to be in it at this point, consider buying a very affordable ad.
We’re different than other area papers because we have a wide array of writing in our pages. By writing, I’m talking about different people putting care into the rhythm of their sentences, word choices, and trying to convey something meaningful and helpful for our fellow residents.
The Journal & Press isn’t a bunch of copy-and-pasted press releases, but instead fosters individual voices. It’s a deeper, more intimate experience than, say, the free shopper papers that come in the mail.
One new feature we’re introducing is a column called “Ride Along” where accomplished writer Adam Harrison Levy (pictured above) travels with local workers in their work vehicles.
He starts with Salem’s Lenny Keys (pictured below), who runs a local carting business.
Here’s an excerpt:
Adam: How much of your life do you spend driving?
Lenny: I’d say 75 to 85 percent of the time. If I’m not sleeping I’m in a truck heading somewhere. With so many hours on your own it makes you more calm. You find a peaceful feeling. My life is always peaceful because I’ve tried to keep it that way. Because there is no reason for animosity or anger. If you don’t want to be happy then stay away from me because I want to be happy in everything I do. In the early years you get mad and upset with somebody and it doesn’t do any good. It only lasts for four and half seconds! There is no different outcome because then somebody ends up being upset. That was in those early years, I guess, before you learn control. When I was in the garbage business and people didn’t pay because they needed groceries I would just leave the cans and if they saw me at Stewart’s they’d give me some money.
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