Read this before it hits your fireplace

"Thank you for helping keep this institution alive at a time when so many hometown papers have vanished. We may be a small team, but we take our mission seriously. And we can do this work only because you choose to support it."”

As we head into Thanksgiving, I’ve been thinking about what I’m grateful for—and the first thing that comes to mind is the people who’ve stood with us. Our long-time clients. The ones who don’t just buy ads, but who genuinely understand what we do and why it matters.

They’re not chasing quick hits or one-off splashes. They see the bigger picture. They know local marketing is a marathon, not a sprint, and that steady visibility in a trusted publication pays dividends over time. More than that, they recognize the PR value of aligning with a paper—and a website with more than 100,000 monthly pageviews—that thousands of readers rely on twice a month. When they support us, they’re supporting something larger than an ad schedule. They’re investing in a publication that cares deeply about its community.

And while I’m highlighting our long-time clients here, I want to be clear that we’re grateful for every advertiser who chooses to work with us—whether you’ve been with us for years or just recently came aboard. Our hope is always that, over time, those relationships deepen. That you get to see what this platform can do, not just for your business but for the community we serve together.

And I also want to thank our readers—many of whom voluntarily contribute money to us or simply reach out with a kind word when a story resonates. You’re the reason we exist in the first place, and you remind us, week after week, that what we do matters.

And every now and then, I’m reminded just how closely people are paying attention. Not long ago, I got a note from a reader who has—let’s put it kindly—a long history of disagreeing with my Publisher’s Memos. He’s sent me plenty of spirited critiques over the years, and I always write back, because I genuinely enjoy the back-and-forth. It’s a quirk of mine; I like engaging with people who challenge me.

But this time, he emailed to praise a column. I had to double-check to make sure it was really from him. And I found myself grateful for that exchange—not because he agreed with me for once, but because he cared enough to stay engaged. That kind of give-and-take is part of the lifeblood of local journalism, and it’s not something you get from the publisher of a regional or national daily.

The same thing happens on the phone. People are genuinely shocked when I answer. Every so often someone calls ready to yell at me—you can practically hear the disappointment when they realize they didn’t reach voicemail. But once we start talking, nine times out of ten, it turns into a thoughtful, even friendly conversation. That kind of human connection is rare these days, and it’s one of the reasons I love doing this work.

We’re not here to churn out content just to fill space. We’re here to serve the people we live next to, shop with, cheer for and sometimes grieve with. We’ve helped at least a couple of readers find kidney donors. We’ve promoted GoFundMe campaigns within hours when someone in town faced a crisis. We celebrate our student athletes, artists and performers. We mourn with families when we lose beloved neighbors. We honor lives lived. And we make sure voices in this town never go unheard.

And when the news isn’t warm and fuzzy, we’re still there. We cover local government and school districts. We break down budgets and taxes. We explain what’s happening when something goes wrong. We don’t run with gossip or amplify the social-media rumor mill. If something seems “missing,” it’s often because we’re still doing the work—verifying, calling, confirming. We correct mistakes when they happen. We aim, always, to be fair and balanced. It’s not glamorous work, but it’s essential.

So to our long-time clients: thank you. Thank you for recognizing the business value and the civic value of local journalism. Thank you for helping keep this institution alive at a time when so many hometown papers have vanished. We may be a small team, but we take our mission seriously. And we can do this work only because you choose to support it.

Now, we don’t take ourselves too seriously. Yes, we’re proud of our role in this community—but we’re also humble enough to admit that our paper gets around. You’ll find it on kitchen tables next to a cup of coffee, folded open beside a recliner, and yes—let’s be honest—sometimes read in the bathroom (we all do our best thinking there). Sure, we might eventually end up as kindling for a fireplace or lining a bird cage, but before that happens, we’re being read—really read—in homes all over town. And in a world where our phones buzz nonstop with noise, outrage and distraction, there’s something grounding about a printed page that simply sits there, waiting quietly for you to pick it up. It’s a medium that still matters. And that’s something we’re proud of.

So as we gather around our tables this Thanksgiving, I want to say thank you—to our clients, our readers, and the community we’re privileged to serve. We don’t take your trust lightly. Here’s to many more years of telling important stories, shining a light where it belongs, and showing up for this town week after week, either in print or online.

Wishing you a wonderful, meaningful Thanksgiving.