Today marked the first time in roughly a decade I held a print copy of a newspaper in my hands. It was a copy of “The Courier”, a staple in my home community of Charlotte County for a century. The newspaper had faded into the abyss as the rise of the digital age began casting a large shadow over the industry, and online news sources became available paramount. I was raised by a news loving father, and sat at a breakfast table across from his heavy set brow perched precariously over the front page of an opened newspaper, the long pages acting as a barrier protecting his orange juice and bowl of yogurt parfait.
Holding the paper in my hand today, at my own kitchen table with my cup of coffee, I couldn’t help but feel nostalgic. If I’m being honest, the content wasn’t particularly interesting to me. That isn’t saying the material wasn’t engaging, I just am not that involved in local news. I know what I know, and I don’t know what I don’t, and that’s fine. Regardless of my level of interest, I continued thumbing through the pages. My interests were particularly drawn to the names of the reporters and journalists lending their time to this revived paper, and to pictures of people I know, and advertisements of friends and family’s small businesses. The thinness of the paper held between my thumbs and middle fingers felt familiar, the black and white text spoke to me from the past, and memories of my father flooded back.
This paper will be printed once a month, for free, and I plan to have every copy, as long as it lasts. These will go on a shelf, and eventually in a box, placed in my attic until a time I am no longer around to claim ownership. It is at that time that my children will be responsible for what to do with them. Perhaps they’ll be used to light a fire on a camping trip with children of their own, perhaps they’ll be read and cherished as a memory of their own father, or maybe they’ll make their way swiftly to Hemlock Knoll (trash, for you out of towners). Either way, they will have another fleeting second of being held in someone’s fingers, and that is enough.
I, for one, open the digital age with open arms. I use AI almost daily, I love technology, and I like having a super computer in my pocket that can automate much of my life. It’s truly amazing to be able to live in this near-simulation world and see what humans are capable of designing, and what machines are capable of creating. I am not one who thinks we need to freeze in time, forever. It is nice, however, to be able to freeze for a moment and reflect. I recommend everybody finds something in their life capable of bringing them to the past, even for a passing moment. This post isn’t really about a newspaper, it’s about a feeling and a memory. I read books regularly, I flip through printed reports and technical drawings for a living, but no printed word has struck me lately like the return of The Courier, so thanks CHCO, for the chance to inspire a few paragraphs.