Getting to the heart of the story

I have a long list of stories which I/we/the newspaper only make a dent in. In the past month, two folks who I intended to write about passed away. This isn’t the first time someone whom I wanted to interview has died, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

It serves as another reminder why I try so hard, why I let myself feel pressure to get to the story before it’s too late. Because people just never know.

Last year, while doing “Looking Back,” it was observed that Bohlen Plumbing and Heating was celebrating either 50 or 75 years in business. I contacted James and Rick and wanted to sit down to write an article about their history. They politely declined (a couple times). Their father, Merlyn, passed away in December (He was one of my lost opportunities.)

When I write a feature story, I really want it to be good enough that folks could read it at the individual's funeral. It’s why I work so hard,  why most of my feature story interviews take an hour or longer. It’s why I sometimes spend three hours with a family: I want to truly capture that person’s essence, spirit – their story.

I struggle assigning feature stories to people for that reason. Outside of three people, which is honestly an incredible amount, I don’t trust folks to work that hard on a story. Those exceptions are Melanie Piltingsrud, Deb Bently, and of course, my favorite writer, my father.

For Pete’s sake, Melanie doesn’t even put down some of her hours on a story if she feels she put in “personal time.” People like this are special.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention our other writers. Because, thinking about it now, I recall a number of heartfelt stories written by contributors, residents, really a lot of folks. 

Tristan is becoming quite the writer herself. And then there’s Michael, who writes so much for all of the papers in Waseca County, it almost makes my head spin. Finally, there’s my sister, who I wish would simply write more. Oh, and our columnists. How I enjoy their work. Okay, so maybe I trust a few more than three people.  

When a newspaper doesn’t have a local connection with people, places, and events, it’s really, really hard to write stories like I just described. When a newspaper becomes a “ghost newspaper,” or goes away entirely, part of a community dies. (Ghost newspaper is a new term coined to describe a bare bones newsroom.)

I was conversing with Dave Zika on Monday. Boy is he a hoot. Anyhow, he asked about my education. He was really surprised that my education, my journalism experience, came almost entirely from my father. Yes, I attended college for one year after high school, but none of that was journalism. 

He said, “You know people go to school to learn what you do.” 

Yes they do. But honestly, given my experience with college-trained journalists, I’ll take Dave and his “amateaur writing.” 

Why? Because he’s writing a story he wants to write, about a place he’s familiar with, about people he’s known for a long, long time. It doesn’t matter how “professional” it is, because the details are there. His heart is all-in. What I’m trying to say is, we look for a heart first, and writing skills second. 

Is that professional? Probably not, but it’s how we operate. 

After all, my dad always drilled it in my head that a newspaper is supposed to be written at an eighth-grade reading level.

I think my point is this: the newspaper, at least my goal for it, is for it to not only be about the community, but written by people active in their community.

“Don’t put off till tomorrow what can be done today,” - unknown.