People care enough to say something

Hanging on the wall in my office are numerous pictures, sayings and mementos. Among them is a copy of the first newspaper my dad published after he purchased the New Richland Star in 2005. I feel very lucky to have it, since the only copy I’ve ever found happened to be squirreled away in my dad’s basement; I came across it by chance. On the front page is a black-and-white picture of my dad shaking hands with previous publisher Lavonne Meyer in front of the Star office in New Richland. The sun was shining in their faces and they both look grumpy as they squint their eyes. 

Immediately to the left of that front page story is an article titled. “My first column at last.” 

My dad starts his story talking about how difficult it was to write this first column. 

How does one show the world he’s crazy? 

By purchasing a newspaper of course. 

I’ve read both articles many times. 

In the feature story announcing the change in ownership, the headline reads “The Star is sold.” 

I used that same headline when I purchased the Star Eagle from my dad four years ago. 

Many lines stick with me from those two pieces. 

“The Star remains the best choice for local advertising and news.” 

And. 

“I wrote and rewrote this column a dozen times.” 

My goal when we started the Waseca County Pioneer was and remains, producing a quality newspaper of value to our local community. 

I really do love people. 

I want to hear your story. 

I enjoy when you stop in the office and chat. 

And it hurts when I make mistakes. 

But people care enough to say something, and that matters.

My dad always said it was a good thing if our coaches in sports growing up were pointing out our mistakes. It meant they were paying attention to what we were doing, he said. 

It meant they hadn’t given up on me or deemed my performance irrelevant. 

The newspaper I found in my dad’s basement that day remains a memento, framed on my office wall. 

I’ve been writing and rewriting this column in my mind for weeks. I find that to be more productive than using the delete key over and over again. 

My main message, I suppose, is fairly straightforward: I want this publication to be the best version of itself it can be. We’re not there yet. No one person ever truly gets there. It’s about the journey, about always striving to be better–which is what remains our goal, getting better every week, every month, every year. 

Over the past two years–three if you count the time spent considering, planning and preparing– we’ve gone through a roller coaster here at the paper. 

I remember finishing our first paper two years ago and thinking, “I get to do this every week now, forever... 

“What have I gotten myself into?”

I was exhausted but exuberant. 

Two years later, I've learned a lot. 

Here’s some of what’s happened in two years. My original co-publisher chose to return to working with his hometown newspaper. Numerous writers have come and gone.  There have been many, many typographical errors.

We’re still here. 

Every obstacle we’ve faced has made us stronger. 

This past year, Waseca County picked the Pioneer as its legal newspaper despite our paper not submitting the lowest bid. That was a strong statement of support. What we’re doing matters.

The city of Waseca and Waseca Public schools chose the Pioneer as their legal newspaper of record.

This past year Deb Bently has taken on a stronger role with the paper. She found us our new writer, Ben Revermann. 

The way people talk about Deb and her love for the community makes my heart sing. To know she’s a part of our paper, our community, makes me glad. 

To see my dad excited to write again makes me smile. 

The impact of these and many others who have been part of the Pioneer serve as a vital reminder of what makes Waseca County great: the people. 

To our readers, the ones who stop me on the street and the ones who don’t: thank you.

To our advertisers: thank you. You took a chance on me and our newspaper when we opened two years ago. You continue to support us today. 

Many people didn’t think we’d make it through our first year. 

But here we are. 

When my dad purchased the New Richland Star in 2005, people told him he was crazy. They told him taking out a mortgage on his house for the down payment would mean he would lose his home. 

Well, they were right about one thing. We certainly are crazy. 

As we look forward to the future, the newspaper hopes to grow with your help. In exchange, we will work to provide a tool which helps the community grow–more informed, more connected, more grateful for the many stories, experiences and achievements we share. 

Please let us be part of all the ways you grow your future.  

In the meantime, Thank you.