Three years ago, I got a Monday-afternoon phone call.
Little did I know that 1,095 days ago my first crack at retirement—about 65 days—was over.
Calling was my friend of a half-century, Ralph Maxwell, editor and publisher of The Oglethorpe Echo. “Dink,” he said, “I want to let you know that I am closing The Echo on Oct. 1.”
The conversation lasted maybe three minutes. Hanging up, I told myself, “The community needs The Echo. Go see Ralph on Friday.” I understood and respected his reasons, but I didn’t sleep well that night.
Tuesday morning, I headed toward Lexington. I didn’t have a prepared “speech.” And when I walked into his office, he was writing the front-page story for the next day’s edition, announcing the decision to close the 147-year-old newspaper.
“Ralph,” I said, “let’s talk. You can’t close the newspaper.”
“Why?”
“Your folks are watching in heaven, and the community needs this newspaper. I understand your situation. But please, don’t close The Echo.”
“Well, what are you going to do, buy it?”
“No, Ralph. If I had kept every newspaper that I’ve ever been involved in, it’d be about 60. Personally, I don’t need to buy another. Besides, I am supposed to be retired.”
“Well, what are you proposing?”
I didn’t have an answer, but I looked at the ceiling for a few seconds and replied, “We are going to form a nonprofit to own The Echo. I will run it, and I’ll be the first donor.” Relying on friendship and trust built over 50 years, Ralph said, “OK, but what’s next?”
“Please delay that story you are writing,” I said. “Give me until Nov. 1. The devil is in the details, but I’ll go to work on it right now.”
The conversation didn’t take 10 minutes. We shook hands. And as soon as I climbed into my truck, I punched a button in the middle of the steering wheel and said, “Call Charles Davis.” Charles is the dean of my alma mater, UGA’s Henry W. Grady College of Journalism and Mass Communication.
On the second ring, I heard my friend say, “Hey, Dink. Whatcha got?”
“Charles, I have an idea, and I need your help. We are forming a nonprofit to own The Oglethorpe Echo in Lexington. It’s about 15 miles from the campus, and I want the newspaper to be a real-life learning laboratory for your students. I’ll run it and be a financial contributor. Whatcha think?”
I hadn’t left Lexington’s city limits before Charles said, “I like it.”
Indeed, the devil was in the details. But within the week, we had an action-plan outline. Journalism professors Dr. Amanda Bright and Andy Johnston signed on to shepherd the students. And since November 2021, 150 Grady students have worked at the newspaper, putting gold stars on their diplomas.
Now, about 1,095 days later—rather than being featured in an obituary—the community’s newspaper will soon celebrate its 151st birthday. The only way this idea succeeded is that so many people—especially readers, advertisers and donors—helped. Barbara Cabaniss, wife of Bill—one of my 1966 UGA roommates—organized a team of volunteers.
I believe a newspaper—through its institutional knowledge and commitment to serve—is the conscience and soul of the community. The heartbeat, if you will. A newspaper is the glue that helps hold a community together.
For three years, I have been the “kid” with the bicycle pump keeping air in The Echo’s tires. Today, business manager Tricia Bearden, a UGA grad, is taking the lead and doing just fine.
Now, I wonder how long my second retirement will last.
dnesmith@cninewspapers.com
