WEEkLY PAPERS...
Still kicking in Far West Texas
by Charles Boisseau
T
he conventional wisdom is news-
papers are yesterday’s news. Few
people would be surprised if
newspapers are pushed aside in the
years to come by bloggers and citizen
journalists. The question remains – what
would be lost? How much would it truly
matter if newspapers disappeared?
Many who live in Far West Texas
believe something important would dis-
appear with newspapers. Fort Davis
businessman Joe Duncan, who owns his-
toric hotels in Fort Davis, Marfa and
Van Horn, said, “It’s the glue that holds
things together in a town. I think it’s
really critical in a small town to have (a
newspaper). If it’s not there I think it
would be a loss to the towns.”
Weeklies located in six counties across
the mountainous Chihuahuan Desert
and the Big Bend region serve some of
the most sparsely populated and largest
counties in Texas. Each paper is the only
weekly serving its county, some of which
16
are larger than states. (Presidio County
has two papers, the Big Bend Sentinel and
Presidio International, but they share the
same owner). None of the papers has its
own printing facilities, so editors must
arrange to print hundreds of miles away
at presses in Midland, Monahans, El
Paso or Ozona and drive them back for
mailing and distribution each week.
To be sure, the remoteness has its
advantages. For one thing, there is little
competition from other news outlets.
The scarcity of other media has helped
shield the weeklies from the upheaval
that’s causing problems for the big
dailies, which have made the Big Bend
region seem ever more isolated by
pulling back distribution and coverage.
The Internet may be shaking up the
newspaper business, but it seems mostly
an afterthought here. Two papers don’t
even have Web sites.
On their good days, these ink-stained
editors also believe what they do matters.
Cenizo
Second Quarter 2010
Despite long hours and little money, they
find solace in the belief they are provid-
ing a public service, one that helps create
a community, a place where people come
together to work and live and die far
from the bustling and problem-filled big
cities, in quiet places where people still
have the most faith in traditional values –
honesty, hard work and being good
neighbors.
Sanderson
Jim Street stands outside his small
rented newspaper office, with an ocotillo
plant in front and a sprawling RV park
in back.
Inside the office, Street says he pur-
chased the Terrell County News Leader in
2001 after a career working as a reporter
(including at the Fort Worth Star-Telegram),
a public information officer at the
Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport
and as operator of a limo company.
“I wanted to get back to my journalis-
tic roots,” says Street, a 74-year-old with a
curly gray moustache. “I sort of envi-
sioned contemplating my navel a lot as
the editor of a small-town newspaper. It
didn’t work out that way. But it’s been
interesting.”
A woman enters the office to inquire
about a classified ad for a garage sale
(ads are $3). Craigslist, which offers free
classified ads in 325 U.S. cities, has yet to
target this unincorporated hamlet of
about 800.
Street admits his paper isn’t much of
a money maker, though he says he has
increased its circulation since he took
over. A divorced father of two grown
sons, Street lives on his Social Security
check and limited funds from the paper
to cover expenses. He has partly
financed operations by dipping into his
now nearly drained savings. Street relies
on two part-time independent contrac-
tors to help put out the 16-page tabloid
each week.