Flagpole turned 26 last week. It doesn’t really mean that much to celebrate 26 years as a local newspaper. We tend to attach significance to the “milestone” years: the 20th, the 25th, the 50th. The 26th? Not very sexy, but in some ways our 26th year may be our most significant of all. For one thing, we’ve done a lot of learning about how to survive in a bad economy. We have cut our operating costs pretty significantly without laying off any staff members or diluting the quality of Flagpole.
Of greater significance than the years is the fact that Flagpole is a local newspaper. Flagpole is owned by people who live in town, in Athens-Clarke County, and support the public schools, eat in local restaurants, buy groceries here and participate in the civic, cultural and charitable endeavors of our community. Flagpole as a business buys its supplies from local merchants and is printed by a local printer—Greater Georgia Printers, just down the road in Crawford. Flagpole, in fact, is owned by Alicia Nickles and me, and we work here at Flagpole every day. There is no outside corporate structure—not in Augusta, Atlanta or New York City—telling us what to do and taking whatever money we make, dispersing it to out-of-town stockholders. What you see is what you get, and if you don’t like it, you can call us up and tell us, or email us or text us or stop us on the street and tell us what you think about Flagpole—the same with everybody on the Flagpole staff, because you’ll run into us all over town.
These local connections are important to a newspaper. The effectiveness of local schools and government, the quality of local services, entertainment and food are of immediate importance to us and to our families. If there’s a pothole on Prince Avenue, we hit it, too. No matter how snarky we may be in our coverage, we’re family; we care. We love Athens, and we want the best for our hometown.
Of course, we all live on the Internet, too, and most aspects of our lives are determined by corporations and governments beyond our control. Does local-ness even matter anymore? Maybe not so much, as long as everything goes smoothly. But if you can’t get through to buy insurance, if your new shoes don’t fit, if there’s a problem with your bill or your bank account or your hamburger, it suddenly matters very much whether you’re talking with somebody in India or Ohio or Athens.
Perhaps because our lives are dominated by remote corporations and government, we have a renewed appreciation for transactions completed locally: for locally grown food prepared by local chefs; for locally fashioned beer and bread and coffee; for music made while we watch and listen, for paintings, pottery, jewelry and clothing that reflect local vision and materials.
The same goes for local journalism. We’re just part of the mix, writing about the events and people we know, helping local businesses thrive, and dependent on them for our own success.
And now, after spending the last 20 of our 26 years down here on Foundry Street, it is time for us to move on to a new location. We think we have found one. We’re negotiating the lease and hope to have the details ironed out soon on a new place that will be a step up for us. Because it’s not yet a done deal, we’ve got to hold off on announcing our new address, but we expect soon to be celebrating our 26th year in new surroundings—still in the middle of Athens, of course.
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