|Our last issue--address label to our son Vance, a student at Lubbock Christian|
I'm still recovering, as a matter of fact, after learning of the death of "my" paper, the Waurika News-Democrat at the first of this month.
I was surprised that after all these years--29 to the month after we sold it--I was so raw for my 12 years there.
John Dunn's poetry comes to mind: "No man is an island…any man's death diminishes
me." Any newspaper's death does the same. I am always sad when a newspaper fails, and I know what a paper means to a town. But this made it very personal.
|Clark, with the Don Morrison School of Journalism|
Curtis asked me to write a monthly column for them, and so I put one together, named "Coffee with Clark," from this blog, and the descendant of my long ago column "Trail Talk." It appeared this week, 29 years after I quit writing the other one.
So my excuses are past, the roadblock has been removed.
I go back to Waurika every Mother's Day and plant flowers at Mom's grave, and then drive down those red brick streets, past the old paper office, through the neighborhoods, remembering raising a family there. It can be depressing, as the town has dwindled some. More telling are all the names I know on gravestones in the cemetery.
We gave these away as subscription promotions.
Those thoughts and images are brewing in my coffee pot and in future posts. Ironically, when talking about this blog--billed above as an old-fashioned newspaper column, a good friend said to me once, "You've got your newspaper back."
Lots of stories to come--backshops, cut and paste, darkrooms, selling advertising, and more--a salute to the Waurika News-Democrat, the town's oldest business.