As local news editor at the Globe Gazette, I fielded a lot of phone calls, (some of them were actually nice!) but few conversations were as memorable as those I had with longtime reader Mr. Edgar.
I'd answer the phone, stifling a sigh and ready to get an earful, already knowing who it was because he still has a landline, and his name and Garner, Iowa, prefix shows up on the caller ID.
Without fail, he'd identify himself — first and last name — immediately followed up with ”31/32/33-year subscriber of the Globe Gazette, (the number of years changed each time he called) and I also subscribe to the Garner Leader and Des Moines Register."
He called regularly with grievances that, to be fair, were mostly minor — late delivery, why didn't we cover an event, too political, not political enough — the usual, but it always seemed like it took forever to make him happy enough to end the phone call. Maybe he just wanted someone to talk to.
One day, however, he called with a different inquiry: "Is the Globe Gazette going out of print?" His was not the only phone call we got that day asking us the same thing.
It was June 2023, and our paper, along with a number of sibling publications company-wide, announced we were scaling back our daily print schedule to just three days a week.
As employees, we knew the company’s move was a cost-saving measure that would likely stave off job cuts while also driving readers to our website. But for folks like Mr. Edgar, who are attached to the heritage print product, and who make reading it part of their daily routine, the new three-day schedule was not a welcome change.
To be honest, as a consumer, I'm a softy for a good print product. I like thumbing through a magazine or grabbing a paper off a newsstand rack. But, as a journalist and visual storyteller — oh, man. I'm enticed by what digital platforms offer a news outlet's subscribers. Vibrant photo galleries, captivating video, up-to-the-minute breaking news, in-depth and meaningful reporting not limited by an inch count to fit it on a print page...an endless sea of diverse content available at a reader's fingertips. Give me all of the digital.
Listen, I'm a Gen-X student of the darkroom. I know too well the heartbreak of giving up the ways of the analog world. I loved the smell of the developer and the slick feel of the photo paper as it came out of the stop bath. But...however...let's get real. If I was meant to continue in the art of photography, I had to lean into to the new medium.
It was a hard and somewhat sad transition for me, but once I dove in…my goodness, did my world open up. I no longer needed a photo enlarger to crop an image. I didn't need a glue press or a paper cutter or chemicals. I could edit photos with powerful, comprehensive software and deliver them online to a huge audience. And for far less money.
I still find myself longing for early afternoons turned late nights in the darkroom. I miss the red-tinged lights that made the room glow like a sunset. I miss it all sometimes. Which is why I can empathize with Mr. Edgar and lament, at least in some aspects, about a mostly bygone analog era.
A few days ago, I heard from a former co-worker at the Globe whose job was eliminated last Monday, not quite two months after mine was. He was in charge of circulation, which handles the print product and its delivery. His termination, he surmised, signals that the company is one step closer to publishing strictly online. His supposition could give some explanation as to why my job was cut too. Along with my duties leading the newsroom, a chunk of my time was taken up by putting our print product to bed three times a week. If that task is eliminated, I was then expendable. Maybe. I don’t know; I'll argue over and over against any reasoning they could come up with, but..moving on.
Now, it's only speculation that a shift to a digital-only presence is on the horizon for my beloved former paper, but the thought does beg the question: Would its readers be better off going digital? My honest answer? Yes. And will some legacy readers, especially aging folks like Mr. Edgar, feel hurt by the loss of a physical newspaper in their hands every day? Also, yes.
The truth is, digital is the law of the land. It's why CD and DVD players are being phased out. It's why e-readers and audiobooks are the new norm for consuming authors’ works. It's why phone directories are now the size of a church newsletter.
Everything is moving online.
So, as to not become antiquated and fade into obsolescence, newspapers have no option but to move in the same direction. They must take their online presence to new heights, staying ahead of an evolving landscape of media-sharing platforms and tailoring their product to reach the widest audience possible. Alongside a dynamic website and app, they need to be on Twitter (I will never call it X), TikTok, Facebook, Instagram, Bluesky, Threads, YouTube — I feel like I’m missing one. Publications have to push their news products to all corners of the internet to draw in new generations of subscribers to become the next wave of legacy readers.
If it's not obvious, I want the news delivered to everyone who wants access to it, whether it be a physical or digital subscription. Because, regardless of how it's consumed, exposure to unbiased reporting and engaging feature pieces opens and nourishes your mind. It allows you to feel connected and in-the-know, offering a sense of community or, at the very least, an alleviation of boredom.
However, an internet-based product is not without its troubles for publishers. No matter how user-friendly they're intended to be, even the most polished of web interfaces can leave luddites fumbling to log on.
So, as papers work hard to reel back spending and appeal to new generations of subscribers — while also possibly losing their less-than-tech-savvy readers or those without internet service — how do we bolster our local news desks to keep them from going altogether dark?
Easy. Click on articles, share links, comment on social media posts to boost engagement, shout out or tag a reporter whose work resonates with you, BUY AND/OR GIFT A SUBSCRIPTION. News isn't free to produce. If you don't support local journalism, it WILL go away. Think of what that would look like for your community. Looks pretty bleak, doesn’t it?
It's an inevitability we will see markets move to a fully digital publication, which, again, is a good thing. It will allow journalists, photographers, and designers many creative freedoms, which should garner new and return eyeballs to the site. The move will also hopefully patch up the revenue leaks left behind by a print product that's been in extremis for years now. It's coming. And I, for one, embrace it.
That doesn't mean, though, I'm not still rooting for Mr. Edgar, who clings so tightly to his thumb-smudged pages of newsprint every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. I want him to soak up all of the news he can until the end of the printing-press era and be able to say that he stuck with the paper until deliveries came to a historic end.
But...because the news itself plods ever onward, I also really hope when that day comes, he has a smartphone or tablet or computer with which he can still access the beautiful product he's loved for over three decades. Otherwise, my old boss will be in for one heck of an angry phone call from a Garner landline.
Lisa Grouette is a proud member of the Iowa Writers Collaborative, a group of Iowa writers, journalists, authors, and content producers. If you enjoy hearing from Iowa voices, please consider helping to broaden their reach with a paid subscription. Your support goes a long way.
Oh how I looked forward to reading the Globe! The loss of “localness” is devastating to the community in my opinion. After my mother died 13 years ago I found a tiny obit for my brother who was stillborn and they misspelled my name. I loved looking at who got engaged or married, who bought new homes, who got arrested. Especially I loved little tiny blurbs on the second sports page telling the score of sophomore girls basketball games and seeing how many points my daughter, your classmate Katy Sprau, scored. And those little blurbs are in a scrapbook.
In the big scheme of things it doesn’t matter but the loss of those little history things breaks my heart.
I hope you are finding wonderful things to do with your writing and photography talents.
Thank you so much!