New York family-owned, free weekly newspaper survives with hard-working owners, positivity, interaction with readers

    

(Cup Fabian Barra via Sunsplash)

Publisher Mark Frost does everything at The Chronicle in Glens Falls, NY, from writing stories and editorials, to delivering thousands of his free weekly to the racks. He probably would sweep the floor, too, if he could find it under the stacks of papers he has leafed through in his office, or if he could find the time. A photo of Frost in his office, among others, appears in a New York Times story by Erek Wimple, who uses The Chronicle as an example of how some locally-owned newspapers are refusing to die.

Wimple cites the stats: “Though nearly 3,500 newspapers have ceased publication since the mid-2000s, about 2,250 publications like The Chronicle” have held their own. “Large newspaper chains, the ones prone to consolidation, can’t be bothered with them.”

While The Chronicle hasn’t completely escaped potential demise — the pandemic nearly put it to bed — Frost says he has been able to rebound in part by staying connected with his readers. He engages with them when he fills the racks in places where readers, like they used to do in most small towns, stand in line waiting for the newspaper to arrive. Sometimes, however, he has to police the meaning of “free.” He tolerates a reader taking two or three to share with family and friends but when one customer grabbed a handful and told Frost he was “packing some glass,” Frost retrieved them.

Readership has retained its strength because of a focus on the readers, Wimple reports. Schools get heavy coverage, “along with town-hall meetings, local business happenings and, of course, parking.” Even more intensely local news has included such things a “the latest rattlesnake attack” or a “front-page feature on butchering a deer.”

Wimple describes some of the coverage as “boosterism,” noting the “sunny coverage” of restaurant openings as an example, and a tendency to either avoid the negative or move it deep inside the issue. “Our newspaper is more interested in who’s making progress than who’s screwing up,” Frost wrote in 2020. (Wimple researched more than 100 editions of The Chronicle for his report.)

The approach is not appreciated by more traditional journalists. Wimple cites one editor from The Post-Star in Baltimore, where Frost once worked, who said The Chronicle has lost credibility by cozying up to advertisers. But Frost countered that he has lost advertisers because of some coverage. And the paper’s politics are widely seen as middle of the road, or even unrecognizable.

The Chronicle may have a future, too. Frost is 75. He says there have been no offers to buy the paper. But Zander Frost, his 34-year-old son, has taken to the task, at least for now.

Kentucky mother and daughter stand firm against data center; decline $26 million offer for 500 acres of family land

   

The artificial intelligence boom has introduced the potential
for data centers into communities across America, pitting
technology against humanity and neighbor against neighbor.
(Photo by Igor Omilaev via Sunsplash)

The news about controversies surrounding data centers in one state has become so frequent that one outlet has started publishing a regular story updating the proposals in big cities and small. The Kentucky Lantern announced the new feature this week. It not only ticks off the list of recent activity but provides an interactive map of proposals statewide.

The conflict is no more evident than in rural Mason County, near Maysville, where a mother and daughter are fighting off an attempt to buy their land for more than $26 million. In a Wall Street Journal report by Erich Schwartzel, a community became divided when Delsa Bare, 54, and “nearly blind” from diabetes, and her mother Ida Huddleston, 83, were offered the fortune by a company that remains unidentified but is believed to be Meta. 

At first they agreed to the deal but when they learned that their land would be used to build a massive data center, in support of artificial intelligence, they changed their minds. “I believe artificial intelligence will be the destruction of the human race,” Bare told Schwartzel. They were further insulted by the request that they sign a non-disclosure agreement to seal the deal. The loss of the more than 500 acres owned by Bare and Huddleston has thwarted plans for the 2,000-acre project, affecting the futures of people on both sides of the issue.

Schwartzel observes, “Town meetings still start with the Pledge of Allegiance but often end in insults. Sisters have found themselves on opposite sides of the issue. And local officials who normally update constituents on the sideline of a football game now say they are legally barred from sharing what they know.”

Neighbors have filed lawsuits against neighbors, resulting in the company “holding back checks worth tens of millions of dollars to Maysville farmers who’d expected a windfall,” Schwartzel reported. The owner of a bar frequented by less fortunate residents says many in the community need the 400 jobs the data center would bring, not to mention those needed to build it, and Maysville needs the taxes, which could be tripled. One local official says the company has promised an additional $15 million for local emergency services and $80 million to upgrade the water system.

Meanwhile, Bare gets pats on the back from local data center opponents and letters of encouragement from strangers. Despite her eyesight, she was able to guide the reporter around the farm just by the feel of the ground. Schwartzel reported that Bare knows the data center may still be built, perhaps nearby, but she stands by her decision.

“On the Judgment Day, I’m only called to account for what I was supposed to be responsible for,” she told Schwartzel. “That’s the only way it can go on Judgment Day. What were you responsible for?”