Publisher’s Point Of View
Robert Allan Hooftallen

I have been absent more often than not in this section of the newspaper. I haven’t been able to figure out why I have been at such a loss for words. I tried to convince myself that it was writer’s block, a result of having spread myself too thinly.

But I realize now that has not been it at all. I think my relative silence is akin to stage fright. In the past three months, our readership has nearly doubled and the realization of that has clouded me. Beyond the practical challenges of managing that growth, I have been intimidated by the new audience and unsure about my ability to reach it.

I have feared, frankly, that my best work may very well be behind me. After all, this is the 182nd edition of this paper and I’ve poured myself into every one of them. There have been perhaps 25 that have lacked this column. Many of those have come in the last several months.

Much of what I have written here is different than what you may expect in a column because I rarely write to an audience— I am writing to work through something in me or to get something out of me. That approach has given this letter a level of intimacy, a sense of connection between me and the readership.

Perhaps it is a self-serving and one-sided relationship, an ingredient of my inspiration, most occasions, that is the perspective from which I write.

Rarely do I write about public issues. Believe me, I follow them and I understand them. And this newspaper will weigh in on issues when we believe strongly that our influence can be helpful.

But, generally, I believe that sounding off about issues is a lot like bashing the Game Commission or a political entity: writers do it because it’s easy. In most cases, the last thing anyone needs, or cares to hear, is another opinion.

News is our business. And we’ll do it well.

But our mission is to bring it to life by celebrating the ties that bind us as people and as a community— to use our art to enhance your lives, your families and your emotions.

The motivation for that approach is simple: the best stories are not play-by-play reports from some governmental meeting. They

are not about job creation. They are not about crime and punishment.

The best stories are the ones that transcend our cerebral perceptions and judgments. They are the ones that reach our hearts.

The best stories chronicle the struggles and triumphs, the tragedies and the blessings that separate us from every other living being.

It’s human emotion.

And at Christmas let’s be mindful of the lessons of human emotion played out in A Christmas Carol.

Let’s have the wisdom to choose a present that doesn’t leave a regretful past.

Let’s have the strength to pave a future that protects what’s good in us, yet welcomes the potential in change.

And in the new year, let’s have the courage to set our course for good and stay it, come what may.