Illustration by Kevin McFadin
In late March, after nearly 140 years in publication, the Herald-Progress newspaper in Hanover County folded, along with its sister paper, the Caroline Progress. Based in Ashland, the Herald-Progress specialized in community news; it was perfectly tailored to the needs of what was once a sleepy little railroad town, and is now growing into a mini-metropolis. The loss is a deep one, and feels personal to me.
My first journalism internship was at the Herald-Progress. As a bright-eyed college sophomore on summer break, my very first story in print was a profile of the late Rachel Thompson, a Hanover County community leader and longtime youth advisor of our local chapter of the NAACP. I can’t explain the pride I felt seeing my byline for the first time, or how fascinated I was by the process of working with an editor. What I can say for certain: The support and encouragement of my hometown newspaper transformed my hazy, post-college plans to “become a writer” into a sincere desire to report the news and write stories that mattered to my community.
I know I’m not the only area journalist who feels this way. The Herald-Progress shared wedding announcements and town government developments with the same zeal; if it was of potential interest to Ashlanders, almost no story was too small. That kind of journalism, laser-focused on its readers and what they care about, builds a certain level of trust and respect over the years. When I was growing up, there was always a copy of the Herald-Progress on the kitchen table at my Grandma and Papa’s home in western Hanover; because they read it, I read it, too.
“Newspapers are a critical part of the American news landscape, but they have been hard hit as more and more Americans consume news digitally,” the Pew Research Center reported in 2017, noting that daily print circulation has been dropping since 2000, along with advertising revenue. Citing declines in print advertising, the Richmond Times-Dispatch in February cut 21 positions (12 of which were vacant) and boosted subscription prices.
For smaller papers, such losses can be deadly. In January, the Hopewell News folded mainly because it was “no longer economically viable,” according to its owners, Lancaster Management Inc. The same reasoning was behind the closures of the Herald-Progress and the Caroline Progress, owned by Tennessee-based Lakeway Publishers, Inc. Several of my colleagues who still work at small papers worry incessantly; they fear that the question is not if their paper will fold, but when. “Will we get any notice if our shop closes?” they wonder.
For those of us who care about the happenings in our communities (shouldn’t we all?), the responsibility of keeping our papers alive falls on our shoulders. As Virginia Commonwealth University associate journalism professor and Capital News Service manager Jeff South commented on Facebook in response to the H-P’s closing, “As citizens and news consumers, we need to support local media by realizing news isn’t free. Buy a subscription.” You can also share your local paper’s news on social media, and sign up for its electronic newsletters, which are almost always free. Visibility matters.
Ashland is changing. Patrick Henry High School, my alma mater, still sits across from a cow pasture, but the homey town where I grew up is evolving: A brewery was born here in 2012; a pair of pricey new neighborhoods now exist about a mile from Interstate 95; and even 106-year-old Cross Bros. Grocery is completely revamping its interior, adding a coffee bar and other modern niceties in a bid to attract new customers and curious Randolph-Macon College students, no doubt. With each of these changes, our local paper kept us informed.
When Virginia’s Department of Rail and Public Transportation proposed a high-speed rail service that would eventually offer speedy commutes from Richmond to Washington, D.C., but would possibly slice through the heart of Ashland or portions of Hanover County farmland, the Herald-Progress not only reported the facts, it invited readers to share their views on the pros and cons of the project, dubbed DC2RVA.
As they got older, my grandparents scanned the Herald-Progress’s obituary section faithfully, keeping an eye out for the death notices of old friends. “Did you hear so-and-so passed? We’d better call the family today,” they’d say to each other after learning the news in the paper they knew and trusted. Our community depended on the Herald-Progress to stay connected.
My church, Mt. Carmel Baptist, celebrates its 150th anniversary the first Sunday in May. The week before the Herald-Progress announced its closure, I had helped my mom proofread a notice about our special day before she sent it to the paper. When we heard the news, the first thing she said was, “I guess we’ll have to share the church’s announcement another way.” Would any other local paper publish it, without cost, as the Herald-Progress would have done? Would anyone outside of Hanover care about a tiny country church’s sesquicentennial? It matters to us, and would have mattered to the readers of the Herald-Progress.
A freelance journalist focusing on art, culture and history, Samantha Willis contributes to a variety of local publications.
