A lament for a small town newspaper

Not long after publishing my memoir, Remembered Fragments, I thought it might be an idea to contact the Newry Reporter in order to draw this momentous event to their attention. After all, at various points, the Newry Reporter made an appearance in episodes I recalled in the book. The slightly portentous style of its journalism in the late 1960s, particularly where sport was concerned, had made something of an impression on my young mind. I found a telephone number for the paper and rang up.  I was answered by someone who described himself as the editor. 

I formed the impression of a young man, possibly in his early 30s, sitting back in one of those wheeled chairs that tip satisfyingly with the occupant when they lean back.   That’s what I imagined this young man was  doing when he received my call; leaning back, enjoying a break from his computer screen, perhaps even with his feet up on the desk, ankles crossed. 

“How can I help you?”  he enquired.

I summarised the nature of the book and told him that I’d sent a copy to Colum Sands.  He had emailed me to say he was enjoying it. The young man seemed to have heard of Colum Sands, and did not disagree with my assertion that Colum was a local person of some cultural significance. However, my offer of a free copy of Remembered Fragments for review purposes met with obvious disdain. 

On reflection, my approach was naive.  I had imagined myself phoning into a busy office. Perhaps that was the case, but having examined the current business model of the Reporter I have some doubts about this image and imagine the editor was, as likely as not, all on his lonesome.  

The Reporter is no longer published in a print edition, but continues to exist as part of a consortium of local papers each with their content entirely online. Many column inches are filled with shared stories of national or even international significance.

In the case of the Newry Reporter, the banner title so familiar to me still exists with its gothic lettering framing the little motif of St. Patrick sitting between the two yew trees on the strand, which were to give Newry its name. Apart from this handsome banner, there is no similarity between the online paper as it is today and the paper I remember. The new business model relies heavily, it would seem, on copy submitted by members of the public.   I daresay the editor himself engages with the larger local stories when they emerge.  

When he had finished my book Colum Sands was good enough to send me a review. I submitted this to the Reporter. They published it. I’m very grateful for that, despite the fact that the presentation of the review is, for me, somewhat marred by the presence of multiple advertisements and a standard layout which hints that I might myself have written this favourable review. 

But in other respects, what could be wrong with a local news platform filled with just such unpaid contributions. Indeed, that may be the only way in which “the local” in local papers can continue to exist.

Perhaps the Newry Reporter always relied on some element of voluntary journalism. Were the reports on the Carnbane League and multiple other sporting events which were documented in the paper, really the work of professional journalists? It is hard to imagine a payroll that extensive. Nevertheless, the Reporter, as I remember it, was an institution deeply embedded in the lives of Newry people. It united all the disparate elements of local life: sport, music, drama, education, the visual arts, commerce, criminal behaviour, marriages, births, deaths. The paper, so far as I could see, navigated matters of religion and politics without becoming entangled in any of the divisions which marred the world in which I grew up. 

The Newry Reporter had been founded in 1867 by James Burn. However in 1915 it was acquired by Edward Hodgett, and the Hodgett family were to be the proprietors until  January 11th 2023 when its locally based production became unviable and it was sold to National World, a company with its head office in Leeds. 

As a boy scout in Newry, I had some knowledge of the Hodgett  family.  Noel Hodgett, or “Frosty”, the name by which everyone in the scouts knew him, had an enduring connection with the First Newry troop. Frosty, along with his brothers Max and Richard, was a director of Edward Hodgett Ltd, the company, founded by their father, that owned the Newry Reporter

I always understood that Frosty had a connection with the paper though was never clear what precisely his role was in the weekly appearance of the Newry Reporter in our household. He did not strike me as a journalist, a purveyor of the written word, but nor for that matter did he seem in the least like a small town Rupert Murdoch. 

At the time I became a scout, Frosty had withdrawn from weekly attendance at meetings, but nevertheless I remember him coming on annual camps. We delighted in his reputation, a jovial figure, his good humour beaming from many of the photographs recording those great adventures. 

From stories I heard about Frosty I came to believe that he was more than just good humour. There was evidence that he had a benign understanding of the many concerning stages through which adolescent boys develop on their way to a state which might pass as maturity. He was as interested in the miscreants as much as those destined to become Queen’s Scouts. 

To what extent these rich human qualities were shared by the other directors of Edward Hodgett Ltd, or influenced  production  of the Reporter, would be hard for me to say, but what is  clear is that Frosty was a newspaper proprietor with much more than just a commercial interest in the community which he served.

Can National World match this level of commitment to the many small communities to which it now provides an online news service? The Newry Reporter’s shift from print to a shared online platform reflects a wider trend. Studies show that as local papers are absorbed by conglomerates, their original character often fades, replaced by homogenized content and community-submitted copy—a far cry from the deeply rooted journalism of Frosty Hodgett’s era.  

It is, however, too early to judge the matter. We are on a journey where the provision of news is concerned and it could be that the esteem in which local print media were once held in so many communities may in time be matched by the online output of National World and their like. In 2022, the Hussman School of Journalism and Media compiled a report which includes the following call to action. 

Making certain that no community is disenfranchised because its residents lack access to critical information is the journalistic challenge of the 21st century. The burden for accomplishing this mission is not only on journalists, but also on community activists, philanthropists, owners of news organizations and government officials to make sure newsrooms have the resources they need to enfranchise everyone.

Endnotes

Home Page – The Newry Reporter  

Review of Remembered Fragments in the Newry Reporter

Review on YourWorld.Net  This is the same review by Colum Sands minus advertisements but also without the historic Newry Reporter Banner.

News Deserts and Ghost Newspapers: Will Local News Survive?  A paper which documents the decline in local media in the US, argues the importance of local media for a vibrant local democracy, and suggests possible ways of reinventing local news. 

Website – Colum Sands