​When our final ‘official’ week in business rolled around I was not sure what to expect. I know I didn’t want it to pass by uneventfully but I didn’t want to try to prefabricate any potential situations in order to give myself a better final memory or two. As it turns out, my final week unfolded as it should with many interesting and wonderful memory-making circumstances.
 
The first actual day we didn’t have to put any work into our next issue of the Similkameen News Leader was actually our last office day. It was Tuesday, July 26 and to help ‘celebrate’ the end of an era, my wife, Brenda and I hosted an all-day, drop-in open house from 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM with coffee and goodies. The visitors were many and the stories shared were heartwarming.
 
A ‘farewell celebration’ was planned the evening of Thursday, July 28. The original planning of this event dated back several weeks when I was approached by Princeton Museum & Archives Society President Rika Ruebsaat in my office. She told me the group wanted to honour Brenda and I for our years of dedication to the community, promotion of history and culture and for our years of community service. I was stunned.
 
I contacted Brenda to see what kind of dates we could come up with as the first date was in mid-July. I wanted to push it into the last week of the month – after the publication of our final newspaper issue – as I did not want coverage of it in my last issue. My personal reason for that was because I did not want to appear as if we were trying to capitalize on the final issue of our newspaper to go on and on about a celebration honouring us. I didn’t feel good about that. However, I had no problem with promoting a lot of the other things we had done in the final few issues. I just saw the ‘farewell celebration’ in a different light and wanted to keep it that way.
 
When Brenda and I arrived at the venue – the third one selected that I was aware of – we were not the first ones there. There was a fairly steady stream of residents who arrived in the first half hour and then a number of speeches were given. Part way through them I started to realize that although I knew we had had an impact on our community, I did not realize the huge size of that imprint. Each speaker indicated how much of a loss our independently-owned newspaper would be to the community and how much of a loss our personal contributions would be.
 
There were times when the evening speakers turned comments into a ‘roast’ and we all had some laughs at my expense. It did always come back to the point for the gathering and some very nice, touching things were said by people I did not expect such things from. I have joked about how we all rarely say nice things about other people until they have passed away. This evening event was sort of like that, but Brenda and I were there to hear and accept all of it. It was a fitting memory for me to forever remember that the Similkameen News Leader, Brenda and I had left our marks in the history of Princeton and the Similkameen Valley that will set standards others may be measured against.
 
The next day, Friday, July 29, both Brenda and I were downtown running errands and decided to stop somewhere in the downtown core for lunch. We drove by our office more than once but did not need to enter it. We will begin emptying it out in the next couple of weeks to prepare the space for a new tenant on September 1st. Brenda suggested two different locations for lunch. I chose her second suggestion using a rather odd criterion – they had advertised with us at least once. So we sat down, enjoyed a tasty meal and when I went to pay the server told me it was “on the house.” She said it was her way of thanking us and the Similkameen News Leader for all we had done in our community.
 
The final week in business for me has become anything but a sad memory. Instead, through various acts of kindness acknowledging our contributions I have been able to work though this time of uncertainty with the knowledge that we did something good and something right while in business. It means a lot to us to be seen this way. It means even more to us to be told while we are still around to experience what that feels like – to be viewed as part of something greater than just another business struggling in the downtown core.

​The day had arrived – our last full day of work in the office. We had come to the end of the eight week run between the announcement of closing our newspaper business and the actual last day. We had predetermined we were going to continue to go out on a high note, so we decided last week we would host a ‘drop-in’ coffee and goodies event from 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM. We chose to order cookies from the local bakery, make coffee and basically prepare to spend the day hanging out with however many people ended up popping in.
 
Neither my wife, Brenda, nor I had any idea what kind of traffic to expect. Typically on a Tuesday, the day following the publication and distribution of the new weekly issue of our paper I am busy ‘tearing down’ the pages on the computer – pulling off ads and deleting photos/articles – to make room for content for the next issue. I’m also downloading files and elements to fill the ‘TV guide’ section. None of that happened as I did not even force the computer I use for this to wake up out of sleep mode as I wasn’t going to be building another issue.
 
The cookie situation, as it turned out, was the source of much conversation between the two of us leading up to today’s celebration and after fluctuating back and forth on how many to get, we decided on a figure. Even at that, there was a fear that it was possibly too much or maybe not enough. Regardless, the local baker donated the cookies and we picked up some extras – just in case. What we did not expect was to have between 50 and 60 people come and go throughout the day.
 
Some stopped in quickly to wish us well. Some stayed long enough to have a quick coffee. Some brought flowers, gifts and cards. Some stayed long enough for a cookie. Some stayed long enough for coffee, a cookie and some conversation. Some stayed for a visit. It was a great way to end my 12 ½ years as owner/publisher. In fact, it also happened to mark an interesting anniversary for me. My first day of work at the Similkameen News Leader was July 26, 2000. That was when I assumed the responsibilities of advertising sales manager. Today, my very last day as owner/publisher was July 26, 2016.
 
The many visitors we had were amazing. We heard so many great things being said about us, the paper, and our contribution to the community and how much our paper and our regular coverage of all things local will be missed. One particular visitor put it into perspective for me. Hanna and I have known each other for probably four or more years. I knew her mother when she was Hanna’s age. Hanna explained to me that the coverage of activities she has been involved in during her high school years that appeared in the News Leader has all been kept in a scrapbook. It filled pages of her scrapbook.
 
That was something I had mentioned in an interview recently with another ‘big city’ newspaper about our closure. I was asked in that interview what I thought set our product apart from that of bigger, corporate newspapers. I answered saying we liked to focus on the smaller things – items bigger papers viewed as ‘soft news’ – because even if it was something like a kid winning an award of some kind, that was still big news to the winner and his or her family. I went on to say that the best compliment I could receive was to know that the things we published became ‘scrapbook material’ because it showed we had an impact somehow at a personal level.
 
Our office celebration was like that. A lot of great stories from friends and readers who wanted us to know we had touched their lives in some way. It was the best day I have ever had at work in my life. Both Brenda and I finished the day in a great state of mind. There were days when we often wondered why we kept trying so hard. There were days I wished that someone would just give me a clue that I was actually on the right path with the way I was doing things. Hanna’s story confirmed this and gave me one of the best memories I will carry from my last day in the office.

​When my wife and I decided it was time to shut down our weekly community newspaper we picked a date eight weeks later. The idea at the time was to give our advertisers, customers, subscribers and assorted others time to prepare. This included setting dates for power, natural gas, phone and internet disconnections. It also gave me a chance to warm up to the thought that soon I too would become disconnected – to the job I had loved for 16 years and gave 110% effort to daily.
 
Looking back as we enter the week filled with ‘finals’ like the final editorial, the final publishing cheque, the final classified ad deadline, the final trip to pick up the printed papers and the final day of work on a newspaper I realize the eight week window was more for me than anyone else. I worked on average 55-hours a week to produce a weekly 20-page paper. It was a 24-pager up until the past couple of years and a 28-pager when I took over as owner/publisher in 2004.
 
The last eight weeks of life left in my ‘baby’ saw it drop down to 16-pages per issue. That’s not a negative as many small town community newspapers are 16-pages or less. What the shift in size did for me was not only slash the cost of printing considerably, it also reduced my workload. For a change I actually had two days off a week and they were one after the other. I had not worked less than six days a week for more than one week in a row for well over 12 years – not counting the four to six days I would take off during Christmas week.
 
As the transition is getting a little easier for me I have noticed something I really did not expect. We are going to be missed. I know that may sound a little on the silly side but we have been running on empty for so long it just felt as if no one cared whether or not we published a paper. It felt as if no one read our paper and it felt as if no one needed or wanted our paper. It was getting very, very discouraging and that plays on your mind.
 
I never gave up trying, though.
 
I always put all my effort into each issue because that is the way I am. I wasn’t about to ‘half-ass’ my way out the door because maybe one person out there really did care what my thoughts were on a particular subject. The realization that we were going to be missed resulted from feedback – mostly shock and sadness – that came from residents when we made the announcement official the first week in June with a giant red headline yelling, “GOING OUT OF BUSINESS.”
 
Even today, on a day off as I was getting gas at a local service station I was on my way to the car to start pumping fuel when someone I did not know got my attention. He looked at me as I passed by and said in a sincere tone, “I’m gonna miss you guys.” It’s been a series of those comments over the past eight weeks that has made me understand that possibly we touched more people in the community than I thought.
 
Cards, e-mails, flowers, phone calls and unannounced visits have sprinkled each day since the first week after our announcement. At times it has been accompanied with tears and hugs. One person shocked me with a spine crushing hug after close to an hour long conversation about how sad they were that we were not receiving enough support from the community to keep our business afloat. Another one was late in the day of our final production day. A former advertiser came into the office and thanked me personally for standing by my ethics throughout my tenure as owner/publisher. He told that to my wife, followed it with a hug and she could see tears in his eyes.
 
It has been a number of people coming out of nowhere saying things from the same general location. I have started to habitually nod my head and respond with, “Thank you, I appreciate you sharing that.” It has been as if someone in our family has passed away and it has affected everyone around us greater than it has affected us. But this is how I have looked at it from the beginning, all of eight weeks ago. My ‘baby’ will finally suffer no more and be put to rest. My ‘baby’ will be remembered fondly by many.
 
I will carry that knowledge with me when I start to enter the mourning phase myself. Knowing there has been so much love and admiration from others for my ‘baby’ will assist me in dealing with the final burial of the paper in the coming week.