The Things We Aren’t Supposed to Talk About
The Things We Aren’t Supposed to Talk About
What Happens When the Local Paper Fades: The Unspoken Truth - a special editorial opinion.
There’s been a gnawing at the pit of my stomach for weeks now. This is a day I knew was coming—the day when the future of our local newspaper would hang by a thread. I wrote about it years ago, back when I first walked away from the Trail-Gazette. But this feels different. I’m not walking away now—I just don’t know if we even still have a newspaper or if it will last longer than the next few weeks.
I’ll continue writing my weekly column, The Edge of Insight, even though Friday’s edition of the paper didn’t hit newsstands until Tuesday. I have no idea who’s left on staff or if the column I submit will be published this Friday. The website seems frozen in time, and hard-won advertisers are growing uneasy. Everything feels like it’s unraveling. I am sure I will hear some blowback for writing this piece… but this is the truth of what is happening to our small-town newspaper, and it is still my job to speak the truth, to talk about the things we aren’t supposed to talk about, even if it’s about the paper itself. So, this week’s Edge of Insight Column maybe my last, we shall see. I would hope that the journalistic ethics of those still manning the helm are such that they wont just can my column. I sure love writing it everyweek.
I remember the pride I felt seeing my first byline in the paper. It was something I could hold in my hands, a tangible connection to the community, something that meant I was a part of something bigger. But now, it feels like I’m watching the end of an era—a piece of Estes Park’s history slipping away, and with it, part of my own.
The Estes Park Trail-Gazette has been more than a newspaper; it’s been a mirror of our town’s soul since 1921, chronicling our triumphs and challenges. It began as the Estes Park Trail, created to serve both the locals and the growing wave of tourists drawn to the town and Rocky Mountain National Park. In 1958, it merged with the Estes Park Herald, marking a new chapter as the Estes Park Trail-Gazette.
For over a century, the paper reflected the life of our community, covering everything from town government to debates over tourism, conservation, and infrastructure. It was the place where locals spoke truth to power, where our challenges were laid bare for all to see.
But now, it feels like the Trail-Gazette is a ship that’s been tied to the dock for too long. As the advertising models shifted and the ship sat idle, rats—what some might call vulture capitalists—began to strip away at the crew and even the hull itself, not caring if the ship could still sail or weather the storms gathering on the horizon.
Those rats are the same ones that have infested countless local newspapers across the country, and they go by the name Alden Global Capital. Through its subsidiary MediaNews Group, Alden has gutted local journalism in pursuit of profit. They acquired the Trail-Gazette in 2011, and since then, the paper has been on a slow decline. Alden’s slash-and-burn approach has been well-documented—cutting staff, reducing budgets, and squeezing out profits while communities like ours are left withering.
The Trail-Gazette isn’t the only casualty. Local newspapers across the country have been hollowed out, leaving voids in communities that relied on them for accountability and connection. Alden became a major player in this game of corporate greed, buying up papers like the Denver Post and the Boulder Daily Camera, only to strip them down for parts. The Trail-Gazette is just another asset to them—another piece of their portfolio to be exploited until there’s nothing left.
I want to be clear about something though—those stalwart souls still trying to captain the sinking ship at the Trail-Gazette and other home town newspapers facing similar circumstances are good people, holding onto the dream of a good cause. I commend them for their perseverance, for doing what they can with what little remains. But as much as I respect their efforts, I don’t hold on to too much hope for the future of the paper. That’s not a criticism of them; it’s just the sad reality of what happens when corporate greed takes priority over community journalism.
I’ve felt a renewed sense of hope lately with the national political scene shifting, but here in Estes Park, things seem to be getting worse. These are the things we aren’t supposed to talk about—the slow collapse of our local newspaper, the whispers about our town hospital being on the verge of failure, the ongoing saga of the Stanley Hotel’s sale. All of these threads are unraveling at once, and there’s no clear way forward.
Take Visit Estes Park, for instance. We had a CEO who was, in my opinion, the best person for the job. Kara Franker was driven out by the political strife that’s been brewing since the new Board of Trustees took over. In her final interview, she made it clear: she couldn’t stand the alliances and power plays that had turned the board into a battlefield. She said, “There have been whisper campaigns launched about me... This is a place that I do not want to be long-term anymore.”
Her words resonate beyond just her departure. They reflect a broader sense of unease—one that has me wondering if we’re truly seeing the troubles coming at us as a community. I feel there are some in our town government who would prefer to do their business out of the public eye, and with the decline of the Trail-Gazette, it seems like they’re getting their wish.
Without a local newspaper to back me up, I’m left questioning how I can continue doing the work I’ve been doing—writing about the things we aren’t supposed to talk about. Not having a paper behind me when things get litigious gives me pause. I’ll keep writing, of course, but some of the more dangerous work may have to wait. There’s only so much risk I can take without institutional support.
It’s a sad and disheartening day for me. I’ve always wanted to make a living as a writer, but watching the paper I grew up with slip away feels like a personal loss. I’ll continue focusing on my books and my posts here at the Colorado Switchblade, and I’ll still cover breaking news and offer my thoughts on life in our mountain town. But for now, I’ll have to pull back on the investigative work that’s been central to my journalism.
We’re seeing the end of an era, and while it may just be a blip on the national radar, the loss of our hometown paper will have consequences that ripple through this community in ways we can’t yet fully grasp. We’ll pay the collective cost together.
End Note:
This has been a difficult piece to write, reflecting on the potential loss of our local newspaper and the uncertainty we’re all facing as a community. For those looking for something a little lighter, I’ve also published a fun antidote piece in the Trail-Gazette this week—a reflection on my recent immersion into the Bobiverse series. You should be able to read my new Edge of Insight Column in the next day or so or in Friday’s paper. And, in case you were wondering, the Friday paper was finally delivered this Tuesday.
09/20/2024 - CORRECTION: I totally had a small mental lapse and misspelled Kara Franker's name; I corrected it to Kara with a K. I also took out an extra e in ‘week’ earlier in the article.
