David H. Penn

The stories along the way from Dallas to Lubbock are limitless, but our time is not. And so we’re forced to make choices–which stories to tell or re-tell? Which ones to let go of for now, to let steep a little longer?

With so many stories that could be told, I try to be patient, and wait for something truly special to come along. When I first learned that Olney had a newspaper, a locally owned, print newspaper no less, The Olney Enterprise, that had been in operation for 112 years no less, I knew that something special indeed had come along.

And when I then learned that Mrs. Lori Cox of Olney,^[1]None of the stories you read here, would be possible with the generous cooperation of those willing to share them. So a sincere thanks to Lori Cox, for sharing with us these stories of her Father, … Continue reading with whom I’d already scheduled an upcoming interview, was the daughter of David Penn, who was Editor of The Enterprise for more than 30 of those 112 years, from 1965 to 1997–well, this was one of those serendipitous connections that occur so often with this project that they don’t even really surprise me anymore. Some things were just meant to be; some stories just have be told. The story of David H. Penn, Editor-Publisher, is one of them.

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The no good, very bad news about newspapers

When I began working on this story, I didn’t know much at all about newspapers, and still don’t, compared to those with any level of experience in the industry. I did have a paper route when I was 12, but that was a very long time ago, so I was starting from scratch.

What I found in my research was shocking. I was vaguely aware of the decline in newsprint, but had no idea of how precipitous the decline had become. Between 2005 and 2020, for example, more than 2,100 US newspapers ceased operations. ^[2]Many of the statistics here are drawn from these two reports: Pew Research Center and News Deserts and Ghost Newspapers. See also this Washington Post report, and also here for a focus on the … Continue reading That’s an average of almost 3 closings, per week, every single week, for the last 15 years, totaling the loss of more than one fourth of all the newspapers in the country.

Local news: Going, going, (almost) gone

The vast majority of the papers that closed, have been the smallest and most local. Of the 2,100 that have disappeared since 2005, 85% of them (at least 1,800) were the last remaining print newspaper in the local communities they served. In other words, in the last fifteen years, and by a very conservative estimate, several million Americans have lost all newspaper coverage of their locale or region. All of this makes the still-ongoing operation of The Enterprise, and Mr. Penn’s long tenure there, all the more remarkable.

The reasons for the closures are numerous, the most obvious being the growth of internet traffic (a roughly 20X increase over the same time frame)^[3]Based on analysis by Matthias Schulze and the rise of digital media in general. Based on which, you might say that the loss has not been as devastating as it might seem; that it’s just a shift in the sources of news coverage, rather than a loss of news coverage altogether. To some degree this is true, except for one important area, where the loss is inescapable: local news.

Loss of local news = loss of community

When local news outlets vanish, it’s more damaging than just a hit to the local economy, and the loss of employment for those who work there–it’s also a loss and a weakening of community they help sustain. When the local newspaper goes out of business, people shift to find other sources of news–usually online sources. But the content of the coverage shifts as well. By definition, it shifts ‘upward,’ away from the local issues, to regional, state, national and international news.

In the very same way that many of us do not know the names of the neighbors we’ve lived next door to for years, the loss of the local newspaper is the loss of yet another community forum. Social media has united us around our various special interests. Local newspapers (once) united us around where we live. They united us to the neighbors we liked, and to those we didn’t, but whom, if for none other than very practical/pragmatic reasons, we nevertheless tolerated, and they us. And it was precisely this rich, local coverage, that Mr. Penn provided, and that The Enterprise still provides today, thanks to the support of The Perry’s Foundation, advertisers, and a group of loyal subscribers and contributors, past and present.

And here’s something else you might not have considered: the veracity of local vs nationally-produced news. There’s been a lot of talk recently about ‘fake news.’ The debate over this can get very, very, long, the tit-for-tat tedium of which I’ll spare you, Dear Reader. But let me ask you this: If a reporter wanted to tell a fib, you know, just stretch the truth a little–mind you, this is all hypothetical of course^[4]Wink–who do you think would be more likely to try that in the first place, and also more likely to get away with it? A local reporter for The Olney Enterprise for example–the paper that’s read by the guy who lives next door to that local reporter? Or a reporter who works for one of the national dailies and lives who knows where? Just askin’. Hypothetically of course.

But I don’t need to accuse anybody, because we already know, according to this and numerous other surveys, where readers’ trust levels lie: the percent who have “a great deal” or “a fair amount” of trust in their local newspaper? It’s pretty high, at 73%. For national newspapers: it drops to 59%. And for online-only news sources: less than half, at 47%. Yikes. Again, I don’t need to accuse anyone here; let’s give them the benefit of the doubt, and this fact remains: non-local ownership and non-resident reporters simply don’t have the knowledge, nor the connection and trust with the local community to gather and report in meaningful depth on local news, even if they wanted to.

And let’s be honest, aside from just the ‘news,’ isn’t it nice to find that just a little bit of the local gossip has found its way past the editor, and into the coverage, here and there? Or am I the only one who feels a twinge of disappointment when I go to a coffee shop, and see that the only newspaper on the counter is the USA Today? (Hard pass.)

From this nationwide survey of more than 34,000 people, the percent of respondents who say it’s “very important” or “somewhat important” for journalists to understand the history of the community: 85% (13% say ‘not very’ or ‘not al all’ important; 2% no response or undecided). And the percent who say it’s important or very important for journalists to be “personally engaged in the local community”? 82%. ’nuff said.

Loss of local news = political polarization

And finally, and before moving on to Mr. Penn, I want to draw attention to one more very important role that local newspapers can and do play, in improving one of the largest problems affecting our country today: political polarization.

As described above, when local news sources are lost, the focus of the content is shifted upward, and an important forum for local views is lost. But there’s another, and more ominous result. When content shifts upward, it’s also drastically over-summarized and over-simplified, to produce simplistic, binary categorizations, that are put to effective use, by those who seek to divide us.

This is particularly evident, and particularly damaging, for political discourse, where the diverse views of 330 million unique individuals, are simplistically categorized as either (and only) Republicans, or Democrats or Independents; or as liberals or conservatives, living in states that are either (and only) red, or blue, or purple.

When a multitude of differing personalities and perspectives are forcefully dumbed down into two or at most three categories, this is what enables those who seek power to “control the narrative” as they say–as if there were only one. Until recently in our nation’s history, one of the best and most readily available platforms for publicly voicing your opinion about matters relevant for local life, right alongside those who disagreed, was the local newspaper. To the extent that local platform is gone, and replaced with simplistic national-level categories and debates, the likelihood of division is heightened. Simply stated: The loss of local newspapers contributes to political polarization. Research supports this assertion.

Fortunately, research also support this assertion: local newspapers can help reduce polarization, by focusing on local content that unites, instead of over-summarized content that divides. If editors–from across the political spectrum–will back off the hot rhetoric on national-level political issues, particularly in the editorial and opinion pages, and focus instead on local issues, then more people will join the debate, about and more and different topics of local interest. Of course that debate will be contentious, as it should be–because it’s on topics that are in the local(s) interest. You can read more about all this in the new book Home Style Opinion, by authors J. Darr, M. Hitt, and J. Dunaway, who summarize it this way:

“Local newspapers can hold back the rising tide of political division in America by turning away from the partisan battles in Washington and focusing their opinion page on local issues…While it may not cure all of the imbalances and inequities in opinion journalism, an opinion page that ignores national politics could help local newspapers push back against political polarization.”

Summing up

Thank you, Dear Readers, for hanging in there, through what was admittedly a very long preamble. But there’s a method to this madness: First, I hope the discussion and research above make clear the importance of the local newspaper, and also just how remarkable it is, that both the Olney community, and the The Enterprise over the years–it takes two to tango, and both deserve credit–have kept this good thing going, for more than a century. Congratulations to the community and The Enterprise, and best wishes for the next one hundred and beyond.

Second, I hope this makes clear the need for a sincere, immersive, hands-on, and trustworthy approach to collecting and publishing the local news. This is exactly what David Penn delivered, for more than 32 years. And it’s exactly what the research above, is advocating for a return to, perhaps not in print, but in some form. In this way, I think it’s safe to say that Mr. Penn was ahead of his time.

Working with only a small staff and sometimes on his own, he produced nearly 1,700 consecutive editions of the paper, and without missing a single issue. As you will read below, and based not on my opinion, but on what he himself wrote and published, his commitment to the community never wavered, from the first issue, to the last.

David H. Penn

I never got to meet Mr. Penn. He passed away in February, 2000. But when people make significant, decades-long contributions to their communities, as Mr. Penn has done for Olney, their legacy and their presence remain. His life and work remain inspirational, even decades later, and even for people like me, who never had the chance to meet him–at least not in person, although that seems possible, somehow, in spirit.

I did, however, in the summer of 2021, have the opportunity to meet Mr. Penn’s daughter, Lori. The stories she told of her Father, were those of someone who personified what local news and journalism–and being a loving father and dedicated community leader–are all about.

Community connection

So how do you summarize, or capture the essence of this impactful and engaged editorial career? I’m not sure I’m up to the task, but I’ll begin by relating to you, the first impressions and images that came to my mind after talking with Lori, about the way her Father went about his life and his work.

These are images of a newspaper man, through and though, ‘with printer’s ink in his veins’ as he once described himself; a man with a baritone voice; a man whom, after meeting him, you understood clearly, and without asking, what was meant by the sign displayed prominently on the wall over his desk that read “Big Friendly Olney”; a man with a keen sense of humor and who didn’t take himself too seriously. But above all, my image is that of someone who was very strongly and sincerely connected with, and committed to his community, the community of Olney, Texas. And connected to a depth and degree that I for one, and I suspect many of us, have never experienced.

As I’ve written elsewhere on this site, I think the word ‘community’ is over-used these days. It seems to be thrown around all too lightly, and used in situations where the word ‘category’ might be a better way to describe certain groups, rather than ‘community,’ given the familiarity and empathy the latter implies. But as for the connection between David Penn and the community of Olney, this is the real deal, Y’all. But you be the judge:

A day in the life

As Editor, Mr. Penn’s workdays began early. Leaving his home on South Avenue K each morning, he would walk east down Main Street, all the way to the other side of town, about about nine blocks or roughly three quarters of a mile, to where the paper’s office was located, and where it still remains today, at 213 East Main.

Along the way he’d talk with townspeople, collecting information, listening to their stories about the weather, their aches and pains, and maybe a bit of gossip. He stopped by Cub Drug, and Susie’s Flower Shop, maybe Carter Chevrolet, and met occasionally with city officials. He’d take a few photos and orders for ads, and essentially gather, in-person and unfiltered, the raw material to be written up and published as the news of life in Olney. In the afternoons he made the trip again, walking west this time, back up Main Street, toward home.

On Tuesdays, the return route was different. “Every Tuesday afternoon” explained Lori, “he stopped at every school–at the high school and at the junior high and the elementary school, and picked up anything they were doing. So sports, or “A” Honor Roles, or what clubs were meeting, or whatever. He made sure that those kids’ pictures were in the paper, and their names were in the paper. He just wanted them to feel that they were important. And every Friday night he was at the football game, runnin’ the sidelines, gettin’ stats. He hated being in the press box. Every Friday night, runnin’ up and down that field, until he retired.”

Wednesdays were spent assembling the paper for printing; Thursday mornings distributing them, in person, to various locations around town (and golf in the afternoon); Fridays, news gathering for the following week’s paper (and football!); Saturdays spent with the family, and Sundays at church. Not a bad life, wouldn’t you agree?

But more importantly, imagine if you will, the depth of the connection between this small community and its local paper, as a result of Mr. Penn’s hands-on and sincere approach to the local news, carried on for more than thirty years. Imagine the contribution to a community, from performing, at various times over the years, as Mr. Penn did, the roles and responsibilities of: music director at the First United Methodist Church, member and secretary of the Rotary Club, member and president of the Chamber of Commerce, Chairman of the Olney Community Development Agency, substitute teacher, high school golf coach, and Mayor.

“He was a fierce, loyal proponent of Olney, Texas,” Lori continued. “He wanted it to be successful; he wanted the kids to be successful…he always told us when we were growing up, that it was our responsibility, you know, to uphold wherever you are living. Wherever you’re living, you have to be a part of the town. You have to be involved, and working for, where you live. You can’t expect someone else to do it for you.” Clearly, he practiced what he preached.

A legacy begins

Along with two partners–brother Bill Penn and Lee Brown–Mr. Penn purchased the Olney Enterprise from Marvin Hickey, effective February 1st, 1965. They were a young team: David was just 29, his younger brother Bill was 27, and the third partner Lee, just 28.

The first edition published under David’s editorship appeared on February 11, 1965 (Volume 54, No. 6.), available for 10 cents a copy. Many of the headlines on that day show how life in many ways remains unchanged: the race for city council was heating up; the Chamber of Commerce presented its new plans for growth; the mobile blood bank would be in town on the 25th: “Rare types of blood are particularly needed, they emphasized.”

Other things, of course, have changed, particularly prices: Roast beef (Wilson’s Certified U.S.D.A. Grade “A”) was advertised for just 35 cents a pound at the Piggly Wiggly. From the classifieds: A new, 11-piece aluminum cookware set for your roast beef: $10.99. Savers could earn ‘four and a quarter percent’ interest on deposits at Olney Federal.

My favorite example, however, of just how much times have changed, was this astonishing headline that appeared on pg. 7: “Most Texas Drivers Observe Speed Limit.” Apparently, the speed limit on many Texas highways had recently been raised, in late 1964, to the 70 m.p.h. we’re familiar with today. Soon after the change, a study showed that more than 11% of drivers on Texas highways were exceeding even the new higher speed limit. Just one year later, however, the percent of speeding drivers had declined by half, to just over 5%. As for why speeds had jumped initially, but then fell back, the Highway Department was stumped, and apparently didn’t take too kindly to any smartypants reporter asking for an explanation: “We’re engineers, not psychiatrists” snapped one Department official. “The novelty wore off. At least that’s all we can figure.”

Unwavering commitment

There’s much more to come, in telling the story of David Penn. But for now, I’m going to fast forward, to the final edition of the paper before his retirement and sale of the paper, published on July 31st, 1997.

What’s clear, is that even after 30+ years, his dedication to the community never wavered. With this final issue, like those before it, the purposes of serving and informing the community are manifest: “I plan to do everything I can to help the new owners get to know Olney and the people….they are successful newspaper people and I feel good about them coming here,” he wrote. Readers were cautioned about a series of break-ins that had occurred at the school and the library; voters could find information for an upcoming special election, with specific poll locations and times provided, as always, in meticulous detail; parents were informed on when and where to register their children for back-to-school. This is only a portion of the information provided on just the front page, with roughly the same word count as a 30-minute TV news broadcast. This day’s edition of The Enterprise had 12 pages.

And as always, the youth of the community were not overlooked. Detailed coverage of the Olney Junior Oilbelt Golf Tournament, completed earlier in the week, could be found on page two. Although they already knew the tournament results, I can envision the players, eagerly scanning the pages to find their own names in print, circling them, maybe clipping out the article to decorate the refrigerator, or show off to their friends, just like Mrs. Curtis’ “Busy Beaver” fifth graders had probably done with their article, some thirty years earlier. This time around, for the golf tournament, the names included Tanner Shifflett and Rue Rogers (now Mayor of Olney), who had played a three-hole tiebreaker to decide the winner of the 8-9 age group.

Over the years, I wonder how many people, children and adults alike, were similarly uplifted, after having their efforts recognized in the paper? How many days were brightened? How many magnets holding up how many clippings on how many refrigerator doors? Countless. Thank you, Mr. Penn.

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I will leave the closing words to Mr. Penn, taken from his final “Penn Point” column, which long-time readers will recall, could always be found on the left side of the front page. Ever true to form, he began his final column in 1997 just as he began the first one in 1965–by thanking the readers and the members of the community, and doing so–also true to form–with a little bit of humor:

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