The first edition of the Sun Day, published April 7, 2010.
When you break a newsĀ¬paper down to its most basic level, itās one thing: an hourglass. Let me explain. A newspaper gathers independent information, call them granules of information, from a wide area, condenses them, and feeds that information back out to that same area, where it disperses. Turn the hourglass over, and the action repeats. A newspaper is time and motion, and this edition is the hundredth turn of the Sun Day.
In the three-and-a-half years the Sun Day has been publishing, weāve celebrated numerous milestones, the first edition perhaps being the greatest. Mainly because what lunatic starts a newspaper at a time when newspapers were folding all over the country? When one of my friends told some of my old college newspaper coworkers about my pursuits, my friend was asked, āIs he crazy?ā Maybe. I personally believe that a dash of craziness is needed to make anything a success. Some people call it bravery. I call it crazy. But for all the milestones the Sun Day has achieved, thereās none quite so crazy as celebrating our 100th edition.
One hundred anything is crazy. A hundred years, a hundred degrees, a hundred miles per hour. A hundred laughs. A hundred editions at times feels like all those.
Shortly after the Sun Day published its fourth edition, I found myself near the office of the newspaper I worked at before the Sun Day and decided to drop in and see my former managing editor. When he asked me what edition we were on, I told him four but that it felt like a hundred. The Sun Day was very new back then, with nowhere near the amount of staff and contributors it has now. The work was hard … but good. But hard. And we shared a laugh about that. Itās safe to say now that I didnāt know what I was in for, because more than anything, now that weāre here, a hundred editions feels good.
When John Ritter celebrated the hundredth episode of Threeās Company, he flipped the cake in the air and caught it on the way down, candles still lit. Well, I donāt know about the candles, but Mr. Ritter caught it in one piece. And I think thatās about as emblematic as I can describe the hundredth edition. The Sun Day was flipped into the air a little over three years ago and came down in one piece. And itās all yours, dear readers, to celebrate. You are the icing on the cake. The good part.
Without you, the Sun Day wouldnāt be the same or look the same. Or just be, for that matter, because without readers, a newspaper is not like a tree falling in the woods; it will not still make a sound if no oneās around to hear it.
On the shelf above my computer is my personal Sun Day archive where one copy of each edition is stacked. Itās a rather ghastly tower of gray fading to smoky yellow, but the print is still black and white and re[a]d all over (as the old joke goes). The stack measures about ten-inches high, which seems small, but because itās your stories that give it that height, itās huge. Thank you for sharing and allowing us to tell you stories. And for making us big!
Additional thanks are in order, of course, and going back to the hourglass metaphor from above, every newspaper needs a shell to keep the flow of information granules moving. The Sun Dayās shell is made up of its advertisers. They keep the paper contained. Without them, well, the Sun Day would have been gone in no time at all. Iāve thanked Sun Day advertisers for every milestone, but to keep a state of fairness, I never singled one out over the other, and I have no intention of starting that now, because the Sun Day treats all its advertisers equally. However, after 100 editions, I do feel it necessary to highlight the one advertiser who has been in every single edition since day one. We have a stock group of loyal advertisers who have been with us since early on and are very regular, which we are most grateful for, but only one has never been absent from one edition: Huntley Realty.
Thank you, Tom Hall, and your team, for all your support.
So if you, Sun Day reader, comprise the information and the advertisers are the shell, that only leaves the hand that turns the hourglass: Sun Day staff and contributors.
The Sun Day might publish biweekly, but its staff and contributors work daily to keep things moving. Each edition is comprised of literally thousands of elements that all need to fit together into one cohesive package, otherwise the whole system collapses. But more than making everything jibe, Sun Day staff and contributors make each edition new. Like aging, a hundred editions can get a little old, but Sun Day staff and contributors keep the paper young and its heart free of congestion, so to speak.
Where am I at in this hourglass? Iām simply amazed. Iām grateful. I watch it turn again and again.
Thank you, everyone, for making this our finest hour
