California's oldest weekly newspaper saved by local man with Citizen Kane complex

Coyoteville Cafe, just south of Downieville, July 2018
(c) Lisa R. Pruitt 

The New York Times reported this week on the sale of Sierra County, California's weekly newspaper, the Mountain Messenger by one county elder, 67-year-old Don Russell, to another, 71-year-old Carl Butz.  It's an uplifting story well worth a read, not least because closure of local media outlets is becoming a huge problem throughout the nation.  But the Mountain Mess, as it is affectionately known locally, isn't just any local newspaper brought back from the brink of death.  It's the oldest weekly newspaper in the United States, dating to 1853 when Downieville was a contender to become capital of California.  Equally as extraordinary is that Mark Twain once wrote for the paper breifly, though Twain is perhaps more famously associated with Calaveras County, about a hundred miles south of Downieville as the crow flies, on state highway 49--yes, named for the gold rush era.

The Messenger is based in Downieville, population 282, the county seat of one of the Golden State's least populous counties, just 3,240 residents spread across a sliver of a county stretching from the foothills of the Sierra-Nevada Mountains across the range to the Nevada state line.  It's also home to the Downieville Downhill, a cycling race; when I passed through the town a few summers ago, several vans hauling bikes and riders were crowding the town's little public parking lot.

Below is an excerpt from Tim Arango's story for the NYT, the set up being that Russell was retiring, prepared to shut down the paper, before Butz emerged as a last-minute buyer:

[O]ne night Mr. Butz was watching “Citizen Kane” on cable and thought, I can do that. He made the deal quickly, paying a price in the “four figures,” he said, plus the assumption of some debts, without even looking at the books. 

Still, Mr. Russell, an old friend of Mr. Butz’s, was a reluctant seller. “His position was, it’s a losing proposition and someone who’d want it would be crazy,” Mr. Butz said. “He called me a romantic idealist and a nut case. And that’s not a paraphrase, but a direct quote.”

Arango quotes Liz Fisher, who previously edited the Messenger and now runs The Sierra County Prospect, an online news site.

Thank God for Carl, he stepped in It was devastating for everybody that we were going to lose The Mountain Messenger.

Sierra County Courthouse, Downieville
(c) Lisa R. Pruitt 2018

While this New York Times story has garnered a lot of attention on my Twitter feed since it was published on Monday, it's only fair to note that the Los Angeles Times was all over this story a month ago.  Diana Marcum wrote under the headline, "Whether good news or bad, northern Sierra readers can always blame the Messenger."  Her focus was more on Russell than his successor--who as of her writing had not emerged.  As with Arango's story, Marcum's is partly a tale about the lack of anonymity that marks rural places and shapes relationships there.  Here's an excerpt about how Russell ran the paper, specifically his reputation for telling it like it is:

Russell was never sued, commenting: “If I say it’s a fact, it’s a fact, damn it. I do my homework.” But there have been a couple of times an irked politician drove around and bought all 200 copies as damage control. 

A self-described contrarian, Russell uses every edition to help him prove that a small town’s strength is its common ground. He can call someone an idiot, disagree with their politics, question their good sense and still share a breakfast table or a drink. 

Breakfasts are busy at the Coyoteville Cafe on Fridays, when the latest “Mountain Mess” — as many here call the paper — is first out. 

(c) Lisa R. Pruitt 2017

“Good ol’ Don Russell, he’s quite the character. He’s so blunt and straightforward, but the funny thing is he’ll come in with someone on the same day he’s bad-mouthing them,” said Patrick Shannon, 38, who works in his mother’s cafe and as a handyman, EMT and the town’s water meter reader.

Both the Marcum and Arango stories are full of so much local color, from a gay county sheriff to "she who does the work," the unofficial title of Jill Tahija, the only other employee of the Messenger.  Tahija will be staying on under Butz's regime.

One of Downieville's lodging options, next to the one-lane bridge on Hwy 49
(c) Lisa R. Pruitt 2018

I especially love this turn of phrase from Marcum's story, "In a decidedly blue state, this region is as red as a painted barn." But does it really matter, I find myself thinking, when so much (if not all) politics is local?

One change being made with Butz's takeover of the Messenger is a digital presence, which Russell has strictly rejected.  Happy to say that I followed the Messenger on Twitter last night @TheMountainMess, and they just followed me back today.  I also see that the New York Times story is generating lots of press from statewide outlets, including radio.

The Sierra County newspaper is not the only local enterprise recently looking for a new owner.  When I drove through Downieville and neighboring Sierra City in 2018, I noticed lots of businesses for sale, including an inn and a gas station. 

Gas Station for Sale in Sierra City, July 2017
(c) Lisa R. Pruitt 2017

The innkeeper at the bed and breakfast where I stayed in Nevada City, an hour or so south in Nevada County, said it had been on the market for several years, with very little interest.  I don't know how long the inn I saw in Downieville had been for sale, or if it has since sold.  Certainly I'm hoping it's not out of business.

These "For Sale" signs on businesses in this remote but scenic region got me worrying about how tourism in these places will survive if folks aren't willing to run these crucial businesses.  The Pacific Coast trail cuts through Sierra City, maybe 10 miles up the road from Downieville, and while hikers don't need gasoline, the folks who run the other businesses that support tourists, along with a local resort oriented to trout fishing do.

Sierra City, California
(c) Lisa R. Pruitt 2017

Locals also occasionally need attorneys and they're in short supply in Sierra County, which as of 2016 had only eight, including just one in private practice, Ingrid Larson, who was admitted to the bar in 1973.  Read more here and here.

I'm thrilled that the Messenger has been saved, and I hope other courageous entrepreneurs like Mr. Butz will step forward to save some of Sierra County's other crucial businesses.

Sierra County's only attorney in private practice was admitted in 1973
(c) Lisa R Pruitt