When Hiram Lupton arrives at the annual school spelling bee in Pamlico County, the kids begin whispering that a local celebrity has arrived. Everybody knows Hiram. He’s the sole staff writer and photographer for The Pamlico News in Oriental.
“You can hear them say, ‘The newspaper guy is here,’” Lupton says, laughing.
Local journalism is the glue that binds a community. It can stoke debate while transcending political and cultural divisions: Which inter-county rival won the high school softball game? What’s the city council up to? And did Russ ever find the fox that ate his chickens?
Scrappy and resilient, community weeklies across North Carolina — like The Pamlico News, Randolph Hub, and The Paper in Burke County — are devoted to serving their readers in defiance of national trends. Since 2005, the United States has lost more than a fourth of its newspapers — 2,500, according to the Local News Initiative, based at Northwestern University. Six counties in North Carolina have no newspaper at all. And many other papers are being purchased by conglomerates or hedge funds with no connections to their communities.
While many papers offer a digital subscription, their core readers want their news in print. They treasure the ritual of unfolding the paper and spreading it on the breakfast table. They want to see photos of their children and grandchildren spiking a volleyball or accepting a diploma. They want to clip out stories and paste them in scrapbooks, their fingertips stained with ink.
Launched in 1968, The Pamlico County News, as it was known then, has served coastal communities for more than half a century. In 1977, it was purchased by Henry and Nancy Winfrey. Their home on Broad Street in Oriental became the paper’s office.
Several of the couple’s children went on to work at the paper, including daughter Frieda, who served as editor for about 10 years. Now, a son, Sandy Winfrey, the last surviving member of the immediate family, is editor and publisher. His hands have been callused not by the tap-tap-tap of a keyboard but by 40 years of building houses.
Sandy could have sold the paper but chose not to. “My dad was so proud of it,” he says. “It’s a service to the community.”
His wife, Katherine, has another word for it. “We’re a dinosaur,” she jokes. Katherine is the office manager of The Pamlico News, which publishes weekly. She’s encouraging a new generation of readers to understand the importance of local news. “I tell teachers, ‘You need to give every student a newspaper so they can read it and feel it.’”
From left: Joe Miller, Jeannine Russo, Neal McCraw (standing in back), Sandy Winfrey, Katherine Winfrey, and Hiram Lupton cover Pamlico County. photograph by Baxter Miller
Joe Miller, who has lived in half a dozen major cities, landed in Pamlico County and designs the paper. Delivery driver Neal McCraw services the paper boxes and the post office. His beat-up, late-’90s GMC Jimmy that he used to make his rounds is now for sale for a mere $500. (He recently upgraded to a Chevy Blazer.)
Originally from Long Island in New York, Jeannine Russo has worked at The Pamlico News for 16 years. The staff calls her the “heartbeat” of the paper because of her many roles: bookkeeper, ad and circulation manager, and office manager.
“No two days are the same,” she says. “That’s why I like it so much.”
The phone rings. Russo answers.
“I’d like to give you some money,” says the caller, who is renewing his subscription.
Those calls are common, as the community relies on The Pamlico News for their information.
“We take what we put in the paper very seriously,” Russo says.
“I tell teachers, ‘You need to give every student a newspaper so they can read it and feel it.’”
Hiram Lupton keeps track of the goings-on in nine towns spread over 336 square miles of the county. One day he’s covering the Pamlico County High School wrestling team; the next, he’s attending a contentious Oriental town board meeting; and the day after that, a rabies vaccination clinic in Bayboro. Readers have thanked him for evenly covering the issues that are important to the community, Lupton adds. “They’ll say, ‘I appreciate that article. I understand the issue better.’”
The phone rings. A man named Daniel wants to drop off a photo of his daughter, who is graduating from high school. He arrives just minutes later. “When’s the paper coming out?” He asks.
“Wednesday,” Katherine Winfrey replies.
Every Wednesday, without fail.
“This little paper is determined to survive,” she says.
For more information, visit thepamliconews.com.
In Morganton, if you want to know why one downtown restaurant is suing the city, another violated fire codes, and a third is shorthanded after several staff walked off the job, Allen VanNoppen, publisher of The Paper, will ensure you get the facts.
When VanNoppen and Bill Poteat began meeting with Burke County business leaders about two years ago, the duo had no staff, no office, no one to print the paper. All they had was a logo, a hat emblazoned with that logo, their credentials, and a vision.
“You know, looking back, that’s probably as insane as saying, ‘We’re going to come out with a printed community newspaper,’” VanNoppen says. “But what we heard from all corners was, ‘It’s badly needed.’ And in my heart, I knew it was the right thing to do.”
From left: Bill Poteat, Editor Angela Copeland, and Allen VanNoppen bring the week’s news to subscribers throughout Burke County and beyond. photograph by Revival Creatives
Since then VanNoppen, the publisher, and Poteat, the editor emeritus — both old-school journalists — have assembled an experienced staff that includes advertising reps, circulation staff, and reporters, all of whom fan out to reach the heart of Burke County: Morganton, Valdese, Glen Alpine, Drexel, Rutherford College.
Print is dead? Publications like The Paper in Burke County that showcase high-quality community journalism are proving otherwise. photograph by Revival Creatives
The Paper covers the requisite government meetings, and unflinchingly tackles controversial issues, such as the Confederate monument on the courthouse square, homelessness, and drug abuse — in addition to community newspaper staples, such as profiles of prominent people and family businesses, tax revenue trends, and education news.
“We have strived from day one to be a community builder through accurate, responsible, and thorough coverage,” VanNoppen says. “To spur conversation, to spur debate.”
After less than a year in business, The Paper was named by the trade magazine Editor & Publisher one of News Media’s 10 to Watch for its innovations in publishing local news, and this year, the staff brought home 17 awards from the NC Press Association.
The Burke County courthouse is on The Paper’s beat. photograph by Revival Creatives
“Every Friday night, the circulation team begins delivering The Paper to subscribers,” VanNoppen says. “The next morning, all over Burke County, readers wander outside in their bathrobes or sweatpants, coffee mug in hand, and grab their newspaper.
“When people don’t get their paper, we hear about it, which to me is the sound of music. That’s telling me they miss it,” VanNoppen says. “So I say ‘I’m very sorry,’ and we rush one out in the next 10 minutes. But it’s good news from a publishing perspective.”
For more information, visit thepaper.media.
You don’t have to be famous to appear in the Randolph Hub. You don’t have to run for office, get caught speeding, or die — although that could make the paper, too.
“Everybody has a story,” says Ray Criscoe, editor and founder of the Randolph Hub, based in Asheboro. “You find that anytime you talk to someone, you come up with a great story. And nobody would ever know about it because, most of the time, they’re not well-known at all.”
A veteran editor and sportswriter, Criscoe retired from The Courier-Tribune in Asheboro in 2020, disillusioned with the future of local newspapers.
But soon, he felt restless.
“It’s a noble profession. It’s in your blood,” Criscoe says of the craft of journalism. “I thought about it, and eventually, I just said, ‘I’m going to do it.’”
From a downtown office in a historic house that includes the Brightside Gallery and Carriage House Tea, Criscoe launched the Randolph Hub.
Based in downtown Asheboro, Randolph Hub editor and publisher Ray Criscoe delivers community news to subscribers every week. photograph by Jerry Wolford & Scott Muthersbaugh
First, he mailed a survey to 1,800 people asking them what kinds of stories they wanted to read. About 500 people responded: Articles about local businesses. Feature stories. Pieces about their neighbors.
“It’s the things that the newspaper industry got away from,” Criscoe says. “And by doing that, they’re leaving behind an entire group of people who want something to tell them what’s going on in the community.”
No national news. No state news. Just local news, covered by a handful of fellow former journalists for a county of 146,000 residents.
Randolph Hub photograph by Jerry Wolford & Scott Muthersbaugh
The Hub’s stories cover all the bases: Why residents’ water bills are going up. How the old Randolph Savings and Loan building became a historic landmark. When the Toyota megasite northwest of Liberty will begin making batteries for electric vehicles.
“It’s down-home stuff happening here in this community,” Criscoe says. “It’s public information that people want.”
His approach resonates with readers. “They’re just so appreciative,” Criscoe says. “I’ve just been amazed.”
Media researchers at Northwestern University have found that “reviving local news involves reestablishing some form of local ownership that is accountable to the community where the news outlet is located.”
That’s what The Pamlico News, The Paper, and Randolph Hub are achieving.
It’s a venture worth replicating. “If I were a rich man,” Criscoe says. “I’d do this in communities all over the state. Because I bet you there are pockets of people like that everywhere. And this is proof.”
For more information, visit randolphhub.com.
Every September, Gorges State Park celebrates the monarch butterfly — and the awe and wonder of its annual migration — with a festival fit for a king.
From sweeping vistas to secluded coves, North Carolina’s four national forests conserve our untamed lands for wildlife and human explorers alike.
Abloom year-round, the Elizabethan Gardens feel fit for a queen. Beyond their beauty, they’re also a living memorial to one of our state’s enduring mysteries.
On his namesake show, the Mount Airy native shared the spotlight with a fictional version of his hometown.
