Weekend Column: The Lure of Local News

By Andrea Sachs

At 15 years old, I had a monumental thing happen to me. (No, not that.) I won a writing prize in Detroit and The Oak Park News put the story on the front page, along with my photo!  It is impossible for me to convey the level of fame that bestowed upon me in my junior high school. The Oak Park News was the paper of record in our little suburb (population 36,000), and its news judgment was unquestioned, at least by me.

I sometimes think of that article when I’m writing about our neighborhood for West Side Rag. Late in the day, I’ve discovered the joy of local news.

My career as a journalist took place somewhere else. I spent 30 years as a reporter at Time magazine, which prided itself on covering the nation, nay, the planet. My colleagues and I had no doubt that we occupied the best perch imaginable to see the world, and in some ways we did. Where else besides 1271 Sixth Avenue could I have seen Yoko Ono leaving the ladies room, or Bono striding down the hall?  During 2012 campaign season, I was at work and presidential candidate Herman Cain (remember his 9-9-9 tax plan?) came racing into my office in a blind panic, because he was lost in the maze of the Time-Life Building.

Of course, not everyone shared our inflated view of the publication. As part of my job as the publishing reporter at Time, I got to go to some pretty swanky events. Years ago, I went to a publishing party at the Pierre for a who-can-remember-the-name author. Who could forget, though, that Lauren Bacall was there. My memory on that point is sharp; she snubbed me when I had the audacity to introduce myself as a Time reporter. At that point, she lived in the Dakota, and I told her that I lived next door. She made it clear that I should not come over for the proverbial neighborly cup of sugar, by walking away without a word. The temerity! The naivete!

I could give you some 10,000-miles-in-the-sky blather about the importance of local news and how it’s critical to a functioning democracy. While that happens to be true, local news at its best is also news you can use. If you want to know the secrets of your neighborhood, like finding a public restroom in a pinch, or figuring out why your favorite store has disappeared, you’re not going to find that in a national publication. Local media, in Bob Dylan’s words, is invaluable for “all the latest gossip, all the latest rhyme.”

There’s no question that the local press is in trouble. As The Atlantic magazine put it a few years ago, “Local news is in the midst of a long financial crisis, as newsrooms are hit with layoffs, page counts shrink, and entire papers go belly-up.” Of course, I would urge the citizenry to support it before it disappears.

But the dirty little secret from an ink-stained wretch is that it’s great fun writing about things and people you know something about. And more fun having your neighbors and friends actually read your articles.

A few weeks ago, I ran into Baba, the manager of Gartner’s Hardware on West 72nd  Street, whom I had gotten to know writing the first Upper West Sider of the Month column. His clear pleasure in having been covered by the Rag was beyond gratifying. It reminded me yet again why I love being a journalist.

Too bad that I didn’t meet Lauren Bacall as a reporter for West Side Rag.

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