The Last Newsie
A lot of things have changed in Battle Creek over the last 50 or so years; downtown theaters and department stores, Eaton and Clark Equipment, and tours of Post just to name a few. For most of us these changes happen gradually enough so that they go by without much notice. It is only in moments of nostalgia that we contemplate the magnitude of their loss and are saddened. But if on returning to Battle Creek on a Sunday morning, after years of absence, and in passing the corner of Van Buren and Capital, you might come to believe that the touchstones of your past were still in place in old Battle Creek.
There in front of St. Philips Catholic Church would be a tradition going back at least a half a century. On the sidewalk, arrayed on pallets would be the Sunday editions of newspapers from around the state and the country. Bundled against the weather would be the current “Newsie” of his generation hawking papers to parishioners leaving mass or through the passenger window of cars pulling up to the curb. Only on closer examination might you see that this tradition is itself becoming worn and threadbare. There are far fewer pallets then in the past because there are far fewer papers and customers. The selection has slimed due to changing tastes, the demise of once old stalwarts newspapers and the consolidation of others (Detroit News/Free Press Sunday edition only), and the present day realities of a digital world.
Today, the “spot” at Van Buren and Capital belongs to Bob Reichel. He’s been there for almost 19 years. He inherited the spot from his uncles Mark, John, Jeff, and Jim Kolanowski, keeping the business in the family some 35 years. Before that, Bob recalls, the spot belonged to the Smiths and before them the Baumans for a total of some 50 years and likely more before that that Bob didn't know of. When Bob took over from his uncle Mark he was selling about 300 papers on a Sunday, but today he sells between half and two-thirds of that with the weather being the biggest determining factor. If it’s raining or snowing, customers enjoy the convenience of getting their paper curb side through the window of their car. It is in these moments that a connection occurs that cannot be duplicated on even the highest resolution or 3D screen.
Such exchanges never occur without, as a minimum, a smile and an inquiry as to your well-being on this fine Sunday morning. In watching him work, the observer soon realizes that in addition to selling newspapers, Bob serves as a touchstone for the wider community. The greater exchange is not the paper, money, and change, but rather a catching up on the news of mutual friends and acquaintances, the passing of a joke or, more often than not the current fair of sports teams of all levels and play. The customer walks away with more than just a paper tucked under his or her arm. More likely they leave after having heard news of some long-ago teammate, or having gotten the off season trade run downs the Tigers might be considering, or having shared what might be their warmest conversation with another human for the rest of the day.
The “Last newsstand” is a vestige of what many of us have known as community. It can be said that the digital world is all about community as well. It is true that today one can remain in their home and have a greater access to information and contact with the wider world than that of the most powerful and connected of us as recently as 20 years ago. As we progress into this new world of information and convenience we will have to make choices about what is to endure in our physical world and what can, and should, be discarded. Sometimes these choices are made for us and things just pass-away without our noticing. Traditions in the past often formed out of things that were a necessity. Today, if we want to retain a tradition, we must often do so consciously and with deliberation. We have to ask ourselves if a couple of extra steps are a fair price to pay to retain that which is evocative of the feelings of attachment to place and community that they engender.
This reporter didn’t grow up and go to school in Battle Creek, but if I had, I’d like to think that this is one tradition I’d want to see preserved.




















