Change

By Ronda Lickteig
If there’s a word that describes the life I have always wished to have, it would be “predictable.” I know, I know, some of you are already writing me off as someone you could never be friends with. I’ve always wanted to be a person who liked adventure and the surprise of the unexpected. The most adventurous thing I’ve done lately is decide I’m going to order something new every time I eat at El Nopal. Baby steps….
So I am a person who can appreciate Wendell Lenhart, a man who is about as routine-oriented as they come. Since taking over as editor in December, I’m the first person in the office every day. Wendell always comes in the back door. I hear his feet hit the steps coming up from the basement and then he runs (pretty fast for an old guy) up the stairs. The door slams. As he walks past the printer, he’ll sometimes pick up whatever I’ve printed that morning. He walks to his desk, drops whatever is in his hand (sometimes on the floor) and sits. Then I start talking.
That’s exactly how things started last Thursday – except before he even sat and before he let me start talking, he said the words that annoy me no matter who is saying them:
“I know you don’t like change…”
He paused. I glared at him. He took a breath and continued (very quickly):
“But we’ve been sold and the new owners will be here at 11:30. I’ll order pizza for lunch.”
Obviously, the pizza was just a way to distract me from the fact that my life was about to change. I texted my husband and said:
“I probably won’t be home at noon. We have a new owner and they’ll be here at 11:30.”
His response to my life-altering, earth-shattering news? “Ok.”
One by one, as employees arrived that day, he told them the news. No one freaked out, at least not visibly. And do you know why? Because the sale of this newspaper to Jamey and D’Anna Honeycutt is the best-case scenario if Wendell is not going to own us. They want what we want: a good, local newspaper and a shopper that meets the needs of our customers.
The Honeycutts believe in small towns, in small town news and in producing a quality product. I don’t think I’d be wrong to say that Wendell might be sleeping better at night knowing he is passing this paper on to someone who doesn’t want to buy it, gut it and use it as a tax write-off. Trust me, it’s happened – and it’s happened close to home.
I’ll miss Wendell, even though he’s told us he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. That’s probably true and we’ve managed to get along without him when he takes days off for his “networking opportunities” that all seem to take place on a golf course. He’s retaining ownership of the building, so hopefully he’ll still come in early and turn up the heat when there’s a polar vortex. He’ll be available by phone when I need to know things like “is cement a component of concrete or is concrete a component of cement?” I could Google it, I suppose….
I’m not going to go on and on about Wendell and how he gave me a chance here when I had zero newspaper experience. Or about how he and Trish have been my friends through the many crazy times I’ve had in my life over the past 29 years. I think the fact that I’ve been here 29 years (and some of my co-workers even longer) speaks for itself. Besides, I have to save my sucking up for the new owners.
What I will say is that I feel fortunate to have worked at this paper under Wendell’s ownership and I trust his judgment in having decided to sell to the Honeycutts. I truly believe this is a change that will prove to be a good one.
Oh, and in response to all those texts that asked if I still have a job – the answer so far is yes. If they threaten to fire me, I’ll tell them what I’ve told Wendell 100 times when the subject came up: “Go ahead, make my day…”