I check in periodically with Andy Bernhard, the publisher at The Park Record forever — 35 or so years qualifying as forever on my calendar.
He retired in the fall of 2022, another forever ago to me in the wake of Covid and my paper in California being sold twice in six months, the second freeing me for fresh ski town sojourns to Aspen and now here, where I hope to settle.
He was my picture of the perfect publisher after I’d unexpectedly found myself in that position another forever ago in Vail, a battlefield promotion during the financial meltdown when literally no one else was available and I appeared to be the closest thing to a grownup then as the longish-time editor.
I remember that suddenly I was what I swore I’d never be, a publisher.
I was in awe of the guy when I met him while embedding with the town of Vail during a week of meetings in Park City in a sweet brief return to my reporting roots. I had an audience in his office, and he asked about business numbers and such, publisher stuff, nodding sagely as I divulged in a humble-bragging way.
Truth be told, our folks on the business side of my paper were killing it then. Only operation in our company, maybe America, to be growing by double digits annually as we soared out of that crisis, mainly by breaking some rules with magazines.
‘Course, we only got there by stubbing our toes more than maybe anyone while I learned the job. I still kick myself for letting very smart people on that side of the biz do some very, very dumb things, as seen with the gift of hindsight but seemed right then. Here’s the price of going along even if your gut is barking no, no! I didn’t realize then that I did know better than basically failing to bend with a big advertiser in light of the times. Our biggest mistake in that crisis. A great lesson.
My gut didn’t bark with Andy. It still doesn’t. Not that we agree on everything, even if there is a solid thread connecting me to his perspective. Made me a better publisher then, I think, and maybe a better editor now.
All this to say, yeah, I talk to him about stuff we’re thinking about. On the way to a Jazz game, at the bar, if I catch him at a Rotary Club meeting. It’s not so much thumbs up or thumbs down, or been-there-done-that feedback. Though of course he’s not shy about that either.
We added a copy editor-plus recently, Parker Mortensen, who already is a huge help with getting the print editions out. They also are keeping us way more up to date in with brief-and-broad news postings online, where today’s competition plays out. But the main advantage in my mind is the most comprehensive community calendar possible that they’ll build out and maintain.
I mean enough for full pages in print for community events and separately, I think, for arts and entertainment. Covid killed calendars like this at little papers all over. I told Andy I wanted to bring these back, and with human hands rather than leaving it to automation and vendors, which already had weakened these calendars.
Of course I was happy my mentor agreed with that idea. But more enlightening, if that’s the right word, was his sense from decades here of this community’s likely receptiveness, and then, duh, some advertising possibilities if we can do this right that I hadn’t given sufficient thought.
My gut already said go. That and having done this before, building out calendars at previous stops. This is a simple, humble way of strengthening community.
Andy and I bonded after my company of the time bought The Park Record and then I transferred to northern California, which made me the representative of an outpost like Park City. He and I became the curmudgeons of the lead team, sometimes commiserating over what we viewed as a groupthink that sometimes took over.
Andy, well, let’s just say he knows how to say no, and I had the mostly unfortunate habit of blurting all too bluntly when I saw elephants in the room. If Andy saw one too, well, I figured I might not be imagining things.
But I caved before Covid after trumpeting my concern over sending our production work and editorial layout overseas for the promise of savings — savings Andy and I alone loudly doubted would happen.
We turned out to be correct about that. We saved almost nothing. But long before that, I finally, reluctantly joined the team at our bosses’ direction. Andy figured out how to simply not comply. There was an example I wished I had followed in California. Another gift of hindsight when I coulda-shoulda followed my gut, and Andy.
The Park Record editions remain to this day homegrown from stem to stern. The slog to full independence from all the old company’s systems is difficult and complicated enough without having to rebuild a production staff, too. Besides that, the production people were and are among the strongest anywhere for the work.
So yeah, all the rounds should be on me. Least I can do.
Don Rogers is the editor of The Park Record. He can be reached at[email protected]or (970) 376-0745.