Thank you and farewell

Next week’s issue of The Hartwell Sun will be the last in which my name is listed as publisher/editor.

My wife and I have decided to return closer to home, a little south of Raleigh, North Carolina, for personal reasons. There are a variety of family/friend situations — some good, some bad — that require a more local presence out of us. And as my supervisor, chairman of CNI Newspapers Alan NeSmith, so graciously understood, “family comes first.”

It is with many emotions I tell you this, but eminently among them, gratefulness. This town was so welcoming to Emma and me from the start. I do not imagine, wherever our life takes us, that we will find another place like Hartwell — where the sense of community is so strong, where class snobbiness and self-aggrandizement is so seldom.

Among other things, I will miss the downtown area, the Rotary of Hartwell, random encounters with friends and acquaintances, and summers at the lake. Most of all, I will miss this special opportunity to lead one of the oldest and most treasured businesses in town.

This newspaper attracts special people, and I’m not talking about myself.

I could spend 1,000 words writing columns of affection for each member of this team: Benjamin London, Josh Brannen, Dawson Baker, Susan Culver, Vickie Baskins, Rachel Grosse, Melissa Frankum, LaDonna Harris, Bill Powell and Randy Taylor. But there isn’t enough space in this newspaper.

Just know with a staff like that, this paper is left in great hands. A lot — a lot — goes into making, selling and distributing a newspaper each week, and each member of the team offers invaluable expertise with their contributions.

Much of my column writing here centered around sports anecdotes, so I will conclude the way that I know best by, as they say, sticking to sports.   

It was 2005. I had just turned 13 and was staying at the Westin hotel in Pittsburgh ahead of a Cubs-Pirates day game.

Dad knew that’s where my beloved Cubs stayed on Pittsburgh road trips, so semi-annually (or so) he would book our stay there and make the six-hour drive from Richmond. From there, I would meet my childhood heroes in the lobby and ask for the autographs before or after games.

I’ll always be grateful for that, Dad.

Coincidentally that weekend, College Gameday, my favorite TV program then, and still to this day, was also in town for Notre Dame vs. Pitt in week 1. And the show “talent” was also staying at the Westin.

So while I was waiting for Sammy Sosa, Kerry Wood and others to pop out of their rooms, I spotted another childhood hero, Lee Corso, outside the doors to the main entrance of the lobby.

When I popped out to say “hi” to America’s Grandpa, he was deep in conversation with a bellhop about the University of Minnesota’s impressive running back corps of Lawrence Maroney and Marion Barber (both future NFL starters).

Why was he randomly talking to a stranger in Pittsburgh about Minnesota’s backfield? Because that’s who Lee Corso is.

I waited my turn to butt in and approach him. I was dressed in Cubs gear ready for the game; he looked me up and down and jokingly asked, “You’re not a Cubs fan, are you?” He went on to sign my pad: “Lee Corso; Go Cubbies.”

I’ll never forget any of that, just like I’ll never forget the Hart community.

This town and county is just like Coach Corso, embracing with open arms one visiting stranger: my predecessor Michael Hall (the bellhop), and another visiting stranger: myself in both examples.

I have no doubt that within minutes after my interaction with him, Coach had another engaging conversation with someone he barely knew — making them feel welcome in his space. And I have no doubt this community will show the same grace and welcoming to my replacement that it showed me.

Thanks for everything.

dhunt@thehartwellsun.com