Local newspapers were very different in the early 19th century. They were certainly not “reader-friendly.” There were no illustrations. Production quality was poor; often with ink smears. The print size was very small.
And, the content was hardly local. The papers were generally compilations of regional and national papers covering national and international stories. The articles were either reprinted word for word or were rewritten by the editor. As a result, a reader living in Miami Township was usually more knowledgeable about the events of the Napoleonic Wars in Europe than what was going on in Batavia or Felicity.
Family news-births, marriages and deaths-soon began appearing in the locals. These one-paragraph, tersely written announcements were typically tucked inside near the advertisements. Prominent families, of course, received expansive, front-page coverage.
Crime stories, the more sensational the better, became a staple of the locals. There was no more sensational story than the lynching of George Mangrum, a white, Kentucky farmer. Mangrum raped and murdered a young New Richmond woman who he had hired to work for him. A second woman, also hired by Mangrum, incredibly survived a similarly heinous attack. She went back to the bar where she had met Mangrum and pointed him out while “the fiend” was seducing yet another woman. Mangrum was taken to jail, but a large, angry mob broke him out. He was taken outside of town and hanged. The Kentuckian was buried in an unmarked grave.
The New Richmond Independent newspaper captured the spirit of the times when it wrote in its July 10, 1876, edition: “… the mob deserves the thanks of the community.”
Clermonters loved sports. Papers obliged that interest by giving full, front-page coverage to corn husking and fox hunting events. But baseball was king. By the turn of the 20th century, the county had formed a community baseball league. Each village took great pride in its team. The papers featured play-by-play coverage and, at times, included a box score.
Goshen was usually considered to be the favored team because of its star pitcher, Sam Leever. His patented curveball took him to the major leagues for a twelve-year career with the Pittsburgh Pirates. He pitched in the first World Series in 1903. His lifetime stats were Hall of Fame worthy: ERA-2.47, winning percentage-660, complete games-241 and strike outs-847.
(Rick Rhodes, any way we can get this guy into the HOF?)
The papers took a full turn towards “local” when they began to include “the goings on” in the neighborhoods, submitted by amateur journalists. Several examples from 1883 editions of The Clermont Sun and The Clermont Courier follow:
May-Ten Mile Valley. “Joseph Nagal skipped out last Friday morning with a new pair of pants and seven dollars which happened to be in the pant’s pockets…”
September-Chilo. “River immense. We receive mail sometimes once a week. Everybody crying for rain. Never mind, there is going to be a flood some of these times. We heard a boat whistle the other day. Baseball fever is raging.”
December-Afton. “Harry Moyer and Wilbur Lukemire captured and killed two monster coons last Saturday, one weighing twenty pounds. Enoch Waits visited friends in Milford recently.
John Hardin and his wife passed through town Friday. (More of these snippets can be found in Gary Knepp’s book, “Musings.”)
Hundreds of local newspapers have disappeared over the last decade or so. Their demise will make it more difficult for future researchers to answer the perennial question: “What was it like to live then?” And that is unfortunate.