After the Deadline: Back to the Newsroom

Has it been 18 years already?

“It’s your community, it’s your news.”

That was the tagline I wrote in August 2010 when I purchased the newspaper from a friend. It still resonates today.

The Pioneer Review began under Andrea Moore after she was laid off from the former Colusa Sun-Herald. She launched the paper solo, covering events, sharing favorite recipes and highlighting community voices. It was ambitious. It was personal. It was local.

At the time, I was running Lloyd’s Print and Copy. After a few months, Andrea approached me about helping with advertising design and layout. One thing led to another. When her husband was transferred out of state and the paper faced possible closure, I bought it.

“You are crazy,” my parents said. My mother was certain I had lost my mind. “Why do you want to own a newspaper?”

I did not have a polished answer. I just knew I loved informing the community. With another local publication slowly declining, I felt compelled to try.

For years, I ran the paper largely on my own. I covered events, sold ads, designed pages and delivered newspapers long into the night. Eventually we went weekly and earned adjudication as a Newspaper of General Circulation on Sept. 19, 2017. For a time, we had a full staff and momentum.

Then came the pandemic.

Readership grew. Advertising did not. A dollar per copy was not enough to sustain payroll, printing and overhead. We explored every avenue, including nonprofit status. I sat in meetings that felt less like partnerships and more like auctions.

One conversation changed everything.

I was offered a substantial sum of money, with conditions. Stop writing about certain topics. Grant final approval before publication. The paper could survive financially, but not ethically.

I walked away from that meeting, returned to my office and posted a “for sale” notice on LinkedIn.

I was exhausted. Years of headlines, deadlines and deliveries had taken their toll. Two or three hours of sleep was not uncommon. The criticism echoed louder than the praise.

Then came a phone call.

“There’s a man on the line who wants to buy the paper. He saw your LinkedIn post.”

That was Paul Scholl.

Within weeks, we reached an agreement. He would purchase the Pioneer Review. I would move on to screen printing and embroidery, convinced it was time for a different chapter.

For a while, I believed that.

In July 2025, after a conversation at home and more than a little reflection, I reached back out. My partner had observed that I spoke about my newspaper days with more energy than anything else. He was right. Therapy confirmed what I already knew.

This is what I am meant to do. Write.

I returned as a contractor, then began exploring full-time opportunities. On the night during Christmas Tyme, I received the offer. I accepted.

Nothing compares to sitting in the newsroom, a blank page glowing in front of you, the cursor blinking. A new chapter waiting to be written.

For eighteen years this publication has informed the community. I may no longer own the business, but I take pride in the work. Some decisions are beyond my control. The commitment to honest reporting is not.

Strong local journalism requires strong local support. Advertising is not charity. It is partnership. When businesses invest in these pages, they invest in accountability, in shared history and in a record that endures.

We attend the meetings so you can attend your children’s recitals. We read the agendas so you do not have to. We ask questions that may otherwise go unasked.

My fear is not inconvenience. It is disappearance. When newspapers fade, governments go unchecked and history goes unrecorded.

They say what is online stays online. I would like to locate my old MySpace account or the website I built in high school. What I can find, preserved at the local library, is the story I wrote decades ago. Ink endures.

I am grateful for the last eighteen years. For the supporters, the critics and everyone in between. This work has never been about me. It has always been about the community.

I’m glad to be back.

I can be reached at the Colusa office, 430 Market St., Suite E, Monday through Friday, 10 a.m. to 3 p.m., email lloyd.green@mpg8.com, call (530) 458-4141 or text (530) 813-5218.