Before I ever started the ETX Bell, I spent time sitting down with leaders across our communities, pastors, business owners, city officials, educators, and longtime residents, asking a simple but uncomfortable question.
Does starting a local newspaper in this area, in 2025, actually make sense?
I had read the data. I had heard the studies. I understood, at least intellectually, how local newspapers can directly impact voter turnout, civic engagement, public accountability, and even economic stability. But before launching the Bell, I don’t think I truly understood what that looked like in motion.
Working out of a news desert has been extremely difficult.
Building trust takes time. Changing perceptions takes even longer. Many people had grown accustomed to the idea that posting something on social media was enough, that visibility automatically translated into engagement, sales, or attendance at a church event or community gathering.
Building new relationships while trying to maintain old ones and showing up consistently to important events across multiple communities with limited staff was often impossible. We did our best. What became clear early on is that running a community newspaper we couldn’t do it alone. We have started to build a small but growing volunteer staff. But we also need you. We hope in 2026 that you will send us information, submit articles, and help get the word out about what matters locally.
Early in the year, we asked the question out loud on our own front page, Am I crazy for starting a newspaper in 2025? It was not a gimmick. It was a genuine question. We wanted to be honest about the environment we were stepping into and honest with readers about the challenges ahead.
That article laid out what happens when local news disappears, not in theory, but in lived experience. Fewer people are paying attention. Fewer shared facts. Fewer places where communities see themselves reflected accurately. As the year unfolded, we began to see those dynamics firsthand.
Even so, we believe we are on the right path.
Over the course of 2025, we built a core group of local advertisers who believed in the mission early, and we are deeply grateful for that partnership. We also continued to grow our subscription base, one reader at a time.
One thing became clear very quickly. It was never going to be enough to simply bring back a traditional newspaper.
We knew the paper had to come first. It gave us credibility. It connected us more deeply with the community. It helped us begin building the relationships this work depends on. At the same time, we knew from the beginning that print alone could not carry the full weight of what modern communities need.
That said, our hope has always been, and remains, to continue building toward the weekly print newspaper we originally set out to create.
As we move into 2026, we are preparing to build on the foundation laid in our first year with deeper integration into social platforms, digital services, podcasts, and more community-driven content. Our goal is not to chase attention, but to create tools and coverage that genuinely benefit residents and local businesses.
We are still printing a monthly print edition, and we are now publishing a near-weekly digital edition. As we become financially able, we plan to continue growing both.
We hope you will help us continue this mission. Subscribe to the paper. Follow and share our social media pages. Partner with us through advertising. Talk about the stories you see here.
As we grow, we know we have made missteps, and we will continue to make some along the way. What matters is that we remain committed to learning, listening, and working alongside the community to cover more ground, tell better stories, and highlight what truly makes these towns special.
With that in mind, here is a look back at our first year.
Looking Back at 2025
May – Founder’s Edition: Starting Something New
The Founder’s Edition was never meant to be perfect. It was meant to get its start.
The Troup Chamber of Commerce Business Expo and Awards Dinner, Spring Fling in Bullard, and early coverage of Whitehouse’s plans for Shahan Park weren’t filler. They were a signal. This paper was going to focus on people showing up, building things, planning things, and investing in their towns, even when progress was slow, and even when it didn’t feel newsworthy to anyone outside the area.
Looking back, that first issue set the tone more clearly than we realized at the time.
Late May – Graduation Edition: The Reality of Civic Life
By the end of May, the reporting got heavier.
Covering the May elections meant looking at a hard truth. Out of tens of thousands of registered voters in Smith County, only a small fraction participated. Writing that story took restraint. It would have been easy to scold. It would have been even easier to turn it into a dramatic headline. Instead, we tried to do what local journalism is supposed to do, explain why it matters, and why those numbers aren’t just numbers.
What stuck with me is that those election results ran on the same front page as stories about the Troup Women’s Civic Organization awarding scholarships and transitioning leadership. That contrast stayed with me. Civic participation may rise and fall, but civic service stays steady. Volunteers still show up. Teachers still teach. Boards still meet. The work continues whether people are watching or not.
June – Summer Edition: Progress You Can Measure and Progress You Can Feel
June reminded us progress comes in different forms.
On one end was the Smith County Courthouse renovation, a project measured in concrete, timelines, and budgets. On the other was Rink Ratz in Troup, a skating rink reopened because somebody remembered what it felt like to have a place to belong.
Both stories mattered. One preserved history. The other created memories.
That same edition included a reflective piece about what happens when a community loses its newspaper. At the time, it felt a little risky to put that question on the page. Now it feels necessary. Local news is not just about information. It’s about accountability, identity, and continuity.
July Back to School: Getting back to school & late 4th of July coverage.
Summer editions didn’t come with grand announcements. They came with consistency.
Fireworks celebrations, youth sports, school board reorganizations, farms, small businesses, and community events filled the front pages. We began stitching towns together more intentionally, showing Bullard, Whitehouse, Troup, Flint, Frankston, and eventually Arp as part of the same regional story.
That shift was subtle, but it mattered. The paper started feeling less like isolated towns and more like a shared space.
September: Growth and Responsibility
Early fall marked a milestone we were proud of, expanding coverage into Arp.
The story that went with that expansion was fitting, the start of a long-awaited water system replacement project. Years of planning, aging infrastructure, and patient residents were finally moving toward something better. These projects rarely make regional headlines, but they shape daily life, and they deserve to be covered.
Public safety coverage also deepened. Grants for license plate reader cameras, K9 competitions, and officer recognition stories weren’t written like abstract policy wins. They were about preparedness, training, and trust.
Back-to-school coverage brought a lighter moment too, six area schools starting football season undefeated. Sometimes a front page just needs good news.
October: Decisions and Traditions
October felt full.
School bond elections required careful explanation. These weren’t simple yes or no questions. We took the responsibility seriously to explain what each proposition meant, where the money would go, and what approval or rejection could bring.
At the same time, the paper leaned into tradition. Holiday in the Country in Troup, homecoming courts, and the story of a handcrafted American flag traveling from Whitehouse to the White House reminded us that local stories can carry farther than people think.
One moment that stayed with me was covering Randi Mahomes speaking to students in Troup. It wasn’t about celebrity. It was about roots, humility, and the quiet pride of returning home.
First Responders: Stories That Stay With You
The First Responders editions were some of the hardest, and most meaningful, stories to work on.
These were not stories you rush. Officers visiting classrooms, dispatchers saving lives, students hosting luncheons to say thank you, these moments needed care. They reminded us that service is often quiet, repetitive, and deeply human.
National Night Out reinforced that idea. Public safety works best when it’s relational, visible, and grounded in trust.
November: Weight and Gratitude
As Thanksgiving approached, the tone shifted again.
Veterans coverage carried weight. Those stories asked readers to slow down and remember service that can’t be fully repaid.
Election results followed, mixed, thoughtful, and reflective of a community willing to invest carefully. Some measures passed, others did not. The results told a story of discernment, not apathy.
One of the most moving front-page stories of the year was the introduction of the Bridges Center in Bullard. Writing about the hours between school and bedtime, and the need for mentorship and belonging, felt personal because it is personal. A lot of families recognize that gap. Seeing a community step into it with intention mattered.
December: Ending With Care
The final front pages of 2025 were about care.
Project Joy coverage showed what happens when schools, city staff, churches, and businesses align around a shared purpose. Numbers mattered, how many families, how many children, how much food, but the heart of the story was coordination and compassion.
Holiday events, chamber updates, and quiet reflections closed out the paper’s first full calendar year. There wasn’t one headline that defined December. Instead, there was a steadiness to it.
Looking Ahead to 2026
As we turn the page to 2026, I want to say this as clearly as I can. What we built in 2025 was a foundation, not a finish line.
We’re proud of what we started, but we also know this can’t just be a traditional newspaper and nothing else. Print has to stay strong, and our goal is still to grow into the weekly print paper we’ve talked about from the beginning. At the same time, we’re preparing to expand into more digital coverage, more community storytelling, and new projects like podcasts and events that highlight local voices and local leadership.
To do that well, and to do it in a way that lasts, it takes more than ideas. It takes resources.
A locally owned newspaper depends on investment in reporting, production, technology, distribution, and the systems that allow coverage to stay consistent across multiple towns. The next phase doesn’t happen without broader community partnership.
There are a lot of ways people can be part of what comes next.
Some will advertise, helping fund local coverage while supporting their own business. Others will subscribe, strengthening the base that keeps this going month after month. Some will contribute financially to help build long-term sustainability. Others will participate more directly by writing, submitting content, being a guest on a podcast, helping us get the word out, or simply telling someone else the ETX Bell exists.
This isn’t about keeping something alive.
It’s about building something stronger.
We’re grateful for the support that made our first year possible. We’re excited about what can be built with deeper community involvement. If you believe local stories matter, and you want to help shape what this becomes, 2026 is the time to step in.
Thank you for reading, thank you for supporting, and thank you for being part of what’s next.
