The Star

The Hot Spring Star is a defunct newspaper. It no longer exists. That fact makes me sad, though I realize times change. The Star was an important part of my childhood. It was one of my first babysitters and taught me much about what is important in life.

What is shown in the photo is the second location of the Star building. The first was down the road a couple of blocks. The original building has Hot Springs Star etched in sandstone on the facade. I used to look for fossils in the cliffs in the back lot. My mom was always amazed when I would come in with fossils that were barely visible. I also remember climbing up one of the cliffs and getting a bee sting, which I think was the only time I've ever been stung by a bee. I remember taking naps in the scariest part of the basement of the old building after school. I also remember soaking opened envelopes in water and collecting interesting stamps, talking to a reporter named Steve who told me he was Stevie Wonder, but I knew better. You wish, bud. Stevie Wonder is amazing, and you, sir, are a reporter.

The second location of the Star allowed us to expand a bit and sell more office supply products. I remember inserting the store flyers after school and mailing the paper, ink from our fingers somehow making its way to our faces. I sang like a songbird as my hands were busy but I was bored out of my mind. Yes, I started working at an early age. And, yes, I made only 60 cents an hour (which someone who worked for my father complained about, to which he said if they wanted to keep their job, they would keep their mouth shut), but those were the good old days. I had money I earned in my pocket to buy whatever I wanted. Truly, I have always had a job. 

I've heard many people say the worst thing you can do to your kids is give them everything you didn't have. My childhood was a lesson in the raw reality of life. But my parents tried to give us what they didn't have. Still, all kids need is love. It could have been better, but my parents did the best they could at the time. Can I say the same about me raising my son? Applying the lessons of my life — what went wrong and what went right — is the most important part of this retrospective. Doing better than my parents isn't possible, but I want to give my son more of myself and also direct him to what really matters, which isn't money or material possessions but one's relationship with God. I haven't shared all of my insights because I want my experiences to speak for themselves. I will summarize key takeaways at the end of this series of memories. 

The above photo was taken by my father for an advertisement. The photo was highlighting the size of that stocking chock full of fun stuff. I recall my dad said I could have the stocking if I got up there and he could take my picture with it. I did not get the stocking. But he got a nice photo of a happy kid, which is what he wanted. Kids remember what their parents tell them. They don't forget.

Yes, I spent a lot of time at work when I probably should have been playing with other kids. I did my fair share of that, too. But working taught me responsibility and the value of earning a buck. I grew up fast. My parents were often working 100-hour weeks (both of them), so I spent a lot of time at work with them. I recall looking through the morgue (old newspapers bound into books) and laughing at the old comics. I sat on my dad's knee while he developed photographs in the darkroom. And I stole a helluva lot of office supplies, which I used to draw fantastical stuff in my spare time. Those times weren't perfect, but we were all together. 

Today, the Star is gone. It was the victim of a chain that mismanaged it, ran it into the ground, and then abandoned it. A new newspaper sprung up in its wake, though it goes by a different name. Some may see newspapers as obsolete dinosaurs, but wherever they fail, people try to start new ones. Their value is more than the price of a subscription. They are our history. So, too, is it for me. The value of the time I spent at work with my family was more than just the meager pay I received. It is my history.

God has created a world where nothing is left after us. We can't take anything with us when we leave. Still, we have our memories, though they may be imperfect. Everything changes. We can't go back and change anything. We can't even go back to visit sometimes. But we can dwell in the happiest parts of our lives through memories. And that is what I will do. I have lived longer than I ever thought I would and am determined to enjoy my life, even the parts that aren't so great or don't make sense. God has answered so many of my prayers. That relationship is what keeps me moving forward.

Thank you for reading, and God bless.