This is it. As you may have noticed on the front page, my wife Linda and I have sold The Landmark and I’m retiring from the newspaper business. Welcome to the last Between the Lines. There will be no more. During one of our conversations over the past four years, Stacy Wiedmaier, soon-to-be-owner of your Landmark, asked if I’d like to continue my column after the sale. “If not every week, maybe every other week or once a month,” is how she presented it. My answer was an appreciative “thank you, but no, no and no.” I want Stacy to carve her own niche without The Former Guy hanging around. Plus, I know me. A topic needing some sunshine and a series of editorials would arise, I would immerse myself in it and start firing off journalistic bombs. Then I would never get out of here. I’m not falling for that banana in the tailpipe. I will not be sucked back in, this isn’t the mafia. It’s best to cut this thing off cold turkey. Some of you government folks are gonna have to fight amongst yourselves now. I won’t be here to mediate or stir the pot. Stacy gets to have that fun.
To our readers, thank you very much for inviting our newspaper into your home. You are the reason we do what we do. We’ve always performed this job with the mindset that we work for you. We never wanted to let you down. Thank you for caring enough to read my whimsical thoughts in this column. I’m going to give you a break now. Between the Lines debuted in 1993 and appeared periodically–as in whenever I felt I had something worthy to say–up until 1999. Since 1999, you have been able to read a fresh Between the Lines column each and every week. Some of you interact with me often. And others of you, hey, we have never met. But know that Between the Lines worked just as hard to represent you and your interests as we did the readers who communicated with us on a regular basis. Kind of a no reader left behind thing, if you will.
To our advertisers and legal notice folks, thank you all for your support. Through your advertising dollars you funded our work and we are eternally grateful for that. Thank you to the tipsters who always thought of us when breaking news hit or when there was a behind the scenes topic that needed some eyeballs. We couldn’t do it without you.
There have been countless reporters, office assistants, ad sales folks, columnists, mailroom workers and more who helped make this newspaper possible. Let’s not forget Bill Hankins, the former longtime Landmark contributor who is in the Missouri Photojournalism Hall of Fame. Bill is the man truly responsible for The Landmark winning dozens of awards in the Missouri Better Newspaper Contest in my time here because he is the one who made the selections on what we would enter, and then often prepped the entries. That’s just one of many reasons I can never thank him enough for the role he played in our success. On top of that he is just a classy guy with a journalism background whose supportive words always fueled me.
And there’s Chris Kamler, the man formerly known as Fake Ned. In the fall of 2011 I reached out to one of Kansas City’s biggest Twitter stars to see if he’d like to join our team. I had no idea whether he could write anything longer than a tweet, but I didn’t care. I wanted his humor in our paper. He said yes, and look at him now, writing books without the aid of crayons and stuff. And in 2017 when we finally established a Facebook account, I wanted to start a videocast to help promote our Facebook presence and have some fun along the way. Kamler was the man who joined me in those early shows to get it rolling. Some of those wacky productions live in infamy on YouTube. Might want to hide the kids if you’re going to watch a couple of those.
And there’s Brad Carl. The former radio DJ originally from Iowa or Nebraska, honestly I’m not sure. Brad took on a major role on Landmark Live in its later years and created original songs for us. His biggest hit was an ode to Parkville Mayor Nan Johnston called “Meet Me at the Speakeasy.” Google it. You can find Brad these days in Oklahoma or Arkansas, honestly I’m not sure. But I do know he is often included in text exchanges with Speck and me.
I couldn’t begin to name them all here but all employees had an important role in this newspaper’s history, and it makes me feel good to know that many of them stay in touch to this day. To every one of you, I say thank you for your work. We are proud to have had you on our team.
Don’t read too much into the words when I say I’m “retiring.” I’m not really the retiring type. My wife will tell you I’ve never been good at sitting still. I’m “retiring” only from the newspaper business, not retiring as in retiring. I’ll be back in the workforce at some point doing something non-newspaper related. I do want to step off the merry-go-round for a couple months and catch my breath before jumping into anything. I’ve been told I’ll be painting an accent wall, there’s a table that Linda’s dad made for us years ago that needs refinishing, and there’s a small plumbing project that should be simple but I bet will make me say a few choice words. Also, there’s a fall getaway planned to Nashville, which is one of my favorite cities, and another fall getaway to the Knoxville area to visit our oldest daughter and her family.
In addition, this fall I’ll be serving as the advanced scouting coordinator for the King City Wildkats football team. What my fancy title means is that I’ll be studying game film of upcoming opponents for the Wildkats and providing my observations to the head coach. “I’m looking for trends, tells, fave plays backed up, middle of the field scheme, RedZone strategy, etc.,” said the coach, who is my son-in-law, Todd Shifflett. I asked about pay and the coach told me he would “try to rub two pennies together,” which doesn’t sound like much but it’s more than I’ve been paying Speckman to write his Ponder the Thought column. I texted Speck to brag about my scouting position and he shot back with: “Pretty sure we are enemies now because I was watching North Andrew clips yesterday.” For context, Speck not too many years ago helped coach North Andrew and a good friend of his is still head coach there. King City and North Andrew are rivals, so whenever those two schools square off this season either Speck or I will win bragging rights in the text chain.
Let’s talk about Guy Speckman, former owner of the Savannah Reporter who is affectionately known by Speck to those who can relate to his quirkiness. I owe him a great deal of gratitude not only for all the hilarious columns he has written for us the past six or seven years but also for his willingness to answer my inquiries the past several months whenever I hit him up with questions like: “Whenever you sold your paper, how did you handle this, how did you handle that?” We give each other grief but just know Speck is a trusted friend and we have long had a bit of a mutual admiration society going back to his time in Savannah. For a lot of reasons, in the newspaper business you have to keep a tight circle of trust, and Speck is in there. Other than my wife and kids, office manager Cindy, Speck and an attorney or two, for nearly four years nobody else knew this transaction was a distinct possibility. That’s the way it has to be in business. A deal isn’t a deal until it’s done. Speck doesn’t like when I say nice things about him, seems to make him a little queasy or something, so I’ll need to apologize for being polite to him in this column. And I thank him for his kind words in his final Ponder the Thought column, which you can read here.
Here’s an inside story for you. Last year–I want to say last September or October–Speck sent me his column for that week with a message saying he was calling it quits. Done. I immediately picked up the phone. I had to let him in on the possible Sept. 1, 2026 sale, which obviously at that time was still a year away. “Hang in there for another year and let’s go out the door at the same time,” I said. He agreed. Kind of reluctantly, I feel like. Basically he said yes, but absolutely no later than Sept. 1. I kept him apprised of scheduled conversations with Stacy and he would check in with me afterward, seeking assurance that things were still proceeding toward the finish line so he could be done Pondering his Thoughts. He hung in there and continued providing his uniquely humorous observations about a year longer than he really wanted. The Landmark and our readers are all better for it.
I will let you know Speck and I have been making plans to begin a podcast in the not-too-distant future. No politics. Just information, conversation and smartassery. That’s not a promise or a warning or a threat. Just something that could happen if we focus and finish.
Cindy Rinehart, my good friend and co-worker for the past 34 years here, is also riding off into the sunset. Hiring Cindy was the single most significant decision I made in my 44 years at your favorite newspaper. Cindy walked into The Landmark office out of the blue about this time of year in 1992 and asked to see “Mr. Foley,” like she was expecting some distinguished gentleman or something. I hated to disappoint but I had to tell her that I, in fact, was Ivan Foley. “You’re Mr. Foley?” she asked, and I thought things were about to go south. Even though we were looking for a typesetter at the time, Cindy would later tell me she had no idea that we had a job opening when she walked in the office that day. As I gave her a tour and explanation of our operation, the conversation resulted in my realizing that she had knowledge of computers and what it would take to advance our newspaper to the next level. I offered her a job on the spot. She needed to go home to speak with her family about it, of course. Eventually she gave a positive response and as I recall her first day on the job with us was the first day of kindergarten for her youngest child.
A great thing about Cindy is that she reads people extremely well. And she was always willing to take on new tasks. I didn’t even have to ask. She just did it. In her time here she has assisted with every operational duty and coached me through the ones that she knew better than I. There was no important Landmark decision I would make without first getting Cindy’s input and feedback.
Another trait Cindy has is that she laughs at the same goofy stuff I do, and this kept us from getting on each other’s nerves during the many days this workplace was a zoo. Cindy has long been like part of the family. All three Foley kids are well into their adult years now and scattered throughout–one here in Missouri, one in Kansas and one in Tennessee–and all of them have known Cindy since they were little tykes. All three ask about Cindy, and if they happen to be in town on a weekday they enjoy stopping by the office to chat with her.
Most of all I thank my wife Linda and our kids–Lindsey, Alyssa and Kurt–for always supporting me in this career path, even when it took away from my time at home. When you have to put out a paper each and every week there are no long family vacations. Thankfully, Linda and the kids allowed me grace and settled for Thursday through Sunday “vacations.” In addition to her real job, in recent years Linda took on a more active role in at The Landmark, helping with whatever needed to be done, doing it without notoriety and without complaint. On a recent Sunday we were working in the office when she looked up and asked, only half-jokingly, “What are we going to do with all our time when we sell the paper?”
Let’s wrap this thing up. Goodbye doesn’t mean forever. We’ll still be living in Platte County and you may bump into us at some community events. If you already have my cell phone number, keep it and feel free to use it. It’s not changing. My personal email address if you ever need it is ivanfoley@gmail.com.
The Landmark was never simply a job. It became a part of who I am. It was an honor to serve you and it was a privilege doing work that mattered to me and, I hope, mattered to others.
I arrived at The Landmark 44 years ago not knowing a soul in Platte County. I’ll leave The Landmark grateful for the friendships, acquaintances, and for the many memories that were made.
Thanks for the fun. I’ll see you around.
