Over the past couple of weeks, I and Pilot Publisher David Woronoff have fielded questions from folks about the paper’s Letters to the Editor section of the Opinion page. We’ve been asked — in ways ranging from polite to incredulous — what our standards are for publishing letters we receive.
Here at The Pilot, we take great pride not just in being a leader for our community, but sometimes our industry as well. We had an opportunity earlier this month to do the latter.
In less than a month we celebrate the 50th anniversary of one of the great achievements of humankind: the landing of astronauts on the moon.
On Father’s Day last year, I wrote about how it’s only later in life — if at all — that we realize certain aspects about our dads as our relationship matures. I’ve come to find that even then, there are some stories that don’t get revealed until they’re gone.
The discussion around the Moore County Schools redistricting project has not been among our finer moments of upbuilding in the Sandhills. Honest differences and disagreements are to be expected, but particularly stunning has been the way some parents have virtually demonized the people, the …
When I began this Mother’s Day column last Monday, I did not know then that this would be the first Mother’s Day for mom in which the one who made her a mother would not be here.
For 15 hours last week, I had no email. Not that people weren’t emailing me. Not that my iPhone, iPad, laptop and desktop computers weren’t working.
You couldn’t help but notice the optimism and more than a touch of pride last week as Bob Grimesey presented his 2019-20 budget to the Moore County Board of Education.
When you are the editor of a small-town newspaper and have children in the public schools, it stands to reason that there will be times your kid and school make news.
You can get your weather forecast pretty much anywhere these days. The household talking speaker will brief you as easily as dozens of weather apps available for your smartphone. To think there was a time the media industry thought Frank Batten Sr. was crazy for starting a 24-7 weather chann…
This column should be shorter than normal in accordance with its subject: shorts. Were I in the textile manufacturing business, the last thing I’d want to be turning out today would be a garment that extends beyond the lower thigh.
Poor Daisy Hawkins. She was the original loner picking up rice in a church where a wedding had been. “Eleanor Rigby” came around later. “I was looking for a name that sounded natural,” Paul McCartney said in an interview about writing the classic Beatles song. “‘Eleanor Rigby’ sounded natural.”
The email this past week had the subject line “So Thin!” Has someone seen me working out at the gym? Was it one of those inbox come-ons that you always get in the new year to “start a new you”? Fat chance.
Newspaper work can be quite humbling. Hollywood, as only Hollywood can do, emphasizes the rare moments of glory, of scruffy reporters in rolled-up sleeves saving democracy. Saving democracy is not an everyday thing in this business, just as surgeons are far more likely to spend their days re…
Food and these winter holidays are trussed like a Christmas crown roast: latkes at Hanukkah, turkey or ham at Christmas, collards and black- eyed peas at New Year’s. Our food traditions run through these waning days of the year like strands of lights wrapped around the individual boughs of o…
I was the youngest of four boys, a 10-year spread from beginning to end. By the time I got around to the same experiences as my older brothers, my parents were pretty well broken in. If you were on the tail end of a long(ish) family, you know what I’m talking about.
Until I started school, I spent a lot of days with my grandmother, Susie Domenick. She lived in a small third-floor walk-up about four blocks straight up Lorring Drive from our home in District Heights, Maryland.
Until 1978, virtually every house in America sported walls of every hue, rolled and brushed with lead paint. By then, though, the nation’s health officials had come to the conclusion that this nation could no longer expose its children to one of the greatest health crises of their young lives.
I subscribe to several newsletters specific to the journalism industry. One of those is produced by Harvard University’s Nieman Journalism Lab and sent out each weekday afternoon.
It happens a few times a year. An upset individual calls concerning something unflattering of themselves they or someone else has come across on the internet via a Google search.
Beginning this past Wednesday, The Pilot began its annual run of editorial endorsements in the lead-up to the November election. Endorsements are among the least understood things a newspaper does, so it’s worth sharing with you why and how we do it, along with what they are and what they aren’t.
There are a lot of o’s in the word “colonoscopy.” Perhaps it’s because you spend the entire 24-hour prep time exclaiming “Oh!” As in, “Oh gosh, I’m hungry.” And, “Oh my God, this stuff is awful.” And “Oh my God, it’s time for another glass!” And “Oh boy, time for the bathroom!”
I utterly believed Christine Blasey Ford when she said she was sexually assaulted at a drunken teenage party years ago. I also believed Brett Kavanaugh when he said Thursday, a few weeks late, that he had at times drank too much as a teen and had done things that today make him “cringe.”
I’m not normally in this space on Wednesday, but in light of what we’ve all been through these last few days, I wanted to share what your community newspaper staff has been up to.
The email made me laugh out loud. An angry letter writer wondered why he hadn’t yet seen the paper publish his letter to the editor on the Opinion page.
On Wednesday, Ayden and I left our Pinehurst house around 4:50 p.m. to get to a 5:30 football practice at West Pine Middle School. I needed to stop for gas first — I figured we had plenty of time to run that errand and go 5 miles.
For more than 98 years, The Pilot has been a local paper exclusively for Moore County. It has covered news and the innumerable comings and goings of every variety, whether on a weekly basis, twice or three days a week.
I did not know Gerry Lenfest personally, but I am a beneficiary of the Philadelphia billionaire who passed away last week at the age of 88. We all are, in a way.
At many community newspapers, especially those smaller than The Pilot, the editor covers government meetings, writes most of the stories, lays out pages, takes pictures, writes the editorials, and handles a fair bit of the local high school sports scene.
The torpor of July is upon us. July is to summer what February is to winter, with three extra days tacked on to make us more miserable. Each of those two months is sort of a bridge through its season. February gets us to the moderating days of March. July gets us to, well, August’s agonizing…
I wrote last month about the nature of online comments posted at the bottom of stories on thepilot.com. At the time, I told you we were studying ways to improve the process and remove Facebook as an intermediary.
Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve had a chance to spend a little extra time with my father, who turned 90 last month. As my schedule allows, I try to find a day here and there when I can leave the office a bit early and go over to his place in Pinehurst.
In this business, like many today, change is about the only constant you can count on. And yet, until recently the senior staffing at The Pilot had been remarkably stable for a long time.
We’ve had many changes at The Pilot in these last six years that I’ve been here, and a fair bit of success. We are proudest perhaps of being named the best community newspaper in the country these past three years.
These remarks were delivered Wednesday to The Kiwanis Club of the Sandhills during its annual presentation of the Junior Builders Cup scholarship to four high school seniors. This year, the club honored Sylvia Hipp of Pinecrest High School, Elizabeth Moore of The O’Neal School, Madison Peter…
A boy remembers certain milestones on his path to independence and manhood: his first sports trophy, first girlfriend, first car, first college party and first stereo.
I’ve always been better at buying books than reading them. I love to read, but given all that fills my days and nights, reading is a much slower deed to accomplish than purchasing.
It may have passed without your notice, but we marked World Press Freedom Day on Thursday. Across the globe, journalists and a number of world leaders celebrated the historic and important role that a free press plays in our lives.
Chances are, if you “came of age” digitally in the 1990s, you likely at one point had an America Online account. And if that’s the case, you can still hear in your head that little aural hit of dopamine: “You’ve got mail!”
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