Matt Winters

My maternal grandfather read every paper from The Times of London to the Billings Gazette. They were his college, his library and passion. Having gone to work in the mines at age 14, I suppose they were even his high school.

As an old man, he built himself a snug, cushioned nook over the wood box in a corner of the kitchen, a sumptuously warm spot where he’d prop his feet up on the white-enamel stove, a newspaper inevitably in hand. Although one of my uncles was a publisher, I’m sure it was more Grandpa’s high regard of journalism that lured me into it as a profession.

An ardent Democrat, his acidic contempt for our local congressman was boundless — reading news stories aloud to my grandmother, he always made Cheney rhyme with “meanie,” close enough to the truth.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt was Grandpa’s god, darned near, and the little collection of historical papers he eventually passed on to me starts with Roosevelt’s third inauguration in 1941, followed by his death and Harry Truman’s ascension to the presidency in 1945. I imagine Grandpa once had earlier dates, too, but we lost many family keepsakes in a house fire just after World War II.

I took up the practice of saving newspapers that feature notable historical events, starting with President Richard Nixon’s resignation in 1974. I nearly danced in the high school hallway with joy at the time, little knowing how moderate and competent he would seem in comparison with certain latter-day GOP leaders.

My wife and I have lately been watching the last, sad season of “The Crown,” chronicling Princess Diana’s final days, and it reminded me of another front page in my collection — The New York Times’ initial report about what turned out to be a fatal car accident in Paris.

Some other big headlines in my cardboard storage box:

• “41 STATES GO FOR IKE”: The Denver Post, Nov. 8, 1956

• “Russia Orbits Spaceman: Astronaut Uninjured in Landing”: The Denver Post, April 13, 1961

• In November 1963, the Riverton Ranger from the small town adjoining ours pronounced “Kennedy Dead” in what we in the business call “wood”: type so large that in the old days it had to be carved from blocks of wood instead of cast from molten lead.

• “MOVE OVER WORLD: ‘Intelligent Beings’ Send Space Signals”: The Oregonian, April 13, 1965. Embarrassing, I imagine, when that one fell through …

• “AMERICANS WALK ON MOON! ‘GIANT LEAP FOR MANKIND’“: The Oregonian, July 21, 1969

• “Powder keg with a lighted fuse: Ash, gas still are flowing”: Tacoma News Tribune, March 13, 1980

I hope that one of my own grandkids someday shows an interest in them so I can keep our family news archive alive. Considering how the internet has won the information war, it’s hard to predict just how long newspapers will continue using paper and ink, so new additions to the collection have piddled out. But I sure hope not: There’s no good substitute for sitting with a newspaper, absorbing history as a work always in progress.

As a Chinook Observer subscriber in Kirkland, Washington, recently wrote, “Your paper is a delight! I do want the mailed print — I like holding newsprint!”

Thank you, Ann, and much appreciation for all newspaper fans.