Alabama Press Association

04/11/2025

The Washington Post is fighting for the writers, artists, and publishers who deserve compensation for their work — and for your right to quality, original content. Together, we can hold Big Tech accountable and enjoy a future of responsible AI.

03/20/2025

"The best defense of an open society is open information. We are not safer in the dark." — Tom Blanton, Director of the National Security Archive https://bit.ly/3wUD0eM

03/19/2025

Tip of the Day from Indigenous Journalists Association: Under the law, "representatives of the news media" are entitled to a partial wavier of fees that cover the costs of searching for and copying the records. Find more tips and resources: https://bit.ly/3FtFjKh

03/18/2025

"Public business is the public's business. The people have the right to know. Freedom of information is their just heritage. Without that, the citizens of a democracy have but changed their kings." — Harold L. Cross, Author of "The People's Right to Know" https://bit.ly/49TZhrA

03/16/2025

APA is excited is here and proud to join good government organizations, news outlets and civic groups in promoting the significance of government and accountability. Join the discussion: sunshineweek.org

03/12/2025

We’re counting down to Sunshine Week 2025, March 16-22. Together, we champion and .

03/03/2025

Our right to know.

01/24/2025

Register today! www.alabamapress.org/events

01/10/2025

Newspapers have a smell. If you’re lucky enough to find a physical newspaper in our digital world, you’ll notice the smell first. Fresh newsprint paper. SoySeal ink. Still warm. It’s a unique scent.

I grew up throwing newspapers. Not on a bicycle. My mother and I threw newspapers, riding in her beat up Nissan. We threw papers every day of the week. Weekends. Holidays. Rainy weather. Snow. Thanksgiving. Christmas Eve.

Our mornings went as such:

We awoke at 2:30 a.m. We arrived at West Marine at 3. Whereupon a delivery truck would pull up, carrying a pallet of the “Northwest Florida Daily News.” The pallet was about the size of an average Hardee’s.

Then, Mama and I would hole up in her car, wrapping newspapers while eating breakfast. Usually, Pop Tarts, or ham sandwiches.

Wrapping was the hardest part. You had to roll each paper into a tight tube. Then you shoved the paper into a tubular plastic sleeve which was about the same circumference as a No. 2 pencil.

Once a newspaper was wrapped, you tossed it into the backseat, where your kid sister sat. She had pigtails. She was busily wrapping newspapers of her own.

Your hands would look like a coal miner’s.

There’s not much on the radio at 3 in the morning. But if you didn’t mind AM, you could listen to classic reruns of Paul Harvey. We were big Paul Harvey fans.

When we finished, the backseat was so weighted with newspapers, the rear axel sagged against the pavement, shooting sparks into the night at full speed.

My sister rode in back, buried in rolled-up newspapers. I rode up front, reciting the current list of subscribers.

And this is where the real work began. We all had roles. Mama was pilot. Kid Sister was munitions. I was tail gunner.

I would crank down the window and throw newspapers across Northwest Florida. We delivered several hundred billion each morning. Sometimes more.

We sped through neighborhoods, throwing. The morning-shift cops knew us by name, and never pulled Mama over for speeding. She took corners on two wheels. We called her Mama Earnhardt.

Occasionally, we’d park and throw papers on foot. We’d walk the breezeways of apartment buildings, tossing armfuls of newsprint.

We stocked news vending machines. We wore heavy satchels, weighed with papers, and dropped them at people’s doorsteps. We delivered to hotels. Offices. You name it.

We also received complimentary papers. And we always read them. Front to back. After all, this was our product.

One Sunday morning, after throwing papers, the sun was rising. We parked in front of Winn-Dixie, eating donuts and drinking coffee.

My sister was reading the funnies. Mama was reading the want ads. I was reading a column written by a humorist. And I remember saying aloud, “One day, I want to write for newspapers.”

My mother lowered her paper. Her face was tired for a young widow.

“One day,” she replied, “maybe you will.”

Yesterday, I picked up a copy of a local paper. I saw my name in print. Beneath the byline were 600 poorly written words. Suddenly, I could hear Paul Harvey’s voice on a scratchy Nissan stereo. I could taste Pop Tarts and coffee. I could smell the newsprint.

Because as I say, newspapers have a smell.

10/07/2024

Today begins National Newspaper Week! Alabamians depend on their local newspaper. ☀️🗞️

10/02/2024

03/17/2024

Student journalists from the Daily Iowan, a non-profit paper, have purchased two local newspapers saving them from shutting down. Students from the University of Iowa will help both papers cover their communities.

03/05/2024

Each year in March, news media organizations across the country celebrate , highlighting the importance of transparency in government, and underscoring the vital work journalists do in the fight for access to records that shed light on government activity.

Throughout the year, APA continues to advocate, on your behalf, for more access to essential information from all levels of government.

In preparation for Sunshine Week, March 10-16, find out how you can participate by clicking the link below.

Sunshine Week Toolkit Sunshine Week Graphics Social Media Toolkit What Can I Do? FOI Fun Freedom of Information About FOI/FOIA

02/14/2024

02/08/2024

The registration deadline for the APA Media Summit is tomorrow, Friday 9. We hope you'll join us in Montgomery next week!