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Visiting with The Times' first employee

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We left the Rapid City attractions and headed for Mitchell, S.D., where The

Times’ first employee is now retired.

Mitchell is on the eastern side of South Dakota. Rick Snedeker was the first employee I hired in early 1974.

We were in an office at 44th Street and Indian School Road. We hung a sign on the front door calling ourselves Western States Publishers. We produced newspapers for two development companies that had new community developments around the country.

The next employee I hired was Mary Thompson who was a bookkeeper and an excellent typist. She

learned how to use the typesetting machine we bought to produce the newspapers. In those days, typesetting was an involved process including retyping all of the story copy.

Rick worked in that office until June when we were about to start The Times weekly edition. We

rented space inside an office building on Saguaro Boulevard.

Sapori d’Italia is now located there.

Mitchell is on the eastern side of South Dakota. Rick Snedeker was the first employee I hired in early 1974.

We were in an office building at 44th Street and Indian School Road in Phoenix. We hung a sign on the front door calling ourselves Western States Publishers. We produced newspapers for two development companies that had new community developments around the country.

The next employee I hired was Mary Thompson,

she was a bookkeeper and an excellent typist. She learned how to use the typesetting machine we bought to produce the newspapers.

Rick worked for us for eight years. A talented writer, he continued to develop his reporting skills. He was The Times’ main reporter, the assistant editor and its first columnist.

His front page column, reflecting on life in a small town, was probably the best read item in the paper.

Rick grew up in Saudi Arabia. His father worked for the Arabian-American Oil Company (ARAMCO).

The family moved back to the states in time for Rick to attend high school. He went to McClintock

High in Tempe and majored in journalism at Arizona State. He often reminisced about his days in Saudi Arabia living in an American compound.

Rick didn’t feel

as if he lost anything by living there. He enjoyed it. He played Little League baseball, and there was a movie theater and American-type stores in the compound.

One day, I was reading Editor & Publisher magazine and I noticed an American company was looking for someone to work on an English speaking publication in Saudi Arabia.

“Rick, here’s a reporting job in Saudi. Are you interested?”

“Put it on my desk,” Rick replied. “I’ll read it after I get back from lunch.”

About two months passed by and I had forgotten about the help wanted ad.

One afternoon, Rick asked if he could talk to me.

“Remember that ad in Editor & Publisher you showed me. Well, I got the job.” Rick said. “I’m going back to Saudi.”

I sat there stunned for a minute or so. What was I going to do without Rick covering the meetings and writing his column?

“That’s great,” I responded in a less than enthusiastic tone.

“The kids aren’t going to understand,” I told him.

He read them stories each night as they were going to bed.

They got over it, but they still remember him, reading them stories, even though they are now in their forties.

We all survived the momentary trauma that I was envisioning. And Rick went on to work in Saudi Arabia for some 30 years.

He retired several years ago and moved to South Dakota. He hired an architect to design a home on a creek near Mitchell.

His wife, Pat, a dental hygienist he met in Saudi Arabia, has family living nearby.

It is a very picturesque setting for a home.

As we were leaving, I said to Rick, “It looks like you did all right for yourself.”

He laughed and replied, “If you hadn’t seen that little ad, my whole adult life would have been different. I just want to say, thank you.”

I’m glad we stopped.