The Evolution of a Local Paper

Myles Dannhausen Jr. at his desk in the Pulse office.

Eleven years ago I was a high school junior sitting in the little hole of a pizza delivery joint my brother and I owned, waiting on the handful of calls we’d get while I knocked out a little homework and watched a lot of ESPN.

It was on one of those long nights that an intriguing little newspaper…well, more like a newsletter, or a flyer really, showed up at our front door. It was a bit “off,” which is what drew my attention. I picked it up and began flipping through its minimal pages.

It had the look of something thrown together by a few college students in a cluttered room, beneath black lights, in whatever space the empty beer bottles would surrender. But first impressions are often mistaken and this one…well, actually this one wasn’t.

It was the first issue of the Peninsula Pulse, eight pages thrown together by Dave Eliot and Tom McKenzie with the help of a few friends, all scarcely removed from college and buoyed by dreams of highlighting the Door County culture they deemed neglected and vague notions of fighting the man and changing the world.

Those first issues (with all due respect to Dave) were rather crude; but those of us under the age of 35 in Door County finally saw our life reflected in print, and we loved it. The Pulse became a venue where off-the-wall topics were discussed, controversial opinions voiced (earning the ire of some early readers and advertisers), and youth represented in art, photos, and words.

Charly the St. Bernard is asleep on the floor of the first office of the Peninsula Pulse on Juice Mill Lane in Ellison Bay in the “early years.”

But as much as I loved the paper, I never dreamt it would last, let alone one day provide me with a full-time job, especially one that would actually have a check on my keyboard on time each payday. Happily, it has lasted, even thrived. (Though I won’t lie, I’m still a little surprised each time that paycheck is waiting for me. That’s going to take years to have faith in and maybe some brainwashing to remove those early memories of delivering late-night pizza to Dave and Tom.)

As we embark on 2008 at the Pulse, I’m almost ready to say I represent a real newspaper. We’ve added a number of great writers in recent months adding to our stable of contributors who know Door County better than anyone else, including Sevastopol High School graduate (and UW-Madison alum) Melissa Ripp, the Siberian adventures of Gibraltar student Sam Kahr, the maritime tales of Jon Paul Van Harpen, and the insightful and bottomless trough of knowledge that is nature writer Roy Lukes.

They join the ranks of long-time stalwarts Erik Eriksson, the meanderings of Paul Wanish, and the insights of the always-deconstructing Steve Grutzmacher.

When I wrote my first story for the Pulse in January of 2004 on former Gibraltar teacher and coach Rod “Chief” Billerbeck, I figured I’d pitch in for about a year. I thought that was about as long as it would take for me to exhaust all I had to say and all the good stories left in our small community.

Four years later, I find myself with an ever-growing backlog of topics to cover, people to explain, and of course, opinions to share. I’ve found there’s more depth to this county than even I appreciated (and when I can’t find that depth, I’ll just write about Mr. Favre again, man-crush be damned).

The year ahead promises to be a big one for the Pulse, as we add more issues, more original content, and look forward to the first Door County Half-Marathon, of which we are a primary sponsor. But what makes it even bigger is our quest to better provide more of the news, stories, and information that matters most to you. As Door County’s only locally owned and operated news publication, we see this as our responsibility, and much to our surprise and honor many of you readers see it as such as well.

To those of you who give us feedback, demand more of us, and look to us to answer your questions and concerns, we thank you. You’ve given us the greatest honor a publication could receive – we matter to you.