Matt Gentry | The Roanoke Times

Kim Kipling puts the final edition of the New River Free Press to bed in the newspaper's second floor office in downtown Blacksburg.

Bits and pieces about the Free Press

• Its circulation started at about 5,000, peaked at 7,000, and has now dropped to around 6,000. It began in the basement of a home on Tee Street in Blacksburg, moved to a living room on Progress Street, and had its first regular office above the Annie Kay’s Whole Foods store on South Main. It moved to Cambria for several years near the train depot, and has been in its present location since 1994.
• The Free Press had two alternative publication predecessors. In the 1970s, there was a publication called Alice, followed by The Steam Tunnel, which in 1983 became the Free Press.
• Early issues were mimeographed. Eventually the Free Press was printed by other newspapers, but earlier volunteers reproduced it at a 24-hour Kinko’s printing shop.
• The paper’s final act will be from 4 to 7 p.m. next Friday, at an open house which will include giveaways of its many books, furniture and devices such as a layout light table. Items not taken will be donated to humanitarian organizations in the New River Valley.

BLACKSBURG -- The New River Free Press kept its final scoop secret for months.

But the announcement came out in the July issue of the 24-year-old alternative monthly: the Free Press is ending its quarter-century of against-the-grain advocacy journalism.

Kim Kipling, who has written most of the free publication's editorials since joining it in mid-1985, and Susan Anderson, who joined the staff a year earlier and has been its treasurer and office manager, decided to pull the plug several months ago. They told no one except their landlord, Chris Kappas, because the lease for their rooms over The Cellar in Blacksburg expires at the end of July.

Anderson made use of the philosophy she put into the newspaper to win a seat on Blacksburg Town Council last year.

She said no conflict has come up between her work on the paper and service on the governing body, although she acknowledged that could eventually have happened.

She said there are other reasons that led to the tabloid's demise.

One is a gradual shift by its readers to the Internet, Kipling said. "The younger crowd, they just don't pick up newspapers."

Another is a dwindling of people to put the product together. "We're this all-volunteer organization, and, as you probably know, many volunteer organizations are having trouble getting new members," Anderson said.

Finally, rising production costs are also a factor. "It was better to stop the paper while we felt it was strong than to kind of limp out," she said.

Once the 275th issue of the Free Press hit the streets, Kipling got on the phone to alert the publication's other volunteers to the news. "Elvis has left the building," he told each one.

"They've been good tenants," Kappas said, even though he said he disagreed with their philosophy at times.

"I've regarded it as a wonderful part of life in the New River Valley, and I very much regret its not being around," said Radford attorney Barry Anderson, one of the many volunteers who helped distribute it.

Kipling, a professor of philosophy at Radford University since 1984, and Anderson, a mathematics instructor at Virginia Tech since 1982, were married in 1990.

"We actually met through the Free Press," Kipling said. "At an anti-apartheid rally on Henderson Lawn," Anderson added.

The first issue came out in February 1983, the product of three young Blacksburg activists: John Enagonio, who now lives in Maryland; Ron Kamikow, a train engineer in Wisconsin; and Mariann Caine, now living in New England.

Anderson said the Free Press was partly a spin-off of two earlier alternative papers in the New River Valley.

The Free Press has moved around, but its offices have been above The Cellar in Blacksburg since 1994. The location has had its benefits for volunteers working late at night. "Even if you're here by yourself working, The Cellar has music," Anderson said. "You can have your own jazz or bluegrass."

Anderson, described by a friend as "a high-octane woman," is involved in many activist organizations in the New River Valley in addition to her teaching and, until now, her work at the Free Press. She is completing her first year as a town council member.

She remembered how she became one of the paper's volunteers. She took a break from grading to browse an issue and, teacherlike, found herself red-penciling errors. She remarked to her housemate at the time that, even though her journalism experience was limited to being advertising manager for her high school yearbook, she could proofread better than that.

The housemate sent the Free Press a donation along with a note about Anderson's willingness to volunteer. "And as soon as that check got to the Free Press office, knock-knock-knock on the door," Anderson said.

Kipling had never done any kind of newspaper work but had been involved in political organizing in college.

The two became the longest-serving volunteers at the paper. Like others, they did it all -- writing, proofreading, layout, going to the printer and delivery. "At this point, I think the two of us are pretty much capable of doing anything" required to publish the tabloid, Anderson said.

Anderson looked through some back issues of the Free Press on Thursday, every so often coming up with an "Aha!"

"Aha! This is the rally that we met at," she said, showing the front-page article of an anti-apartheid rally to Kipling.

Another front-pager involved the 1989 Pittston Coal Co. strike in Southwest Virginia, with a photo of striking United Mine Workers members holding and reading copies of the Free Press.

Other key stories involved resistance to an American Electric power line in Floyd County; the formation of a peace activist group in Blacksburg; coverage of Ku Klux Klan rallies in Western Virginia when the organization was staging parades in 1986; rallies opposing the Iraq war (which started before the war itself); and, most recently, covering efforts to keep Wal-Mart out of Blacksburg.

With young people gravitating to the Internet, Anderson and Kipling said an incarnation of the Free Press could conceivably rise from its print ashes as an online publication.

"And I sure hope it does," Anderson said. But, she added, "that's not where Kim's and my interest is."

"Yeah, we're definitely going to miss it. It's been such a big part of our lives for such a long time," Kipling said. "But as they say, the times, they are a-changin'."