It seems like only 24 years ago when a wide-eyed, fresh-faced man walked up to the front door of the Austin Daily Herald building and asked, “Is this the Austin Daily Herald? The newspaper that all of Austin depends upon?”

“Hell, no,” I told the dweeb as I stepped in front of him. “This is where they’re checking for deer ticks. Just walk inside, drop your pants and bend over.”

You should have seen the look on his face as he fled down the street, screaming.

I was desperate. I had two mouths to feed by myself, and I wasn’t going to let any Joe College get in the way of me becoming a hot shot reporter.

I remember stopping to take a deep breath before walking into the building that day and gazing westward across Second Street Northeast.

“Look at all those buildings, all the people coming and going, business, commerce and entertainment. What a vibrant three-block area. Why not tear down all the buildings and build a minimum-security prison in the middle of town?” I said to myself.

It was that kind of thinking out-of-the-box that would serve me well in future years.

The publisher hired me. He had to: The tapes I bought of illegal Norwegians being unloaded inside the mail room were too much to ignore.

It didn’t take me long to learn the ropes. I had a good group of teachers: Ed, Mike, Roger, Patsy, Bruce, Judy, Mark, and I can’t remember the name of the sports editor. They came and went more frequently than anybody else.

It was a reporter’s dream, working at the Herald. It was like the circus was in town every day. The Mower County Courthouse, Austin City Council and Austin Board of Education were all within a block. There would always be plenty to write about.

I used to be scared of Loren Bellrichard, who didn’t look like a Hormel Foods Corporation executive. Then, he said “Hello” to me one day, and I got to know him.

That was a lot like my reception to Austin.

It was the year of the Hormel Foods labor dispute and strike and the Austin Daily Herald became known as the “Austin Hormel Herald.”

It was not a pleasant time to be a reporter, trying to separate fact from fiction.

Lots of excuses to leave town, but no good reason to do so.

The kids and I stayed anyway, and I’m glad we did.

I’ve always said Austin and all of Mower County has all the news, good, bad and everything in between, a reporter could expect.

Then, it got even better one day when I left the Austin city limits and discovered the joys of life in greater Mower County.

I don’t think today’s reporters understand what a privilege it is to be invited into someone’s home to hear stories.

I did and will never forget those experiences.

Of course, something happened when I visited Adams, and I still can’t figure it out.

Lyle’s a good town and so are Brownsdale, Sargeant, Waltham, Dexter, Elkton, LeRoy, Racine, Grand Meadow and all the others around the county.

I’ve had fun, too, wandering among the machinery at the ghost town of Renova, wondering what it was like when the trains came through the town.

But Adams just got to me.

For all I know they put something in my chocolate malt at the first Adams Dairy Days I attended.

I didn’t invent “Saint Thomas.” Denyse Hompe, his former high school English teacher, did.

I got to know Tommy, and if they hadn’t of said so many nice and happy things about the man that got me to laughing so much at his funeral, I would have called it one of the saddest days of my life when he died.

Saint Thomas was the mirror through which all of Mower County could see itself and what it saw was its own personal reward.

In the last few years I have sent sympathy cards to the families of people who died, people I got to know as a reporter.

Missed some along the way, but mourned them all.

They were stories who became people I knew, even friends.

How dare any reporter take that for granted.

(Warning: Put down all cups of hot coffee while reading this next section!)

I’m going to miss the Mower County commissioners most of all.

The Austin City Council, too, and the Austin Board of Education.

Public officials all, they sure made reporting government interesting, and I applaud their senses of humor.

What was my favorite story? I’ve always said the next story I write is my favorite. I want to keep doing this into the future. There’s too much in life to ignore.

I will weigh my options: Continue writing part-time, start a blog on Austin Unafraid or wait until the filing period opens for the 4th District Mower County commissioner race next summer.

Until then, no more blonde jokes here on Thursdays.

No more Ole, Sven and Lena jokes.

No more biting satire, sarcasm. No more eulogies for the dead.

I’m retiring as a full-time reporter for the Herald.

I’m censoring myself.

Thank You.

Austin Daily Herald reporter Lee Bonorden’s final day was Friday.