Every Friday morning at the Lapham Center, a small, steady ritual unfolds—coffee and conversation with the New Canaan Sentinel. The coffee, provided by Grace Farms, is organic, ethically sourced, and comes from woman-owned farms. It is distributed by one of New Canaan’s treasures, a place that understands the power of quiet generosity, of thoughtful efforts that, over time, add up to something real. It is the perfect companion to what happens at these gatherings—neighbors talking about their town, their stories, their newspaper.
This week, part of the conversation was about us. Not a topic we planned, not one we sought, but there it was—spontaneous, sincere, and, for those of us at the Sentinel, both humbling and heartening. Readers spoke about how the paper has improved, how the reporting has become sharper, more substantive, more attuned to the issues that matter to New Canaan. It was the kind of feedback that makes a newsroom sit up a little straighter, that reminds us why we do this work.
This paper began just 18 months ago. It started, as all things do, as an idea, a hope, a belief that New Canaan deserved a newspaper that was deeply local, deeply engaged, and deeply committed to serving the town. In those early days, it was just a few people working long hours, trying to get the basics right, to build something that felt like home. Today, the Sentinel is stronger. The reporting is deeper. The coverage is broader. But none of that happened in a vacuum. It happened because New Canaan stepped in and stepped up—offering tips, sending letters, asking us to be better, supporting us through subscriptions, advertising, and engagement. A newspaper and its town are in it together. When a paper thrives, a community is informed, connected, engaged. When it falters, something essential is lost.
The New Canaan Sentinel is not a “gotcha” paper. We don’t chase clicks. We don’t peddle outrage. We start from a simple premise—that most people, whether they agree or disagree, want what is best for New Canaan. That context matters. That fairness and clarity matter.
This is a newspaper built a little differently—more rooted in community, in faith, in an understanding that local news is not about division but about shared civic life. We do not seek to be louder than the rest of the media landscape, or even necessarily faster (though happily, we are, more and more). But we do seek to be thorough. Comprehensive. A place where you can find what you need to know, in one place.
And that only happens because of you. Because of the letters you write, the stories you share, the ads you place, the businesses you support. This is not just a paper about New Canaan—it is a paper of New Canaan.
Across the country, small newspapers are disappearing. Some shut down entirely, others shrink into something unrecognizable—cutting staff, filling pages with syndicated content, losing the ability to serve the communities that once relied on them. When a local paper disappears, a town loses something irreplaceable. Civic engagement declines. Government decisions go unscrutinized. The small but meaningful moments—business openings, school achievements, the work of volunteers—fade from record.
If New Canaan wants to keep its newspaper, it must make the deliberate choice to do so.
The ways to do this are simple, but they matter. Subscribe. A newspaper cannot exist without paying readers. Engage. Send a letter, share a tip, submit a moment that matters. When a town participates in its paper, the paper becomes a truer reflection of the town. Advertise. Local businesses have long been the financial backbone of newspapers. If you own a business, take out an ad. If you don’t, Support Our Advertisers—the businesses that do—because when they invest in local journalism, they invest in New Canaan. Show up. Whether it’s at coffee and conversation, at town meetings, or at local events, being involved makes all the difference.
A town that values itself, that understands the importance of a shared civic life, will do what is necessary to keep its newspaper strong.
Last week, we received many kind words. We also received a correction—a number misstated, a zero where it shouldn’t have been. Both are valuable. One tells us what we’re doing right, the other makes us better. This is how a real newspaper operates: with humility, accountability, and trust in the intelligence of its readers.
We work to get better every week. But that only happens because the people in New Canaan have decided to make it so.
