People often ask me how The Morehead Minute got started.
The truth is, its roots go back much farther than a few months ago.
Looking back, I think I was always destined to be interested in news, current events, and the stories that shape our communities.
As a young boy, probably four or five years old, I became fascinated with politics. Whenever President Richard Nixon appeared on television, I watched. Every single time. I was far too young to understand the complexities of government or the controversies surrounding his presidency, but something about politics and leadership captured my attention. Despite his flaws, Nixon remains a historical figure I have always found interesting.
That early fascination sparked a lifelong interest in politics, and politics naturally led to an interest in the news. After all, so much of what happens in our world is connected to decisions made by government leaders, local officials, and community organizations.
By the time I reached high school, that interest had grown enough that I served as News Editor for the Viking Voice, our school newspaper. At the time, I didn't realize it, but those experiences were planting seeds that would eventually grow into something much larger years later.
As an adult, I became what many people would call a news junkie.
My television was almost always tuned to a 24-hour news channel. When I browsed the internet, I was usually reading news websites. I wanted to know what was happening in the world, what was happening in the country, and what was happening in my own backyard.
I loved it.
In fact, I loved it a little too much.
Eventually, I realized my constant consumption of news had become unhealthy. It seemed like every spare moment was spent reading headlines, watching breaking news, or following the latest developments. What had started as an interest had slowly become an obsession.
So I stepped away.
For a while, I intentionally distanced myself from the nonstop news cycle. It was one of the better decisions I could have made.
But even after stepping back, the interest never completely disappeared.
When I returned to following the news, I did so differently. Instead of focusing so heavily on national politics and international events, I shifted my attention toward state and local news. I found myself caring less about what was happening thousands of miles away and more about what was happening here at home.
I wanted to know what was happening in Morehead.
I wanted to know what was happening in Rowan County.
I wanted to know what was happening throughout Northeastern Kentucky.
And whenever I found something important, I shared it on social media. If there was a road closure, an accident, a community event, a government decision, or something people needed to know, I would post it.
Then one day, something happened that changed everything.
A few months ago, Mom and I were driving through town when we came upon an accident or some other situation that was affecting traffic. Like I had done many times before, I posted about it on Facebook so people would know what was going on.
Afterward, Mom looked at me and said something that stuck with me.
"Joe, you should have been a news reporter. You eat that stuff up."
It was one of those simple comments that makes you stop and think.
Because the truth was, I had never seriously considered journalism.
My career path had taken me in different directions. I spent years in the funeral service industry, followed by retail and customer service, and had really wanted to be a Kentucky State Police Trooper. But journalism was never part of the plan.
At least, not consciously.
But after Mom made that comment, I started thinking.
Maybe she was right.
I enjoyed gathering information.
I enjoyed helping people stay informed.
I enjoyed telling stories.
I enjoyed keeping up with what was happening in the community.
Then another thought occurred to me.
What's stopping me?
One obstacle immediately came to mind: I didn't have a journalism degree. I wasn't formally trained as a reporter. I didn't have a communications background.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the world had changed.
Today, information is more accessible than ever before. Technology allows ordinary people to create websites, publish newsletters, share stories, and reach audiences that once would have required an entire newsroom.
And yes, modern tools—including artificial intelligence—can help organize information, improve writing, and streamline the reporting process.
Suddenly, the obstacle that had seemed so large wasn't really an obstacle anymore.
Within a matter of days, The Morehead Minute was born.
Like any new venture, it wasn't perfect.
We ran into technical problems. We dealt with platform issues. We experienced the frustrations that come with building something new from the ground up.
But every challenge taught us something.
In fact, some of those early setbacks ultimately led us to move to a better platform and create a stronger foundation for the future.
Since then, The Morehead Minute has continued to grow.
Every subscriber, every reader, every email, every share, and every story reminds me that people still care about local news. They still care about their communities. They still want a place where they can learn what's happening around them.
Most importantly, this experience has taught me something valuable.
Too many people spend years talking themselves out of pursuing something they would truly enjoy because they believe they lack the right credentials, education, experience, or connections.
Sometimes those concerns are valid.
But many times, they're not.
The tools available today have opened doors that previous generations could only dream about. Opportunities exist now that simply didn't exist twenty years ago.
The lesson isn't that obstacles don't exist.
The lesson is that obstacles don't always have the final say.
If there's something you've always wanted to do, don't automatically assume it's impossible. Don't assume you're too old, too inexperienced, or too late.
You might be one conversation, one idea, or one leap of faith away from creating something meaningful.
The Morehead Minute exists today because of a simple comment from my mother and a decision to stop focusing on what I lacked and start focusing on what I could do.
Sometimes that's all it takes.
A dream doesn't become reality because everything is perfect.
It becomes reality because someone finally decides to begin.