CLAREMORE — There was someone here before you and there will be someone that follows. There are people who paved the way, broke the land, opened the path, paved the road that we might make our journey with less bumps and potholes.

It is those who have come before, who laid the foundations of character and lessons that we owe our thanks.

It was 1969 when my fifth grade teacher assigned our class the task of publishing our own individualize newspaper. It was a project that likely placed the seed of journalist within my DNA.

The guidelines were clear: the newspaper must be on newsprint in the dimensions of our daily newspaper (the Pine Bluff Commercial), it must be organized with news, opinions, club, school, sports, advertising and comics. Mrs. Smith insisted it all be done in black ink and by hand — and only by the student. There should be no helping from parents.

With assignment details in hand, my mother and I dropped by the Commercial and picked up two end rolls of newsprint. I measured and cut out the wide sheets as evenly as I could. Once folded in half, the makings of my first newspaper lay as a blank page.

This task was quite an undertaking for an 11-year-old boy. With my mother hovering over my shoulder, I planned out each section and the types of things that I needed, where they would be placed (hand drawn).

Little did I know that my mother had been editor of her high school newspaper The Hornet of Mineral Springs High School. I didn’t discover this until Monday, as I began sifting through her albums as I prepared to write her obituary. She peacefully left his world on Sunday afternoon after short illness.

When read how she was The Hornet’s editor, it came to me how she guided me and served as a sounding board as I mapped out The Cowling Chronicle.

She knew just the kind of news items that were important for a community newspaper. She grew up in a very small rural community in southwest Arkansas. A lifelong subscriber to the Nashville News, she relished seeing the reports of the high school basketball teams and who in the community that has died.

In her later years, her eyes would glisten when she read about one of her former classmates or how the local school was growing. Her connection to her childhood community kept her in touch with her past and gave shape to her future.

As my fifth grade publishing project drew closer to my Monday deadline, I worked tirelessly. During that final weekend prior having to turn it in to my teacher, I remember making a hard final push on Sunday evening. It was my first all-nighter of many to come to complete the project.

My mother, who never ever allowed me to stay home with the slightest of sniffles, graciously said I could miss school on that Monday and they she would personally deliver the Cowling Chronicle to Mrs. Smith to meet the deadline.

I think received an A for the assignment.

That grade was the least of the lasting remnants that have been derived from my mother watching over my shoulders as I prepared a column or drew 3 x 5 advertisement on that yellowish newsprint.

She had a hand in my future journey as a journalist. It’s something that I will never forget.

My mother was here and now I follow in the journey. She paved the way, giving me opportunities at college, graduate school and to attain a doctorate. She helped make the road less bumpy. She gave me the gift of curiosity and love of community.

I am reminded of something Alfred Lord Tennyson once said. It reminds me of lessons my mother gave me for my journey.

“No man ever got very high by pulling other people down. The intelligent merchant does not knock his competitors. The sensible worker does not work those who work with him. Don’t knock your friends. Don’t knock your enemies. Don’t knock yourself.”

Remember those who walked before you, so you can be who you are today.

Randy Cowling is editor of the Claremore Daily Progress.