Mullis: I know a George. A whole team of them.

This question has been popping up whenever I open my Battle Creek Enquirer.

“Do you know a George?”

It is a call to nominate people for the George Award, a tribute to an outstanding leader whose service has bettered our community. The paper has sponsored this award for 60 years and the criteria are very specific. The nominee should be an individual, not a group. Their service should be unpaid and of lasting value to the community.

I know a George, but my George doesn’t fit the criteria … and, quite possibly, violates the ethics of the nomination process.

My George is the Battle Creek Enquirer.

I started freelancing for the Enquirer back in 2006. I have come to know many of the people behind the bylines. And I admire them.

Most journalists are vocational people, patriotic people. You don’t go into this trade for money. You go because a healthy newspaper is integral to a healthy democracy. That’s why our forefathers made such a big deal out of “freedom of the press.”

There has never been much money in journalism and there is even less now that folks read online, mostly for free. During my 11 years in the cheap seats, I’ve watched the paper lose its presses, its art department, its building, its photographers, most of its reporters and editors, and even its receptionist.

And while I’ve had the luxury of being sad, those who remain haven’t let their grief eclipse their mission – to watch, to investigate, to inform. Every loss increases the load on their backs, yet they remain, so the paper remains.

These journalists receive a salary, but the money doesn’t come close to the services rendered.

News doesn’t have office hours. It happens when it happens. These journalists are our community’s eyes, striving not to sleep or blink. This is an impossible goal, but they try anyway. Reporters are at city council meetings, community events, public debates, high school basketball games. They answer phones, listen to police scanners, research “tips,” and drive to developing stories on a moment’s notice.

Handling raw news isn't easy. Think about the recent mass shooting in Kalamazoo. Think about gathering that horrific information, processing the details, asking the right questions, finding words for the unimaginable.

We read those stories with our hearts on our sleeves, because they wrote those stories with their hearts under wraps.

The Enquirer staff not only asks the hard questions on our behalf, they ask the boring ones. How many election seasons have I realized I did not know a candidate or an issue, but 20 minutes on the Enquirer website has me up to speed?

We click in and out of the news as we please. The fact that the news is there despite cutbacks and layoffs is heroic.

Some folks don’t see it that way. They complain about the how small the paper has become, how limited the coverage is now, how they can’t read limitless articles online for free. Some say we no longer need a newspaper.

That last one gets me.

If the Enquirer is gone, who will bring us reliable information on our city government, our streets, our courts, our schools, our theaters, our community, our businesses, our sports teams?

Because I know who does it now.

George.

A whole team of them.

Nicole L.V. Mullis is the author of “A Teacher Named Faith”. You can reach her at nlvm.columns@gmail.com or www.NicoleLVMullis.com.