When Fred Kroner finished his memoir in 2020, he asked me to write the forward.
From the Heart to the Heartland
My family moved to East Central Illinois in 2002 from West Lafayette, Ind. As a very young mother, one thing I was not willing to give up was basketball. With a 3 and 1-year-old at home, I became a junior high basketball coach at Franklin Middle School, in Champaign, prior to taking on the junior varsity position, and then varsity position at Blue Ridge High School, in Farmer City, until 2006.
With the Blue Ridge team comprised of seven members, we didn’t win a single game in the 2004-2005 season. I sent in my stats to the newspapers, like every other coach, but our team wasn’t covered in the newspapers like those we faced.
I vaguely remember being interviewed by Fred Kroner after one of our seven wins during the 2005-06 season, but if I’m being honest, I remember him more from his byline and smile in The News-Gazette than from being interviewed.
When I learned that Fred Kroner was ready to retire from The News-Gazette in 2015, I knew that it was a big deal. And I realized when the editor of The Mahomet Citizen was thinking about moving on, Fred would be the natural fit to fill in at that position.
I wouldn’t be real if I didn’t tell you that I was nervous about the possibility. Fred Kroner was an icon to me, someone untouchable, a big deal. His talent is something that many of us strive to realize, and so I didn’t know how the publication I owned, the Mahomet Daily, and how my writing would fare in comparison to his.
But the thing I never understood is why there had to be competition between the two entities: they both have something unique to offer to readers. I hoped that my relationship with the new editor, Fred, could be more like a team rather than a foe.
While Fred is the award-winning writer he is, someone who is well-known in communities throughout the state of Illinois, he quickly helped me to realize that there is something more in this world than squelching the competition.
There is friendship.
When you first meet someone, you exchange pleasantries. But Fred asked if he could interview me for an article to be in the Mahomet Citizen within a few weeks of taking his new post.
Let me reiterate this for you: Fred Kroner, the editor of the Mahomet Citizen, which is owned by The News-Gazette, wanted to interview Dani Tietz, the owner, and editor of the Mahomet Daily, which is in direct competition with his publication.
Not only that, but he also bestowed upon me the honor of telling his story in my publication in the 50th year of his writing career.
There are extraordinary things that happen in this life. This gesture told me everything about who Fred Kroner is.
Fred also suggested that we exchange stories each week to help cut down on our workload. As editors of such publications, we take on the responsibility of everything: finding stories, doing all the interviews, writing the stories, taking photographs, designing or maintaining its distribution, fielding emails and concerns.
A 40-hour work week always turns into a 60-plus hour work week, so one article that would take a few hours to produce is such a gift.
Our working relationship soon turned into a partnership when Fred decided to focus on supporting his wife, Emily, as she jumped into her dream of owning a pastry shop, Lucky Moon Pies & More. Putting in those long hours at the Mahomet Citizen was no longer feasible, but Fred still wanted to write.
It’s not just because he can string a few sentences together after listening to and regurgitating a series of events; if trained, anyone can do that. But Fred has a rare gift.
He sees people.
I’m not talking about watching a game and seeing the boy who scores the most points.
I’m talking about knowing that there is a human being standing on that court, a human being who has hopes and desires, one who has failed once or twice, one who more than likely had to overcome something, and one who is growing.
Just seeing something is the beginning, though. It takes hours, sometimes days and months, to curate a story, to listen to people talk, to try to understand all the pieces, and then to craft a story that is raw and real, informative and complete.
To do this once is luck. To do this consistently is magic.
And that’s where Fred Kroner lies: magic.
The stories Fred produces derive from something that can’t be taught, though. They come from a curiosity that causes him to listen when someone speaks, from an understanding that holds no judgment when someone makes a confession, from the attention that notices patterns or special moments, from an interest in people that makes them feel like they belong.
We all know Fred Kroner. He’s the 6’2” guy sitting at the press table who looks like he played basketball at one point.
But in all the time he showed us the world through the stories he told, he gave something more. Sure, the byline is important. A story on the front page is special. But Fred created a world where he makes people feel like they belong, no matter what.
When I interviewed Fred, I was surprised to learn that his time playing sports was short-lived. When he was the editor of The Citizen, he told me that he liked his role there because he got to write about more than sports.
Of course, after spending 50 years following sports in East Central Illinois, Fred included those highlights in his memoir. But I hope that as you read this, you will also get to know my friend, Fred Kroner.
He is a talented writer. His name has been in the newspaper thousands of times. He’s won awards. He is well-known. But he is so much more than just his job.
Fred is a visionary who consistently pushes himself outside of the box, who overcomes obstacles and who makes sure that he is producing something that not only moves the world forward, but also creates a soft place for people to share their triumphs as well as their failures.
He never forgets that there is a person sitting in front of him during an interview. Because of that, he oftentimes ends up walking beside them in the future.
It’s a gift that very few people in this world are able to offer.
We have all been blessed by Fred Kroner. And once more, we are blessed to read his story, in his words.
–Dani Tietz
