For those of us who read and value newspapers these are seemingly perilous times.

Large metropolitan dailies in cities such as Denver and New York are ceasing operations, while others have reduced their newsgathering capabilities and editions, and still more have decided to terminate “print” versions altogether and rely solely upon internet readers.

I have yet to figure out how you can truly enjoy a cup of coffee and toast while reading your news on a computer screen, but perhaps I am just not sophisticated enough to grasp such new technology and ideas.

The decline of readership for newspapers is unfortunate and perhaps even dangerous.

From the founding of the nation, a viable and free press has been the “watchdog” of democracy and the hallmark of our country’s ideas of an independent citizenry free from the oppression of those who would control the flow of information.

I do not suggest such is taking place, but I just cannot fathom how the short attention span spawned by the television newscast and the often spontaneous nature of online journalism can effectively replace diligent and comprehensive reports that characterize a well-crafted newspaper story.

I want to yell “stop” at whoever is causing such a ruckus, but I just don’t know at whom to scream.

I may be at a loss for words while confronted with such a phenomenon, but I am sure that Charles DeMorse, were he with us today, would have had some choice words to offer.

DeMorse was originally a Massachusetts Yankee, but as the saying goes, “he got to Texas as fast as he could.”

Born in 1816 (his original name was Charles Denny Morse, but a British official in Nassau, Behamas incorrectly entered his name as “DeMorse” on his voyage to Texas), the idealistic, young northerner joined volunteers to aid the Texas revolt against Mexico in 1835.

He was willing to fight, but unfortunately got to Texas after the Battle of San Jacinto and had to settle for practicing law at Matagorda instead.

After a brief career as a lawyer and in the Mirabeau Lamar administration, DeMorse found his way to Clarksville in northeast Texas.

There, he founded The Northern Standard in 1842 and would continue as its publisher, editor and general rabble-rouser until his death.

DeMorse became the first mayor of Clarksville in 1842 and was also elected to the Texas Congress. Although he never served in that body; annexation came before he could take his seat.

Although he claimed to have no political ambitions, DeMorse was active in the formation of a Democratic Party in Texas after it joined the Union, and became one of the leading editorial voices on issues leading up to the Civil War.

During the war, he served as a colonel in the Confederate Army, seeing action in Oklahoma and Arkansas.

As he had done before the war, DeMorse once again used his newspaper for a cause after Appomattox, this time advocating Texans to move beyond the Confederate defeat in 1865 and accept re-joining the Union.

But rejoining the Union did not mean accepting Reconstruction policies, so he vehemently attacked the Radical Republicans in print and frequently criticized the policies of Gov. Edmund J. Davis in his paper.

Politics called the editor once again, but he finished second to Richard Coke in the Democratic nomination for governor in 1872, the election that ended Radical Republican control of Texas’ state government.

With his battles against Republicans done, DeMorse turned his attention to championing the rights of farmers in general and the Grange in particular.

He also became one of the first directors of the new Agricultural and Mechanical College of Texas (now Texas A&M), and played a significant role in the drafting of the 1876 Texas State Constitution.

DeMorse died in Clarksville in 1887, hailed by the Texas Press and Editorial Association as the “Father of Texas Journalism.”

He was never a man to let a cause he believed go unbidden. He also understood the power and social importance of the press.