Editor’s note: This is the second of three stories about local historical figures. The following is information from a 1956 article about publisher Arch Baumgartner of Milford. The article is from the files of the Kosciusko County Historical Society. The third in the series will be posted Friday, Sept. 2.

MILFORD – In this age of lavish leisure, soft security and fat early pensions it’s hard to persuade youngsters that success is still compounded of two old-fashioned ingredients – spelled R-I-S-K and W-O-R-K.

But it’s true, and Arch Baumgartner is a convincing case in point.

Life put Baumgartner behind a large eight-ball early. He was 12 when his farmer father, Emil, died in 1930, after siring 15 children – 11 of whom still lived. With help from the older kids, his mother saw Baumgartner, her youngest, through high school, then said, “Now you’re on your own.”

Ambitious, Baumgartner wanted college. He got in a year at Ohio’s Western Reserve by living with a teacher brother in Cleveland, and two more at University of Michigan by coaxing a $1,500 personal loan from Jake Neff, a Milford banker.

In July 1939 – not yet 22 years old, deeply in debt and driving an ice truck for his brother, Wilbur, Baumgartner heard that Milford’s weekly paper, the Mail, was for sale.

The Mail wasn’t much – a hand-set relic with 600 subscribers and antique machinery. Moreover, Baumgartner knew utterly nothing about printing or newspapering. But the price  – $1,800 – was low, and a tiny town like Milford doesn’t offer many opportunities to young men eager to be on their own.

Too deeply in debt to get more money through the bank, Baumgartner called a family conference. Would his older brothers and sisters finance him? Some were dubious but all chipped in loans.

Baumgartner was the reporter, circulation seller, ad man, printer, pressman, janitor and flunky.

Every word in the Mail had to be hand-set, letter by laborious letter. The Mail’s old owner stuck around scarcely long enough to teach typesetting to Baumgartner and his sister, Edith, who joined him.

Luckily, Baumgartner found a tramp printer at $15 a week. Somehow they got the paper out. After two no-profit months, Baumgartner said, “We’ve got to get a Linotype. Hand-setting is killing me.”

He found a $900 used lino he could finance for $15 a month. It shook, rattled and groaned but miraculously spewed out type lines – until a rainy night and leaky roof rusted its innards. Baumgartner complained to the landlord, who raised eyebrows and said, “Your rent is $12 a month. For that you expect a new roof?”

Down the street at 206 Main Street was an old, vacant building. Baumgartner bought it for $500, at $15 a month. Getting materials on credit (another $15 per month) he remodeled and moved in. Repaired, the old lino grumbled anew and the Mail kept appearing.

Arch and Della Baumgartner

Then war’s roof fell on Baumgartner’s head. Drafted, he was tempted to sell out and salvage what he could. But he was stubborn, and his sister, Edith, said, “We’ll get out the Mail.”

So off went Pvt. Baumgartner to the Air Force, vowing he’d apply part of his piddling military pay to debts at home.

Within a year, he won a commission and married Della Frauhiger, a Warsaw girl, who worked so they could pay $50 a month on old debts.

Their son, Ronnie, arrived late in 1943 and Baumgartner soon went overseas. When she could, Della got a job back home so the $50 payments could continue.

As a result of these sacrifices, Arch and Della were almost debt free at war’s end. Now they poured their energies into the Mail and Milford.

As they built up the paper, Baumgartner was able to buy a new press, a second lino, three job presses, new type and better tools. Della worked at his side, taking time out to have a daughter, Janie, in 1948.

The paper paid Baumgartner little for his 16-hour days – but it did nibble away at his obligations and with circulation and ad volume slowly growing, the eager young publisher began to see daylight.

In 1950, some people from Pierceton approached Baumgartner. Their weekly paper had folded. Would Baumgartner launch one?

He did. In six weeks, he had 400 subscribers. In 1956, circulation topped 1,000.

Even with two papers, Arch and Della found time for worthwhile civic projects. They were leaders in a campaign that created a fine park at Waubee Lake, a project that won top Indiana honors in a Kroger “Build a Better Community” contest. Arch became PTA president, Lions club secretary, an active Chamber of Commerce booster.

“Anything that’s good for Milford is worth doing – no matter how busy you are,” he’d often say.

In 1942, when he was whisked off to war, Baumgartner was $4,000 in debt.  In 1956, he and Della had a spacious, comfortable home and ample income.

Lucky? Nah –  Baumgartner earned it – every hard-won bit of it.

And in America, even in a tiny town, it’s an example of the success that can be won by anyone with a zest to learn, the guts to gamble and will to work.