By: Jim Hannaford

When Rob Holbert has some downtime, you might find him at the end of his backyard pier on the west side of Mobile Bay. But don’t expect him to linger too long out there. Being co-publisher of the Lagniappe newspaper, something he’s done for 22 years now, demands a lot of hours.

He and his staff usually have a bit of a break in the middle part of the week, but it’s a short one. Rob thinks of it as kind of a calm between storms, and it gives him a chance to catch his breath before gearing fully into production of the next week’s issue. 

“It’s busy, but I think you just get used to it,” says Rob. “I really don’t know how to not be busy.”

Weekends usually give him more of a chance to unwind. Between family outings, household chores, and maybe a gig playing guitar and singing with his good friend Andy MacDonald, he’ll sometimes cast a line from the pier. 

Having grown up on the water in Gautier, Miss., he’s always loved fishing, but it’s not something that he takes for granted these days. In fact, he seems to cherish most everyday things since his life very nearly ended abruptly three years ago. It was a horrible accident, and it’s one that could happen to virtually anyone who enjoys getting out on the water in a boat.

Rob’s early training as a journalist came as a young newspaper reporter for The Mississippi Press in Pascagoula. He had studied at Spring Hill College before earning a master’s degree in journalism at Loyola University. He worked for a while as an aide to U.S. Sen. Trent Lott in Washington, D.C., but had always had his sights set on a career in journalism rather than Beltway politics. He returned to Mobile with his young family and started teaching at the University of South Alabama, where he also served as the faculty advisor to the student-run newspaper, The Vanguard.

A friend of his wanted to start an alternative weekly tabloid-format newspaper, like many major cities had, and he was intrigued. It was in 2002 that he and fellow co-publisher Ashley Toland Trice launched Lagniappe. Initially, their focus was on the arts and entertainment, but they soon delved into covering hard news, too.

Lagniappe went weekly from bi-weekly a decade ago, but proudly positions itself these days as a daily newspaper. 

“We’re doing a lot of reporting now online, probably 65 news and sports stories a week,” he says. “When the paper comes out each week, there’s lots of new content, like columns and features, but only seven, eight or 10 news stories at most, so there is a tremendous amount of information online that is not in the paper.”

As Lagniappe has grown, it’s also earned a reputation for tackling controversial stories that many other media outlets are reluctant to touch. Often, they’ve involved questionable spending of tax dollars or serious ethical lapses among public officials. 

One big recurring topic for Lagniappe has been the estimated 22 million cubic yards of toxic coal ash that’s been generated over the years by Alabama Power Co.’s Barry Steam Plant and sits in a storage pond that’s dangerously close to the Mobile River. 

Rob and his staff have written about it in great depth, and he’s also touched on it in his popular weekly column titled “Damn the Torpedoes.” Though he’s certainly made his mark as an investigative reporter, the idea of being a columnist is actually what drew him to the newspaper business in the first place. He’s been regularly putting his thoughts into words, usually quite humorously, since he was 22 years old, and he’s now 57. That’s a lot of sharing publicly what’s on his mind.

“I’m always trying to find something to say that needs to be said or that other people aren’t writing about,” he says, “and I try to inject some humor into most everything I write because it makes it more fun for people to read.”

While the golden age of newspapers is behind us, Rob says he’s hopeful more people will start to realize how critical they are to the community. A big challenge now for Lagniappe is convincing more people to sign up for paid subscriptions. He concedes that it can be a hard sell, particularly to people who think that everything the publication has to offer is inside the printed copies they can get for free from one of those familiar purple boxes they see on sidewalks and outside businesses.

Rob points to other benefits like the additional news content online and full access to its archives. He also argues that more revenue from subscriptions, adding to what they make from ad sales, will help the publication continue to grow.

“It’s 21 cents a day to read the paper online, and that’s cheaper than it was when I first started in the newspaper business in 1990,” Rob says. “I would love to be able to hire two or three more reporters. Our goal is to be the best newspaper in Alabama, and I think we already are.”

His attitude about fishing is competitive, too. It’s not just a leisurely pursuit to clear his head.

“I like to catch fish,” he clarifies, and talks of a recent reward: “I caught a black drum a few weeks ago that was about 25 pounds. It wasn’t exactly a monster, but I had a blast bringing it in.” 

Rob’s accident three years ago wasn’t some minor maritime mishap—he was so sure he was going to bleed out in the brackish waters of Biloxi’s Back Bay that he gave instructions to his friends on what to say to his loved ones. He says he also told the driver of the boat that he knew it was an accident and he “didn’t hold any ill will” toward him.

The three longtime friends had enjoyed a beautiful outing together and were heading back home to enjoy the last rays of twilight when the driver suddenly lost control. Rob was thrown out of the boat, and his left leg was nearly severed by the spinning propeller, which broke his thighbone in two places and literally grazed his femoral artery. 

Thankfully, they were very close to Keesler Medical Center, where he received life-saving emergency treatment before being airlifted to University Medical Center in New Orleans. During his 15 days there, his ordeal got a lot of news coverage, not just from his own publication but also many others. He soon became aware that many people were intently following the developments and were praying for his recovery—and he says he felt it.

“It was like this wave of positive energy,” Rob says. “Sitting in that hospital room with a broken leg and hoping it wouldn’t get infected (and have to be amputated), I could feel the positivity, and it was amazing. It was pretty powerful.”

Three years later, he has a deeper appreciation for the many gifts life can bring. That includes spending precious time with his wife, Beth, and their family.

“When you have a near-death experience like that, it definitely makes you think, ‘Have more fun today, do things you want, and don’t put it off,’” he says. “That’s why we moved down to the bay. I always wanted to live on the bay, and I thought, ‘I’m not going to wait, let’s just go and do this. Let’s make it happen.’”