Kent Ford's kindness will endure for the ages

In the spring of 1995, I signed up for something I wasn't quite prepared for.

Such is the way of a Gen Xer with nothing to lose and all the confidence in the world.

I had been working for a few years on my college newspaper at the University of Missouri-Kansas City and decided to run for an office within our college newspaper sphere — the Missouri College Media Association. It was an offshoot of the legendary Missouri Press Association — a driving force in journalism in this state.

I ran. I (barely) won. And Kent Ford introduced himself to me after that vote in a lecture hall at the then-Northeast Missouri State University (now Truman State University).

A few months later, we would have lunch in Kansas City — at Applebee's, the journalist's choice of lunch options — where Kent would enlighten me on Missouri media and the state of our industry. That was great. But what was more is that he was also there just to listen. About me. Silly little me. How I stumbled across journalism, what I hoped to accomplish (I can't even tell you in between riblets what I told him) and, most importantly, how what we did in college journalism mattered.

It mattered. We were going to run the newspapers in this state over the next decade. And when discussing journalism and newspapers and our industry, he was a force, but in no way forceful. He listened.That was somewhat new to me.

 Less than a year later, we were hosting the MCMA Conference at UMKC. Sessions were set, Kansas City Star columnist and author C.W. Gusewelle was about to take the stage as our keynote speaker and all the awards for the college journalism season were laid out and ready for the next generation of writers.

Kent and his wife, Sharon, were there. And again, it was meaningful.

A few short months later, I would find myself in a position with the Independence Examiner and eventually attending Missouri Press Association events. There was Kent. Kind smile. "How you doing?" Those nuances from the press association you didn't know you needed — Kent provided those.

When I went to Iowa to serve as a publisher for Omaha World-Herald group, I realized Kent and I had a stately kinship — that wonderful state of Iowa. He grew up in Grundy Center and had ties to Grinnell, Iowa. I was from Ottumwa, Iowa, and ran papers in Logan and Woodbine in Harrison County. It all made for interesting stories of that great state.

Once I had returned to Missouri, I would come to serve as president of the Show-Me Press Association and would have more encounters with Kent. Always gracious. Always curious. Forever the consummate journalist, I would remind him of the "way back machine" in college — when I was far too boisterous and not nearly as polished as I needed to be. Forever giving grace, Kent would remind me that we all learned our way through this business. And that if I was doing it for the right reasons, that's what really mattered.

July 18, 2014, hit. And I was laid off from The Star. I made a social media post, and a week or so after, I got a call from Kent.

I so wished I'd have kept that call in its entirety, but honestly, the call itself was enough.

He wished me good fortune — in or out of the business — and reminded me that the newspaper business didn't define me. What I did prior to that — and after — would define me. And, my God, I needed to hear that at that point. I was a mess. And Kent wasn't on that call to clean up my mess, but he was there to tell me it was OK. That journalism would endure. And that I could support that even out of the business.

If every organization had a Kent Ford, it would be a better world. I take comfort in knowing Missouri (and Iowa) had a Kent Ford. And for that, we were, and are, better off.

Rest easy, Kent. That you cared meant everything to me, my friend.

John Beaudoin is a Lee's Summit resident and award winning writer and former newspaper publisher in the Lee's Summit community. Views and opinions expressed in his columns do not necessarily reflect those of Link 2 Lee's Summit, its employees or any other guest contributors. This was originally published Aug 30, 2026, online at link2leessummit.com.