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tant problem we're faced with," Scott acknowledged one cold   tique, Scott Newhall still likes to tell of surviving that perilous
        morning in January, shortly before his 75th birthday. And for a   horseback ride  across  Mexico,  a  steamship  transit across  the
        brief midwinter moment, the Newhall family's golden boy re-  stormy Atlantic, the proposed duel with a rival newspaper edi-
        flected every one of those 75 years.               tor, even the foiled attempt of a hired killer and the burning to
                                                           the ground of his graceful mansion, which the Newhalls rebuilt
             onths  later,  one  day  in  May,  Scott  Newhall  abruptly
                                                           even lovelier than before.
      M                                                   against the impress of time. "Don't get to be my age and start a
                                                             But even a  life  so  rich  in experience cannot defend itself
             walked  away  from  his  upstart  newspaper,  in  the  town
             named for  his great-grandfather,  finally  accepting that
             his proudest hopes, his vainest ambitions and much of  newspaper," Newhall warns,  "Just don't." He takes a  moment
             his wealth had been consumed by age and the flames of  for himself, then sighs, 'The future has nothing to do with us."
        passion. The proud phoenix that rose from  The  Citizen's mast   "At my age, you can't think of the future or make any prom-
        descended again into ash.  "We decided that after a six month   ises," continues Ruth, whose narrow shoulders remain the iron
        start-up period, we could detect the flavor of success or failure,   bedposts around which Scott drapes himself. But if the Newhalls
        and read the omens of the future,"  the grand old editor de-  appear somehow uncertain of themselves now, not entirely con-
        clared in his farewell.  "Well, after six months the omens were   vinced of their rightful places on the rugged western skyline, all
        not favorable.  Yet  as  a  matter of pride we  carried on for  two   they need do is look back at Santa Clarita's brilliant 20th cen-
        more months .... But today, ifwe continued, pride would have   tury, which they themselves have chronicled. Until the very end,
        turned to simple vanity-and vanity is not an attractive virtue."   the Newhalls played leading roles in  that great pageant. And
          For Scott and Ruth, who have withdrawn  to  a  picturesque   even at the end, they did not go out without raging against the
        Victorian  mansion  amid  the  surrounding  mountains  and   dying light.
        orange groves, the prospects are less certain. Dressed in a finely
        tailored blue serge suit that could be, and probably is, an an-  Elliot Blair Smith is a contributing editor.
                 When Scott Newhall's son Tony resigned as publisher of The Signal, it was a watershed for the community.  The end of an era.

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