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Every morning I have schlepped through rain, sleet and dark of night to a local gas station to get my Chicago Tribune, shelling out close to $300 a year. I live 10 miles from the suburbs in a place called “elsewhere.”
Your recent 50 percent hike in the price of a paper has ended a wonderful relationship. A newspaper is not like a pack of cigarettes. You cannot raise the price to exorbitant heights and expect addicts to keep buying it. I’ll suffer Chicago Tribune withdrawal pangs for a while, but they will pass.
