On a personal note for this Father’s Day, I want to take a moment to recognize and honor my late father, Wendell Faught (1929–1998).
A Father's Day Reflection: Remembering Wendell Faught
June 15, 2025
By Jay Faught
On a personal note for this Father’s Day, I want to take a moment to recognize and honor my late father, Wendell Faught (1929–1998). He was more than a dad—he was a storyteller, a journalist, and a quiet observer of the world around him.
For more than two decades, he served as the editor and publisher of the Deming Headlight and was at one point President of the New Mexico Press Association. His journalism career took him to newspapers across New Mexico, Texas, and Oklahoma, but no matter where he went, one thing remained constant: his column, Plain Talk.
Plain Talk was exactly what the title promised—thoughtful, straightforward, and often laced with humor. Sometimes he wrote about our family. Other times he used current events as a backdrop to make broader observations about society, always with a tone that managed to bring people together, regardless of political views.
One of my favorite columns is from 1963. In it, he wrote—humorously but pointedly—about how rude it was to be in someone’s office only for the phone to ring and the person to answer it mid-conversation. He questioned why someone would give priority to a caller whose identity they didn’t even know, over the person sitting right in front of them. I think about that piece often, especially now, when our cell phones and screens constantly compete for our attention. My father passed away long before smartphones became a part of daily life, but his message has only become more relevant with time.
When we moved into our current home, I created a space called the “Newsroom”—a tribute to his lifelong work in journalism. One wall is dedicated entirely to him, with clippings of his articles and columns spanning his career. It’s a space where his voice still echoes.
Even though he’s no longer with us, my father’s words—and the impact they had—continue to live on. Not just for me, but for everyone who read Plain Talk and found a little bit of wisdom, laughter, or connection in his words.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. Your voice still matters.