Out of the Office: One last edition

Published 2:30 am Thursday, February 19, 2026

For the past few months, my days have had a quiet consistency I’ve appreciated very much. I’ve driven to the office, opened up my laptop, and — often with a cup of coffee nearby — I’ve written. I’ve penned (or typed, really) hundreds of articles about high school sports, city council meetings, the school district’s budget, murder trials, community events and everything in between.

I wrote about happenings on the Kenai Peninsula, an area I’ve never been, from my office in Juneau, where I’ve lived for close to a year now. This was only possible because of you.

Without the thousands of emails I’ve received from organizations, schools and individuals, I wouldn’t have known where to begin. Reporting the goings-on of an area I live hundreds of miles away from was never ideal, but unfortunately, this situation was a representation of the journalism industry’s current health. Most small papers these days are run by a few scrappy individuals who are absolutely determined to keep the public informed. (I’m looking at you, Delcenia.)

This relationship is a two-way street. It requires a journalist who will ask questions, sure — but it takes someone to answer them, too.

So thank you. Thank you for every email alerting me of a topic I otherwise wouldn’t have heard of and every phone call where we dived into the details together. Thank you for contributing photos and reading the stories we wrote together.

I’m sorry to say I’ve accepted a new position, and I’m leaving the Clarion effective Feb. 20. This edition is the last paper that will have my byline on it. I’m not sure when I’ll be replaced, but I hope it’s soon.

The importance of local news cannot be overstated. Community involvement is crucial in countless aspects of daily life, and an individual’s awareness of what’s going on in their city is an essential first step in creating the changes they wish to see. A journalist’s job is to foster that awareness.

Any major change one may hope for — whether environmental, social or political — starts at a local level. A small stone can create dozens of ripples when it’s tossed into still water; a huge landslide can create a massive tsunami when boulders hit the sea.

So stay involved. Ask questions. Share stories. Keep a finger on the pulse of your community, and speak up if there’s an arrhythmia.

I’ll always appreciate the time I got to spend doing the same.