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COLUMN: Journalism career has given enough memories to last a lifetime

Since I was 17 years old, I knew I wanted to be a journalist. Maybe I didn’t know exactly what that meant at the time, but I knew I loved to write.

Since I was 17 years old, I knew I wanted to be a journalist. Maybe I didn’t know exactly what that meant at the time, but I knew I loved to write and tell stories.

In high school, I would help write or edit my friend’s essays for fun while we were in spares together. They couldn’t understand why I loved working on their assignments; I couldn't understand why they didn’t.

While still in Grade 12 I was leafing through college and university catalogues, trying to find something to study. At the time I couldn’t wait to leave the family farm I grew up on in northern Alberta and ‘get out in the world’ and my kind, hard-working parents were willing to support me while I did just that. I turned through the pages, stopping abruptly at the Journalism Arts Program offered by SAIT in Calgary. Deciding solely on what would make me happy, not even considering job opportunities or salaries, I applied and was accepted.

I majored in photojournalism, but always knew I wanted to be a full-time writer. Lucky for me, I have been able to do both.

I was first hired by the Williams Lake Tribune in 1994 by then-editor Ken Alexander. I travelled from Alberta to B.C. for the interview, and his way of telling me I got the job was singing the Rolling Stones’ song, Angie, into the telephone. I couldn’t believe there was a job out there where I actually got paid to take pictures and write stories, or that my boss would sing to me.  At 22, I found my calling. I felt as though I won the lottery.

Thirty-four years, several newspapers, multiple editors and reporters and thousands of stories later, I still feel that way.

I have had two great runs throughout my career as a journalist with Black Press; 10 years as a photographer and hard news writer, followed by a little break when my children were young and we moved to Fort St John; then another 13 years as Williams Lake Tribune editor and, my latest role, as regional editor for the Cariboo-North Thompson.  From covering the big stories like the 2017 wildfires, the 2020 floods and the pandemic, I have enough memories to sustain me for a lifetime. I have worked with newspaper legends such as Lorie Williston, Bob Grainger and Bill Phillips, and countless dedicated journalists too many to list. In more recent years powerful women have been leading the charge, with the likes of Kathy McLean, Mary Kemmis and Ashley Wadhwani-Smith.

While covering big news is always exciting, for me it will be the individual triumphs and tragedies of people and places that I have had the privilege of writing about, that I will hold closest to my heart as I set off on a slightly different path in my career, in communications.

Leaving is bittersweet because I love newspaper and all the people I write about and work with, and I have nothing but good feelings for everyone. 

I encourage you all to continue to support your local newspaper, and all the dedicated staff who continue to work hard to keep you up-to-date 24/7 in print as well as online. I firmly believe journalism continues to play a critical role in maintaining a healthy democracy in our society. It serves to inform readers, to hold elected officials accountable and to keep communities connected.

I know that I will keep supporting journalism. I am also looking forward to continue reading the stories written by my colleagues as I take a little break and try something new.

Thank you for letting me tell your stories, and I hope one day my career path will circle back to journalism, as it has always seemed to do. In the meantime I feel confident that my dear, long-time colleague Monica Lamb-Yorski is taking over the reins. 

As I get ready to leave my personal comfort zone behind and leap into an exciting new role as a 50-something-year-old woman, I take some comfort in the quote; To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often (though I don’t pretend to ever be perfect).