After something of a long goodbye, I am leaving The Monitor. It has been an incredible honor to have written for you all these past 14 months. I have many I need to thank, and a few closing thoughts to share. But first, a final story.
On Saturday, after one of my last walkabouts up Mount Helena, I went to the L&P. I sorely needed green peppers, to cook with a pair of long neglected onions that had been sitting in my apartment since March. I gathered my produce and a few other things. Jean Shea and Colleen Wilson, a pair of L&P employees who have, since my arrival in February 2024, been unrelenting sources of kindness and encouragement, as well as dear friends, chirped at me as I flitted from place to place about the store. I was quite pleased with myself, and with the lovely little Saturday it was turning out to be.
Upon my arrival to the check-out station, I found Colleen and Jean in stern conference with a frantic young man. The boy, no older than 14, had a budget of 10 dollars to purchase what he called “a belated Valentine’s Day gift” for a girl in his class. He was asking Colleen and Jean for gift recommendations, and sputtering out a list of things he thought she might like. I laughed. The boy, like myself many, many, times this past year, had found himself far beyond his depth and ability.
“This is a serious problem,” I said, cheekily.
As the whole of Jefferson County did for me, time and again, I elected to help him.
“Does the gift need to come from somewhere in this store?” I asked.
“Well I’m not looking to hike down to Dollar Tree, if that’s what you’re asking,” said the boy, taking my question as an unnecessary distraction from the serious task at hand. This was very clearly the first time he had ever decided to act on a romantic impulse, and was, in light of such drastic action, perfectly flummoxed.
I glanced around, and noticed a number of flower arrangements for sale in the produce section. According to Jean, they cost $17.99, which broke the boy’s budget. I suggested a solution. The boy was to use his ten dollars to buy miscellaneous candies, and, in support of his quest, I would buy the flowers.
“Jeez, thanks mister,” the boy absolutely did not say. But he did thank me, and then ran off into the store to select candy. Colleen, Jean, and I smirked at one another, quietly enjoying the successful conclusion to our team work. They placed the flowers aside and handed me my things, and I left before the boy returned.
I do not like when people widely broadcast the nice things they do privately. I’ve always felt that doing so tarnishes the deed. But, in this instance, this nice thing maps perfectly to my time in Boulder, the work I did, and the lessons I learned from each of you.
I have long suspected that the true responsibility of a community newspaper isn’t strictly journalistic. Were it so, I believe The Monitor might have discontinued its print edition a long time ago, and simply asked our readers to “keep up with us” online. Instead, be they read, clipped, thrown into shipping boxes, or burned, we choose to print 1000 tangible, paper issues a week. We put a real object into your hands, and ask you to physically jostle with the stories, therein. I think that well reflects our intention to involve you directly in our news coverage, and to bring you information that is not sensational, but tailored to the place we all live.
While our coverage is often serious and informative, it also celebrates some of the silliest and gentle moments from the county’s annual events calendar. High school sports, festivals, parades, circuses, and more grace our pages every year. This job has allowed me a unique and special glimpse into the lives of the people here, and I have done my utmost to honor the trust and affection that was shown to me in my weekly effort to assemble a newspaper.
But, in all honesty, putting out a paper each week was extremely difficult! Wonderfully difficult, but, still, a huge and constantly recurring task. The moment one week’s issue ended, the next’s would immediately begin. I have said at moments that I felt like Sisyphus, pushing a great boulder up a hill only to have it fall again. Living in a town named Boulder, while contextually hysterical, didn’t help this sentiment either.
I have also, at times, said that I didn’t necessarily feel like a journalist here, but more like a spiritual advisor or friend-to-the-community at large. People would come into our office hurt and angry, and, though there might not be anything publishable from what they had to say, I still had a responsibility to hear it. So many times over the past year have I felt more compelled to comfort than report, and to praise rather than challenge. I’m not sure if this is a good impulse for a journalist to have, but it is, incurably, who I am.
After my encounter with the boy at the L&P, I now believe my work here most closely tracks to that of a gardener, and florist. Each story, grown over the course of a week, was a flower I tended to. Each issue, even if hastily assembled in the early morning hours before our print deadline, was a bouquet, and presented to the community as a gesture of love. I have been forever changed, for the better, by my time here, and I will never forget those I was lucky enough to have grown close to.
And now, I’d like to thank some of them.
First, thank you to Keith Hammonds for bringing me along, for a moment, on your adventure here. You are the best boss I have ever worked for. Your intelligence, warmth, generosity and patience will serve as an example and inspiration to me for the rest of my life. I am so grateful to you, for so many reasons.
Thank you to Chick Bruce, for your humor, consistency, dedication, and acute awareness of all things Jefferson County. I absolutely could not have done this job without you, nor could have asked for a better partner in navigating the weekly madness (and beauty) that is The Monitor.
Thank you to Alisa Smith, our intrepid administrative executive. You were nothing but wonderful to me, and my best memories of working in the office are centered around you. Also, to our 2024 summer intern, Najifa Farhat, for coming to Boulder with me, and to Dan Sturdevant, for the most excellent sports coverage a newspaper editor could hope for.
Thank you to Drew Dawson. I consider you family. I will always.
Thank you to Rusty Giullio for being an incredibly gracious and flexible landlord! And friend, too. I implore you to do everything in your power to become governor, and implore everyone around you to implore you also.
Thank you to T.J. Eyer, Sarah Eyer, Debbie Gabse, Eliza McLaughlin, Chris Evans, Jeff Guay, Robert Clark, Jan Ziettlow and Anthony Zufelt for your friendship.
Thank you to Bryher Herak and MJ Williams for sprinkling art and beauty throughout my life, and for including me.
Thank you to Cory Kirsch, Rosemary Perna, Mike Moodry, and Erik Wilkerson for answering every single last-minute phone call I ever inflicted upon you, for your kindness, and for always making time for me, at the drop of a hat, whenever I needed.
Thank you to Ginger Kunz for talking me through complicated topics as though I were a golden retriever (which was extremely necessary), for your festive holiday outfits, and for feeding and watering me on election nights. Thank you to LaDana Hintz for also treating me like a golden retriever, and for your commitment to public service.
Thank you to Bruce and Christina Binkowski for rooting for me, caring for me, and helping me in all things The Monitor. Also, to Elizabeth Pullman, Stu and Lisa Goodner, Pat Lewis, and Rochelle and Mike Hesford, for exactly the same reasons.
Thank you to Dawn Smartnik, John and Nancy Heide, Jodi Smiley, Becky Beard, Marta Bertoglio, Nancy Jane Lien, Michelle St. George, Molly Carey, Darlene Moyer, Cheryl Haasaker, Barb Reiter, Roger Reynolds, Brian Bullock, Mechele Anderson, Connie Grenz, Tammy Burk, Leah Lewis, Mike Korn, Britton Mann, Anna Demars, Charlie Denison, Erin Ritchie, Sue Pullman, Bear Taylor, Bob Mullen, Dan Haggerty, Priscilla Hedgecock, Darby Minow-Smith and her incredible family, Melissa Kwasny, Dennis Wortman, Gary Craft, Tom Grimsrud and James Everett, Keith Foley, Samantha Yeary, Lindsey Hays, my dad, Shawn Reilley, and my mom, Kerry Reilley.
And, as always, thank you to you, for supporting The Monitor. This has been one of the most beautiful seasons of my life. I am so glad to have come here, and wish all of you the very best of lives.
