Some weekends do more than fill the streets. They fill the soul.
Memorial Day weekend in Grants Pass has a way of doing that. Somewhere between the crowds, the conversations, the handshakes, the hugs, the laughter, and the familiar faces, I was reminded of something I probably needed to feel again: this newspaper is worth every hard day it takes to keep it alive.
Owning and operating a newspaper is not some polished dream where every morning begins with coffee, headlines, and applause. Some days, it is pressure. Some days, it is financial stress, political noise, public attacks, unanswered questions, late nights, and the constant weight of knowing that if you do not keep pushing, certain stories may never be told. There are days when it can feel overwhelming beyond words.
Then a weekend like this comes along.
A reader recognizes you. A stranger becomes a friend in the middle of a sidewalk. Someone reaches out a hand, looks you in the eye, and says thank you. Someone else skips the handshake altogether and pulls you in for a hug. That kind of moment does not just pass by. It stays with you.
I know some people may not expect to see me out in public very often. That is fair. I am not hiding behind this newspaper, and I never have been. I am simply a homebody by nature. I like my yard. I like quiet. I like golf. I like working behind the scenes, building something that matters without needing to be the loudest person in the room.
But every now and then, I step out from behind the desk and into the community this newspaper serves. This weekend, I did just that. And I am glad I did.
To those who stopped me, thanked me, shook my hand, hugged me, or simply shared a kind word, please know this: it meant more than you probably realized. I was raised to shake hands, look people in the eye, and treat people like people. I am also a hugger. Men, women, young, old, it makes no difference to me. That is not politics. That is not performance. That is just who I am.
This newspaper is not a machine. It is not some distant corporate publication parachuting into Southern Oregon to tell people what they should care about. It is local. It is personal. It is built by people who live here, work here, struggle here, and believe this community deserves a voice.
Yes, we cover politics. Yes, we dig into corruption. Yes, we ask uncomfortable questions, and yes, we will continue doing that without apology. Accountability matters. Transparency matters. Public officials work for the people, and this newspaper will not pretend otherwise.
But that is not the whole story of who we are.
This newspaper was built for community.
It was built for the small business owner trying to survive another month. It was built for the veteran who feels forgotten. It was built for the waitress, the mechanic, the coach, the student, the parent, the volunteer, the musician, the food vendor, the young racer, the old Marine, the tired farmer, the hopeful dreamer, and the neighbor who quietly does good without ever asking for credit.
Those are the stories I want more of.
So, here is my request to the community: keep sending them. Send us the stories that make Southern Oregon feel alive. Send us the stories about people helping people, businesses taking risks, kids doing something remarkable, families overcoming something hard, and neighbors showing up when nobody else would.
We will continue covering the hard stories. We will continue going down the political rabbit holes when the public interest requires it. But do not ever mistake that for the whole purpose of this newspaper.
The purpose is people.
This Memorial Day weekend reminded me that I am not alone in this fight. This newspaper is not just me. It is a team, a community, a collection of readers, supporters, contributors, advertisers, tipsters, and everyday people who still believe local news matters.
From myself and everyone behind this newspaper, thank you. Thank you for the hugs. Thank you for the handshakes. Thank you for the kind words. Thank you for reminding me why this work matters.
Have a happy, meaningful, and safe Memorial Day weekend. And while we enjoy the company, the food, the events, and the freedom to gather together, may we never forget the men and women who gave everything so the rest of us could stand here today.
Semper Fi