A place in the community

It’s rather hard to believe that I have, officially, been working for the Saratoga Sun for one year. I remember being anxious the night before and being even more anxious as I waited outside the office in my car. I had no idea if I would do well, if anyone would enjoy reading what I wrote or if I would even find my place in the community. Now, a year later, I’m still anxious and still nervous, but at least I know that people are reading what I write. I’ve had people approach me when I’m out and about to inform me that they liked, or didn’t like, something I wrote.

I am very appreciative of that.

I’ve also received emails from people who have read my writing and wanted to tell me what they thought. It may sound vain, but I print these emails off and keep them in a folder in my desk that I call my “Good Vibes Folder.” On days when I’m doubting my writing ability, and those days are more often than I would like to admit, I turn to this folder and I look through what people have written to me about my writing. I have an email from the General Manager of the Rawlins Times, Kellie Nicholson, in that folder. I also have an email from Carol States, telling me how much she enjoyed that I was “speaking my truth.”

I have an email from Rod Miller, the bearded and bespectacled primary challenger to Liz Cheney, in which he tells me “I can smell a bad reporter from a mile off, and you ain’t even close.”

All of these pieces of correspondence are things that keep me going whenever my doubts are at their strongest. If any of you who have sent me letters or emails are reading this, please know that I appreciate the support and the kind words more than you may ever know.

My intent in this column, however, is not to boast or brag about my “Good Vibes Folder.” In the year since I’ve been at the paper, I honestly feel like I’ve rediscovered my place in this community. While I am a graduate of Saratoga, just a few years before it turned to Saratoga Middle/High School, I found myself quickly accepted by Encampment shortly after starting with the Sun. My son currently attends the preschool in Encampment and will be attending school there next year.

This brings me to finding my place in this community. As working parents, Telitha and I rely on family a lot of times to watch Jareth. My mother-in-law is often the one that takes my son to and from school and is the first to hear about his day. My father is always more than willing to watch Jareth in the 30 minute time period between my leaving for town council meetings and Telitha getting off work at the library. There are times, however, that it is almost easier to take Jareth with me to a game or a meeting.

When I took him to his first volleyball game, I had no idea how I was going to juggle keeping an eye on him while also taking photos of the student athletes. Thanks to Mary Martin and Ryan and Karen Buford, I didn’t have to worry for long as they were more than happy to hang out with Jareth during the game — and he enjoyed it, too! When I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, take him to a volleyball game, in fact, he was angry with me.

Now, volleyball is over and we are in basketball season. My son was more than willing to attend the Carbon County Classic at the start of the season. As we walked in, one of his classmates yelled his name from the top of the bleachers. Jareth, off like a rocket, headed up the bleachers to join his friend, a few other children, and his friend’s mother. With a smile on her face, she told me that she was fine watching Jareth for a little while.

Fast forward to the weekend before the Saratoga Ice Fishing Derby, where I ventured out to Treasure Island pond to cover Mother Mountain Anglers’ Kids’ Ice Fishing Clinic. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to take the company vehicle, a GMC Envoy, on this outing as it was in the shop. Instead, I drove my personal vehicle, a Chevy Malibu, down to the pond. Getting down was the easy part. It was getting out that was difficult.

Following a fun morning of taking photos of kids catching fish, I began my attempt to head home. The snow was deep and my car didn’t have the clearance to break trail to get turned around so I ended up stuck.

“Oh great,” I thought to myself, “everyone’s going to look at the newspaper guy and laugh because he got stuck.”

As I was literally spinning my wheels, however, I was proven wrong as Bob Keel came to help me get the car in motion and I backed out through the established trail. I thought that my embarrassment was finished with and all it would take was a good push of my gas pedal to get me back on the main road and headed home.

Wrong!

While I had been able to ride the median of the two-track down to the pond, I found myself unable to do the same heading up. Every attempt I made to get up out of the established path and on the dirt proved unsuccessful. Even worse, vehicles were starting to form a line as they were wanting to leave as well. Again, Bob Keel came to the rescue.

Following an extensive examination of my car for a tow hook, there were none found, both myself and Bob tried repeatedly to hit the gas and get the car onto the main road. In the meantime, we let those waiting pass. Others came to my rescue as well. Shannon Fagan, Bill Craig, Jim Beckmann and another half dozen people helped me get my car onto the main road.

I expressed my extreme gratitude to everyone who helped, stuck around to see if another car needed help out, and headed on my way. Any continued doubts I had about having a place in this community were long gone. Nobody made fun of the “newspaper guy” getting stuck, but pitched in to help and I am so very thankful for that.

To each and every person in this community who has, and continues to, reassure through me through their actions that I do have a place in this community; thank you. The newspaper has a place in the community, but I have discovered the people who work here do also.

It feels good.