At the first Thanksgiving, the pilgrims at Plymouth Rock celebrated a feast thanking God for their newfound home and for bringing them safely there.
This year, in the spirit of the holiday’s origins, I too am thankful for a new home and the journey to get here over the last year.
I have so much to be thankful for this year, so strap in. If anyone set an over/under on my use of the word thankful here, I hope you all took the over.
Ten days ago, I began a new job at The Courier-Tribune in Asheboro, North Carolina, leaving The Clayton Tribune in Rabun County, Georgia after 14 months on the job there.
I am so thankful to The Courier-Tribune for this excellent opportunity to advance my career, allowing me to move to a daily newspaper in a bigger market and giving me the chance to cover sports at a larger set of high schools, with some college sports mixed in too. I’m thankful they think enough of me to bring me back — I interned with them in the summer of 2016.
But perhaps the best part of moving to Asheboro is being closer to home and my family. I’m closer to my parents in South Carolina, but I’m now very close to my grandmother and much of my extended family in central North Carolina. I’m thankful to be within a 30-minute drive of such important people in my life, especially after being three to four hours away (depending on where I lived) for the last nine years since my parents and I moved to South Carolina.
Even as I’ve left Clayton, I’m thankful for the opportunity I had there. I very much enjoyed my time there and it was a great position to allow me to familiarize myself with the industry while covering high school sports (and even a little bit of news too) at a weekly newspaper in the beautiful northeast Georgia mountains. I developed some incredible relationships in Rabun County while getting the treat of covering three successful high school athletics programs.
And just as the pilgrims were grateful for reaching Plymouth Rock safely, I’m thankful I made it through possibly the toughest six months of my life earlier this year.
While my time at The Clayton Tribune was incredible, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t without some bumps.
During the holiday season of 2017 our editor and our publisher left within a month of each other — a tough time anywhere but a major blow at a small weekly paper — and me and one other young reporter, my friend and then-roommate Tommy Culkin (who has since taken his own excellent opportunity in Texas), were left to keep the paper running (at least from the editorial side) for two months before reinforcements could arrive.
It was a baptism by fire, a stressful time full of some long nights on deadline day and more weight on my shoulders than I felt I was capable of bearing.
But now, on the other end of it, I have come to be thankful for the positive aftereffects of this. I am a better journalist from learning how to do the job under that kind of pressure, and I’m now better-equipped to maintain composure when the job gets hectic.
During the turnover in Clayton, I lost both of my grandfathers in a 90-day span. Of course I miss them both, but I’ve also come to appreciate the influence of their lives on mine. I’m thankful to have known them both for 23 years, for both of them to have lived long, productive lives (84 and 90 years) and the comfort through my faith of knowing they’re truly in a better place.
I’ve said a lot in this space, but I’m really just scratching the surface on what I’m thankful for this year.
I’m actually working this Thanksgiving Day — somebody has to get the paper out, and it’s falling to the new guy — but it doesn’t bother me in the least.
One reason is because I’m reaping the advantages of being much closer to family by taking a long lunch break to go enjoy our meal.
But beyond that, I’ve reached a point in my life I don’t need to set aside a day to give thanks.
I’m so grateful, for all of the above and more, that every day is Thanksgiving Day.