Stories about people. Stories about places.
Stories that matter.

When I tell people – often strangers or new acquaintances – what I do for a living, there is generally a question that follows that I find a little...hard to answer.
“What type of stories do you like writing?” they ask.
I know the answer, don't misunderstand. But I'm often not prepared to spend several minutes explaining it. So instead, I give a quick rehash of what sort of news I tend to report on.
They nod as I recount that I cover events, that I write about local politics, that I report on education and athletics in the school system. I cover grand openings of businesses and document issues that need law enforcement or fire rescue involvement in order to be resolved.
I've stayed late for spelling bees and Friday night games. I've logged long hours at government board and council meetings.
My camera is full of pictures taken of house fires, school festivities, smiling faces at parades and historic structures of note.
There are many things I write on and enjoy writing about, but if I answered with the type of story I prefer to tell, it would be a much longer conversation.
Recently, I was at a Tallahassee thrift store when I found a precious treasure trove – a whole row of National Geographic magazines. Their yellow spines bore a sticker that told me that each was only 99 cents (I brought home at least eight). I found a chair and drew it near the bookshelf and pawed through the magazines, some of which were almost 20 years old.
Sitting in that thrift store, looking through the photos, reading bits and pieces of the stories, I felt a strange tug on my heart.
“This,” I thought, “is the type of stories I like telling.”
Not National Geographic stories, but stories of people and places – stories that make people care. Stories that, in some form or another matter and connect us to places we have never been and people we have never met.
When I write a feature about a local person, tell their life story and document their personal achievements, it is my hope that those who read that story find themselves caring more about the person who was the focus of my pen (or, as is the case in this modern age, my keyboard).
If I write about a local parade, I want people to be able to close their eyes and hear the drum lines of the marching band or feel the shared excitement that ripples through the air whenever a group of people gather to watch and participate in something together.
I want my stories to excite, give wonder and expand the interests of my readers, just as the National Geographic stories make me want to explore the world, experience forgotten cultures and understand the history or science behind a topic I previously knew nothing about.
It seems like every time I open an edition of the National Geographic, my mind is expanded – and that is the gift I want others to experience when they read my features and view my photography.
I work in a newspaper, so that's not always possible. There will always be recalls to write, crime to report on and misfortunate to document – such is the way. But the stories that I write which are optimistic, that have the opportunity to charm and delight and inspire – I want them to do all those things.
If you are a subscriber to our newspaper, it is likely that you recently received a magazine in your mailbox this week. This magazine, titled The Front Porch, is the production of ECB Publishing and Greene Publishing – our office and our Madison County sister office.
(If you did not receive a magazine, just stop by our office and we will gladly give you a complimentary copy.)
If you have this magazine in your possession, you will find a feature article written by yours-truly on a very special Jefferson County organization. This organization seeks to preserve several species of exotic and endangered birds and mammals – it's not a zoo, but a refuge for species that face extinction.
I had the honor of writing about them and photographing some of their center's beautiful birds and animals (I also got to have a critically endangered Black and White Ruffed lemur sit on my shoulder, which was an incredibly special experience).
This story was incredibly important to me. I love animals, and writing this story about a little-known organization that is working very hard to preserve endangered animals was a magical, beautiful joy. Then, to see that story printed and laid out on the glossy page...I'm not going to lie, I felt for a brief moment like a National Geographic writer myself.
I strongly encourage you to crack open your 2019 Winter Edition of The Front Porch magazine and delve into the beautiful stories we have prepared. While I love mine, my story isn't the only one worth mentioning – there is a detailed history of square dancing in the North Florida/South Georgia region, the success stories of eight powerful movers and doers in the Big Bend area, the musically-inspired story of a South Georgia orchestra and brilliant in-color photos of Suwannee County taking during the hours when most people are sleeping in their beds.
All of these stories matter. Our newspapers and magazine work very hard to balance out the inevitable negative that occurs with plenty of beautiful good. I love that when you open our publications - paper or magazine - you are likely to find heartfelt stories of good people and good deeds. Whether you live in Jefferson County or not, I enjoy writing stories that make you feel a part of our community, or at least feel as though you know the people, the community and the value of this small, rural county that stretches from Georgia to the gulf.
So, to answer that question – what sort of stories do I like telling?
Answer: Stories about people. Stories about places. Stories that matter.