This is production day.
Have to put the paper together for tomorrow’s printing deadline. This is always a tense day—well, not
always. There are times when the paper
almost writes and assembles itself.
Today was not one of those days.
Today we had several issues to juggle.
First was the fact that this was Evolene’s first real
reporting for The Shoreline. I think she
did very well. Nice front page piece of
several columns about the end of the
summer season and the transition that The Harbour goes through during the week
after Labour Day. Some lively interviews
with local business owners about their summer season sales and what that means
for the future. Seems most of the retail
stores here did very well this summer, helped by an unbelievable stretch of
hot, sunny weather, and an influx of visitors who had room on their credit
cards. She did a great job of eliciting
quotes, and capturing the mostly upbeat mood.
Ev also produced a solid half page article that is a
reworked version of her chicken little—the lumber sky is falling draft—that I
vetoed. I’m impressed that she took my
criticism as a professional, and transformed a doomsday interpretation into
something that locals can read without either being terrified or flying into a
rage. She’s managed to get across the
critical need for the mill to transform itself to compete in the current market,
without creating the impression that it’s current state is unsalvageable.
Very happy with all of this.
Looks like she’ll be a real asset to the Shoreline and the community.
However, despite all of this upbeat stuff, I’m left at the
end of this day with a niggling concern precipitated by a short conversation I
had this afternoon while I was up at Ev’s cabin, picking her up so she didn’t
have to ride her bike down to the office in the rain.
Sitting in my pickup, I noticed that Mrs. Snow was sitting
on her porch. This is a wonderful woman,
the matriarch of our community, who has over the years be more than supportive
and generous to virtually everyone who lives here. I got out of the truck and
ran through the rain to say hello. Mrs.
Snow was gracious as ever, and asked after the paper Butkus. We chatted for a few minutes about the
weather and the coming winter. It was
then that I asked how Jason was doing.
Jason is Mrs. Snow’s son. He left
The Harbour almost 15 years ago to attend university, and went on to a
successful career in finance and property development. When I asked about Jason, Mrs. Snow’s face
changed; took on a darkness. All she
said was “I wish Jason had stayed here.
I wish he understood the importance of the mill to this community. I wish he would listen to me.”
Just then Evolene came out of her cabin. I bid Mrs. Snow a good afternoon, and
left. But for the rest of the day, I
couldn’t stop he words from running through my mind. What is her disagreement with Jason? What might her concern mean for Midden
Harbour?
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