EDITORIAL: Different, But Not In a Way Expected

With this being my “official” second paper, I’ve got to admit – not much has changed from when I worked here over a decade ago with Greg Corr. Greg and I shared the majority of the work, both of us writing and designing ads as needed, so that part isn’t different from my previous stint. However, what’s hit me the hardest this week is something I never thought of, something I wasn’t prepared for, and something I doubt I ever will be prepared for. And frankly, something I will never be able to keep a poker face on.

Receiving and reading, then editing and laying out the obituaries section this week, and presumably next week, and every week after, has hurt my heart so much. Ten years ago I didn’t really know the people in the obituaries, I proofed the copy, made sure the spelling was correct, then moved on to the next section. Now, these are people I know by sight and some I even call close friends. Even when I don’t know them, my heart breaks for the mother who has lost a son to a tragedy, the spouse who suddenly has to put together their loved one’s life in a few paragraphs, the grandparent who no longer has a grandchild. It was just part of the job back then – it is now a duty to provide the perfect final publication of these people’s lives. No typos, no mistakes.

I wrote my grandfather’s obituary when I was about 20 years old and I agonized over EVERY SINGLE WORD. I wanted everyone who read it to know who he was, what he believed in, how loved he was by all of his family, and how much we were going to miss him. It was a lot to tackle - it took me several days to get it just “right” and even then I had changes I wanted to make after its publication.

I will never forget that, and because of that memory, I know that this is what every person bringing in an obituary has done for their loved one as well. I have to make those words flow perfectly off this newspaper so everyone reading them remembers that person as they were and how they should be remembered.

I didn’t realize how touched I would be reading these last words, and having this responsibility.

This week I cried as I laid out the obituaries of Dan and Sarah Reum, whom I’ve known since basically the moment I moved to Montana. Both were so supportive of the community and everyone in it - their loss will be felt immensely.

Late last week I learned a gentle giant friend of mine, again whom I’ve known for two decades and who helped me in so many aspects of my life, passed. Early this week I found that one of my favorite Whitehall teachers, who only knew me for a few short months but made such an impact on me, passed. I will cry laying out their obituaries too I am sure. And everyone after that, even if I don’t know them.

Obituaries will never be charged for as long as I own the Whitehall Ledger and if I the space available, I will do everything I can to accommodate the photos to accompany the information. It’s the one thing I can do, as final moment of respect, to the people we call our neighbors, friends and family.