The Last Hurrah
Departing community reporter will miss the big personalities she has encountered
From the famous words of the late John Denver, I’m leaving, on a jet plane. Well, the plane bit is in a few months, but the leaving part is imminent. After 15 years working as a community reporter, I have been made redundant, and am very sorry to be packing my bags and departing the office.
I’m not a great one for “things happen for a reason’ or “it was meant to be”, etc. I’m more of a “it is, what it is” type of person. So — so be it — and all that jazz.
One door closes — and maybe with a slight slam this time — a nod to the times which are a-changing around us. And who knows which door may swing open in the future.
For now it’s hard not to look back and remember the thousands of people I have come in touch with over the years.
Without sounding cliche, it has been a privilege to be a voice for people and to tell their stories, discovering the hidden gems in our community and at times championing their cause. I’ve also
It has been a privilege to be a voice for people and to tell their stories.
Brenda Vowden
managed to sneak almost every family member — and a few pets — into a story here and there, and to throw my long-suffering husband under a bus or two along the way.
When I started this job, which was by word of mouth from my neighbour’s son’s best friend’s wife (true story) who worked at the Napier Courier and was leaving, there were three of us running the ship — well two-and-a-half (I was the half), to be precise.
Over the years, systems changed, people left, we moved offices, and before you know it, I was holding the tiller.
As with most workplaces, people come and people go, faces change, systems upgrade.
Working in a newsroom is a busy and often noisy place, with breaking news and local events unfolding before your eyes, but it’s the little things and the big personalities I will miss.
The uproarious laughter at the lunch table, people heating their leftover fish in the microwave and getting a good-natured ribbing for it, frustrated outbursts and clever quips in response, the shrill slam of the bell on the counter, not to mention the best boss a girl could ask for and, of course, those fantastic morning teas.
I’ve written about knitting groups, cycling groups, women’s motorbike groups, tattooists, natural healers, woodturners, Taekwondo fighters, dragon boat racers, dancers, skaters, Quakers, anti-scam experts — you name it, we have so much diversity just outside our own doors.
I’ve met so many fabulous people toiling away in our neighbourhoods who have such interesting stories to tell. I hope I bump into a few of you along the way.
So I will try to slink off on my final day, this time without my laptop slung over my shoulder or my trusty work phone in my bag — a lighter load to see me off down the road to somewhere else.