Editorial
By now you’ve heard the offer from Picton Gazette editor Ross Lees and you’re considering the possibilities. You and Carrie are newlyweds with a mortgage — and a baby on the way.
I’m telling you to trust your instincts and take the reporter/photographer job. Getting involved in community journalism will be the best decision you’ll ever make.
Having lived your whole life in Prince Edward County will be both a blessing and a curse. You’ll know the people you’re interviewing. Sources will never be more than a phone call away.
But your stories, probably around 7,000 all told, won’t all be of the feel-good variety. You’ll lose sleep over the hot-button issues. You’ll never be sure your coverage was fair.
That burning passion for getting things right and presenting a fulsome story sets you apart. By the end, folks will trust you got it right. Your byline means something.
There will be plenty of missteps along the way and you’ll take them all to heart. You’ll conflate the price of soybeans and the price of corn and you’ll hear about it. You’ll miss a name here or there.
Embrace that early scrutiny. It will help you build a tougher skin that will serve you better down the road. But a reporter’s is never an easy existence. Your deep connection to the community and your growing public profile will mean you always feel on. Even when you’d rather not.
I’m telling you now a trip to the grocery store and seeing someone’s mother or father after you’ve covered their child’s court appearance is as uncomfortable as you can imagine. You’ll cover murder trials. You’ll sit in a dear departed friend’s living room and bawl your eyes out as his parents tell you how he met his end on a roadway in Taiwan.
The love and support shown to the Stever family by this community after Matt’s death will only reinforce your decision to remain at part of it.
But knowing everyone and wearing many hats will put a best before date on your community journalism career, no matter how much you come to love the role of reporter.
From the Gazette archives, you’ll greatly revere Phil Dodds. His tenure in local print equates to Gordie Howe’s pro hockey career. But the hard truth is Mr. Dodds didn’t have to deal with the trolls of social media and a 24-hour news cycle. A different time, a different era.
Because you went to PECI and were in the final graduating class of the old Prince Edward County School Board, you’ll be a solid education writer. There will be plenty of familiar faces at the elementary schools and more than a few PECI teachers who helped shape you will take interest in your journalism career. They will welcome you back to Barker Street with open arms. In fact, they’ll like you so much that you’ll find yourself having lunch in the staff room once or twice a week. A surreal experience at first but you’ll soon see these are people who truly care about the children in our community. You’ll develop a deeper appreciation of teachers like Anne Van Vlack, Nigel Sivel, Paul Lockyer, Bob Bell and principals Larry Richardson and Dave McKay.
The same can be said for elementary teachers Ken How, Colleen Kelly, Gail Fox, and Mac Cirtwell. All of them have their fingerprints on your prose.
Because your father sat on Athol Township council, you’ll have a working knowledge of County politics. An amalgamated County is still in its infancy and you’ll have an opportunity to cover Shire Hall in an era of transition and beyond. Embrace the grind that comes with covering council; the readers count on you when the meetings drag on to midnight and beyond.
Because you were born there and it’s the only hospital you know, you’ll be a good health reporter and take a personal interest in both the House of Healing and the new Prince Edward County Memorial Hospital. The Quinte Health Care realm will be confusing at first. The acronyms alone will give you fits at the meetings and you won’t be sure your coverage is complete or even coherent and legible. But stick with it.
By the way, come hungry to QHC meetings. The post-session spreads are out of this world. The chicken caesar wraps are the best on the circuit.
Because you grew up on a farm, you’ll be the agriculture reporter. Accept that as an honour. You’ll treasure those conversations with farmers. They’ll become a family history lesson.
Aside from Boss Ross, there are more than a few people you’ll owe thanks to. You’ll come to appreciate those quiet news room conversations with colleagues Rick Fralick, Sean Tomlinson, Adam Bramburger, and Chad Ibbotson more and more as the years go by.
Nights and weekends will not be your own. A dedicated news hound is always ready to rush out the door with a camera when duty calls. Your career will interrupt more family suppers and nights out than can be counted.
Carrie and the kids will pay a price for your job choice. Full stop. Ross will warn you about the dangers of your family taking a back seat while you are chasing stories. Heed his words.
Meanwhile, mom will be your number one fan. She, more than anyone else, will read every single word and cheer you the whole way. Sometimes it will feel corny but never forget her support. It’s another key cog to spending two decades covering the news of the County.
The Gazette becomes a part of you and vice versa. You’ll stress over its operations and longevity in a news world so far removed from the one you cut your teeth in. But rest assured: the paper is in good hands with publishers Karen Valihora and Chris Fanning. Both are as passionate about community journalism as you are. When you leave the news room for the last time, you’ll know in your heart the Gazette is undergoing a most unlikely renaissance. It’s time for folks with fresh eyes and burning hearts to have their hands on the tiller.
Finally, there’s one person in this world who understands the toll this career will take on your mind and your soul. Other than family (and she becomes that along the way), she is the only one who will be there for every one of your professional highs and your lows.
When it comes time to depart the great Gazoo, you’ll have heart pangs thinking about a new professional adventures and her no longer a part of them.
Before you go, make sure you tell Karen Gyde how much she meant to you as a professional journalist and a valued co-worker.
Good luck. You’re about to pour your existence over the next 21 years into reporting the news to the readers of Prince Edward County. Take that responsibility. Relish every moment.
Jason Parks’s last day in The Picton Gazette newsroom is Friday 31 July, 2026.
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