Shortly after setting up on the baseline with my notepad and camera at a Roxboro Community School basketball game, a cheerleader tapped me on the shoulder.

 

“Are you a journalist?” she asked, as if I were a mythological creature. 

 

A warm feeling rushed over me as I answered, “Yes, I’m trying to be.”

 

I’ve centered my identity around being a journalist for the better part of a decade, which is a large chunk of my 24-year-old life.  

 

I vividly remember Ethan Joyce, the former Appalachian State beat writer for the Winston-Salem Journal who I admire, stressing to a group of student journalists the importance of finding and maintaining an identity outside of the career.

 

I’ve tried my best to heed his advice, but it’s hard.

 

The amount of energy and effort I believe our craft requires makes a life outside of full-time journalism difficult to maintain, especially with a reserved personality in a new small town.

 

My roots are in Fountain, the peak of Pitt County, an hour east of Raleigh almost exactly between Wilson and Greenville—smackdab in the middle of everywhere, as my dad likes to say. 

 

There’s one stoplight in Fountain and fewer than 400 residents. 

 

There’s a delicious soul food place, Carol’s Home Cooking, a post office and a relatively recent Dollar General. 

 

My parents run a unique concert venue out of the old general store in downtown Fountain. The towering old brick structure was originally constructed and run by the namesake of the town, Mr. R.A. Fountain, during the heyday of the East Carolina Railway that connected rural farmland in the coastal plains to economic centers of the region. 

 

I’ve decided to leave my post as Sports Editor of The Courier-Times to return to my Fountain roots and help out with the family business at a relaxed pace, free from urgency and deadlines. 

 

This is the hardest choice I’ve ever made.

 

I love telling stories, I love sports and I love the freedom and wisdom Editor and Publisher Kelly Snow gave me throughout my tenure. 

 

I love watching the youth athletes develop, succeed and make history. 

 

I love hanging out with coaches, players and fans. I love seeing kids post pictures I took. 

 

I love the hot dogs from Cole’s Pharmacy and the smiling faces across the street from the office at 1792 Beer Co.

 

I love the way Person County supports its people. 

 

I loved sports journalism when I got my first taste of it covering my high school, Farmville Central, for a startup publication opened by a member of my church in Fountain. 

 

I loved it as I devoted four years earning my journalism degree with the goal of continuing to love it as a full time job. 

 

This love is genuine. It’s what made my decision to move on from a community I’ve grown to love so difficult. 

 

I’ve learned exponentially in my time at The C-T. The paper is essential to the sense of community and is rare in that it remains family-owned and outside the grip corporations have on the industry. 

 

Growing up, I loved reading Sports Illustrated when it arrived at our house each week. I loved imagining what it would be like to interview LeBron James or sit in the press box during the World Series.

 

Sports Illustrated, the dream job for generations of young sportswriters including me, published content generated by artificial intelligence last year. 

 

In January, mass layoffs rocked Sports Illustrated and the journalism world. 

With SI’s light dimming so much, the future of the industry feels darker than ever, but it’s not just at the national level. 

 

The Farmville Enterprise covered my high school tennis matches. It’s gone now. 

 

The News & Record in South Boston, Va. closed in November. 

 

Last March, Andrew Carter of The News & Observer wrote a chilling column about how the Greensboro News & Record’s coverage of the ACC Tournament has dwindled into a shell of the shining example it set for decades.  

 

According to data from the Medill School of Journalism at Northwestern University, nearly 2,900 U.S. newspapers have closed since 2005 and roughly 43,000 newspaper journalists, or almost two-thirds of the industry, lost their jobs since then. 

 

As a single guy living alone in Roxboro, coming home to an empty house after working late nights wasn’t fun. 

 

Too often, it seemed, I felt stressed about finishing all I’d hoped to in time for the next edition. It became harder and harder to enjoy the rigors of the work I always thought I’d love.

 

Now, as hard as it has been to reckon with, moving on from working in the industry full time, at least for now, feels like a necessary step.

 

I’m nervously excited about having more free time to spend with loved ones and to figure out what I really want in life—and how journalism fits in. 

 

Writing and photography are important parts of what I hope my future will include, along with lots of new places, people and stories. 

 

As I transition back to where my roots are planted, I want to thank the people of Person County for all the time, perspective and knowledge they shared with me. 

 

The relationships and memories I made here will always be part of who I am. 

 

I’ll especially miss our Staff Writer and my C-T Recap podcast partner, George Willoughby, and our after-work routine of meeting at my place before riding up to Mayo Lake to soak some line and occasionally catch a fish. I’ll miss being asked if we’re brothers. 

 

I’ll miss our Advertising Specialist, Lea Russell, and her relaxed-but-no-nonsense vibe and extensive knowledge of the best restaurants and attractions around. I’ll think of her next time I eat a Shaka Taco or stroll down Serenity Point on Topsail Island. 

 

I’ll miss our Front Office Manager, Tylea Conklin, and how calmly she deals with everything thrown her way. I’ll miss her son, Parker, for adding some youthful joy to our workplace. 

 

I’ll miss the athletes and coaches who welcomed me and made me comfortable. I’ll cherish the memories we made. 

 

From the bottom of my heart, thank you Person County. You’ll always be special to me.