Nearly two and a half years ago, back in November of 2020, I was a very dazed and confused young man, that much is for sure. At that time the world was in the throes of the worst pandemic since the Spanish Flu, the entire country felt like it was going insane for one reason or another, and I’d just started at the University of Nevada back in the spring only to get pulled back out halfway through because of all that chaos, leaving my head spinning and my grades plummeting. At the same time, I was running out of money but had no idea who or where would hire me when most places were closed. As if my question was answered, my sweet mother Jen got a message from a longtime family friend who’d come out of a well-earned retirement to run a historic newspaper. Yes, that was our beloved friend Carl Butz, and he was in dire need of help – someone who could help him take a load off by doing the weekly paper route from Feather Publishing in Quincy over to Calpine and Sierraville, where they’d meet him to exchange papers for the remaining leg to Downieville and Grass Valley. I was reluctant at first, but pretty quickly got into the swing of things – “damn, this newspaper gig isn’t so bad!”. And so began a more than two-year-long journey with the Mountain Messenger, a publication renowned principally for two things – being the oldest continuously-published weekly newspaper in California, and the highly entertaining editorial style of Carl’s predecessor, Don Russell. Through rain and sun and sleet and smoke (and believe me, there was a lot of smoke), I dodged landslides and wildfires alike to make sure the paper got through for the better part of a year. But all good things must come to an end, and UNR returning to in-person classes called me back to Reno full-time. Undeterred, Carl decided he didn’t want to lose me just yet, and so he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. After I returned to UNR, I took on a new responsibility as the Messenger’s assistant editor, helping make sure things were in order with the drafts for the paper every week. As 2021 became 2022, this responsibility grew and evolved to include actual reporting, and I must admit I had the time of my life covering local events, the 2022 elections, and so much more for the next year. The essay above is one heck of a way to hard-launch my retirement from the paper, now isn’t it? Yes, sadly, I must confirm that the rumors are true – at the start of April, I’ll be departing the Mountain Messenger over two years after Carl hired me as a delivery driver, and moving to Chester to pursue a new career as a seasonal forester for the Collins Pine Company. Sadly this means you won’t be seeing me at local events, won’t be seeing me interview people for next year’s elections, and won’t be reading my articles in future editions of the Mess. Yet with all that said, there’s still so much to see here. The future is bright at 313 Main Street in Downieville, with fantastic coverage from both Carl and his fine new hires Sandy Sanders and Angela Shannon. And of course, we’ll still have all our columnists – Lenny Ackerman’s entertaining Here Back East, Paul Guffin’s ever-informative On The Shelf, Tessa Jackson’s hype-fueled sports column and Katie O’Hara’s beloved North Yuba Naturalist. And don’t overlook the historical section on page eight either; the past should inform how we choose to shape our future, after all. And with all that said…in the long run, I’ll more likely than not be back at some point. Maybe it’ll be next year, maybe a few years from now, maybe even a decade down the line, but writing on local issues and events is pretty enjoyable. So maybe someday, when I have a little more time on my hands, you’ll see another one of my articles grace these pages. Take care, friends, and safe
travels. Until next time, this is
Duncan K., signing off.