Silver Quill Award

Last Friday, I was honoured beyond words to receive the Silver Quill Award from the Alberta Weekly Newspapers Association (AWNA). This award recognizes 25 years of service in the newspaper industry. The award was presented during our Annual General Meeting in Edmonton, a place that has come to feel like a second home thanks to the people I have met and the purpose that drives us all. What made the moment truly unforgettable was not the certificate, the applause, or the speeches. It was the man who nominated me.

Frank McTighe, editor and publisher of the Fort Macleod Gazette, is a legend in Alberta journalism. He is the heartbeat of his community’s storytelling, a tenacious reporter, and someone I have admired from the moment I stepped into this world. That he would take the time to nominate me - me! - for this honour left me speechless, and if you know me, you will know that is no small feat. To be recognized is one thing. To be recognized by the person you respect most in the industry is another entirely.

When I began at the Crowsnest Pass Herald in 1999, it was not for glory or awards. It was for my family. I wanted a life that let me be present for my children. Keiran, Aiden, and Quinn have always been my world, my greatest joy, my deepest motivation. Journalism was a path that allowed me to be both a committed parent and a passionate community builder. Somehow that job has evolved from telling stories to defending the very future of community news.

The newspaper landscape of today is unrecognizable compared to when I started. We are fighting uphill battles: against tech giants, misinformation, dwindling ad dollars, and the false narrative that local journalism no longer matters. I now find myself not only editing and publishing, but advocating, lobbying, and leading. Being re-elected president of the AWNA at the same AGM where I received the Silver Quill only underscored the responsibility I feel to ensure this industry survives, not just for me but for every corner of this province that depends on its local paper to reflect its identity, hold power accountable, and build community.

None of this would have been possible without the people who believed in me long before I believed in myself.

My mother, also a Silver Quill recipient, taught me resilience and grace. She would be so proud today. She always called the Crowsnest Pass her Garden of Eden, a place she cherished and that I now fight for every single day. And Buddy. Oh, Buddy. My biggest fan and a Golden Quill recipient. My rock. My cheerleader through every editorial crisis, broken printer, late night deadline, and hard-earned victory. I miss him more than words can ever say. If he were here, I know his pride would eclipse even my own. He believed in me when I did not even know what I was becoming. And I carry that belief with me every day.

This Silver Quill is not just about me. It represents 25 years of stories told and truths pursued for me, and 95 years of dedicated local news from the Herald, serving the heart of this community. It is about the children I raised while laying out pages at midnight. It is about the friends, family, and colleagues who lifted me higher than I ever dreamed. And it is about a deep, unshakeable love for community journalism, the kind of journalism that still matters, even when the world says it does not.

And to the little moments, sticky notes from Buddy on the office wall, coffee left on my desk during deadline week, a headline that made someone feel seen, this is what endures. This is why I stayed. This is why I fight. Because in the end, it was never just about the paper. It was about love, for my family, my community, and the stories that connect us all.

So here is to 25 years. To the Herald. To the Pass. To the people who have stood by me. And to the battles still to come, because I am just getting started.