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I’ve been taught not to bury the lead, so here it is: My last day at the Times-Journal will be Oct. 5. I have been holding that information close for the past two weeks, but the three-legged cat is out of the bag now.

If you're interested in submitting a Letter to the Editor, click here.

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I work for you as the editor of this community newspaper, but I don’t necessarily answer to you.

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The Times-Journal recently took home a number of awards at the annual Alabama Press Association Better Newspaper Contest.

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I never realized just how nosy of a person I could be until I started this job.

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I always used to love the Fourth of July as a kid.

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I usually don’t choose to voluntarily scare myself, but you just got to indulge every now and then.

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Last week I tweeted that “97 percent of my life is just showing up places and acting like I belong there.” That’s clearly a joke, but there’s definitely some truth to it.

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I got a strange call Thursday morning. You know that feeling when you hear something and it doesn’t quite register at first? It was one of those moments.

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They released the past year’s Pulitzer Prize winners on Monday — sadly, my name has been omitted for the fourth-straight time.

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I remember the day that re-affirmed for me that I had made the right decision and chosen the right career. I think about it a lot, actually. But, it is fitting now considering that Wednesday was the 50th anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr.

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Last week was Sunshine Week, and this column probably should’ve run then. Whatever, though. We all get busy sometimes.

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I hope you’ve noticed over the past six — now seven — issues the different sections we’ve had within our newspaper.

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On Friday I attended the Alabama Press Association Media Summit, and it made me feel good about the future of journalism.

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You’ll notice in today’s paper that I had to run a cartoon of Nick Saban celebrating the Tide’s national title Monday. There’s also some game coverage in today’s edition and we’ll have a full flashback section in Saturday’s issue.

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I remember the blizzard of 1993. I was born in September of 1989, so I was a toddler, but trust me, I remember.

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I’ve tried to make it through this U.S. Senate Special Election circus without writing a column about it, but I covered it from start to finish, and I only feel like it’s fitting to write something today.

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Editor’s note: The column below originally ran in a December 2015 edition of the Sand Mountain Reporter in Albertville.

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I guess we’re finally in the Christmas season now since Thanksgiving has come and gone, but it just doesn’t feel like it for me yet.

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I remember when I first came to Fort Payne about two years ago — I’ve actually been talking about this all day because of the Fort Payne Career Fair, so it’s fresh on my mind — and I just didn’t know how I was going to be able to make a switch from a three-day-a-week paper to a daily newspaper.

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I remember the first day of an advanced reporting class in college like it was yesterday. It was the most dreaded moment of the semester where the instructor makes you go around the room and tell a bit about yourself.

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My brother turned 30 on Tuesday. I used to constantly joke with him about how old he was, and now he’s been alive for three decades. I’m going to rub this in for as long as I can.

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I got a text from my brother, Daniel, last week, and he told me that he was going to spend time in a sensory deprivation tank on Saturday. I thought he was joking.

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I got a text from my brother, Daniel, last week, and he told me that he was going to spend time in a sensory deprivation tank on Saturday. I thought he was joking.

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I only learned about the 2017 solar eclipse, like, five months ago, but I know people who have been planning for the occasion for more than a decade.

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I’m thankful for the First Amendment.

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There’s one thing I’ve learned working for community newspapers, and that’s that people are not afraid to tell you what they think about you. 

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I walked into my apartment complex yesterday afternoon after a long day at work, and as I rounded the corner there was this smell that just punched me in the face — it was a good one, don’t worry. 

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I remember having a conversation with a friend of mine who was a writer at AL.com, and we were talking about stories we had written that past week.

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My mind wanders a lot, and sometimes I just like to let it go.