When I was raking leaves in our front yard at six years old, my grandfather rested his large, heavy hand on my shoulder and said, “I like that you’re a hard worker and that you never quit.” I adored him, so his comments warmed me while we were outside in what I’m sure was 55-degree weather. More than three decades later, that South Dakota memory remains vivid, which illustrates how much his philosophies continue to shape my life.
During my early 20s, I was the sole employee of a weekly newspaper in the Black Hills. I created story ideas (and assigned the stories to myself); photographed events; sold advertisements; tracked new subscriptions; designed the newspaper; and yes, delivered the newspaper to area businesses. The newspaper publishers, who lived in a nearby town, learned I was staying up all night to complete these tasks. One evening, they knocked on my apartment door and asked me to consider a reporter role at one of their other newspapers. I was horrified. I asked, “You want me to QUIT?!” They responded, “We don’t want you to quit; we want you to try an easier job. We think maybe you don’t have enough experience for this job. You’re young, and this is a big role.”