COLUMN: Head west, they say

This column came together probably as quickly as my decision to move from Columbus, Ohio, to Moses Lake. When I graduated from Denison University in May 2024, I remember being overcome with emotion after receiving my degree.  

I was a first-generation student who had to grow up faster than expected and suddenly found himself qualified to be a journalist. The prospect of starting my career in this field excited me. One of the most rewarding aspects of this work, no matter the beat, is the positive impact it can have on a community. 

However, nothing could have prepared me for the challenge of getting my foot in the door. I had a lease for an apartment starting in August 2024 and needed to find work fast. After several applications being denied, or more often getting no response at all, I found myself working as a scheduler in the thoracic oncology clinic at Ohio State.

If you could imagine what that probably did to my outlook on my future, you wouldn’t be far off from what I was feeling at the time. However, it paid the bills. Nevertheless, I persisted and continued looking for an opportunity. Much of the same continued where I applied for jobs and internships, but was ultimately denied or never received a response. 

Toward the end of February, I had received two emails that told me they were no longer considering my application. As I climbed into bed filled with disappointment and slight hopelessness, I decided to pull my laptop out and make a list of every reporter job I could realistically apply for – I came up with 50. I saw that as 50 reasons to remain hopeful.

One of the job postings I saved was the one for the job I have now, a sports reporter for the Columbia Basin Herald in Moses Lake, Wash. I had always wanted to see what the Pacific Northwest looked like. Within a few days of applying, I received a call from Rob Miller – known to most readers as R. Hans Miller – asking to set up an interview for later in the week.

That call alone felt like the biggest win. After the interview, I felt good about how I presented myself. Hopefully, Rob agrees.

He told me he’d let me know in a couple of days if we would do a second interview. Within a few hours he had called me to set up another interview. This was the furthest I had gotten with any job application, so naturally, I leaped at the opportunity.

The second interview comes and goes, and Rob tells me he’d let me know the next day on a decision. However, once again he called me only a couple of hours later, asking if I’d like a job.

Without hesitation, I accepted. Within a week, I went from somewhat hopeless to having a job in my field. Just when I think life doesn’t move that fast, it sometimes does.

It took a few days to realize that at a moment's notice, I had decided to leave everything I had ever known and move somewhere I had never been – all by myself. I had two months to arrange my housing, how I was going to move all of my belongings and the best ways to avoid a cat peeing in your car. Disposable litter boxes are the answer.

Anywho, the end of April arrived in the blink of an eye. My cat Cletus and I hit the road and headed west. While he slept in the back seat, I got us through nine-hour days of driving and various hotels each day.

While long days of driving can be exhausting in their own way, getting to see several parts of the country that I never thought I would was an experience I will always cherish. I had never seen the mountains before driving out here. The further west I got, the more surreal the experience became.

By May 2. a new chapter of my life began. I was 23 years old and now had to take on the world on my own. As soon as I arrived, it was time for state tournament coverage in baseball and softball. Then I blinked and summer was halfway done, and we had fall sports on the horizon.

Now it’s November, and I still feel like I’ve been here for only a week. It’s hard to unpack all of the feelings around a life transition like this, especially when it still feels like it’s actively unfolding. Coming out here as I have was a gamble, but one that I’m proud of myself for doing.

Someone who keeps me pushing forward is my Aunt Deb. She and my Uncle Rich took me in when I was 16 years old and helped me become the man I am today. Whenever I question my decision to come out here, I think of all the lessons she imparted to me.

She did the same thing when she was my age. She moved to Tennessee by herself and put herself through nursing school. She lived in Memphis for years and made a life of her own before eventually returning to Ohio. I imagine this experience led her to state one of the more memorable phrases that sticks with me today.

There’s a whole world out there; you ought to go see it.