I had a look in the NZME story database last week. 4891. That is a rough idea of the number of stories I have written over the past nine years.
And that is only the
Taupō & Tūrangi Weekender editor Laurilee McMichael. Photo /Kirsty Thornton
I had a look in the NZME story database last week. 4891. That is a rough idea of the number of stories I have written over the past nine years.
And that is only the ones with my byline on them, there will be plenty of others that I dashed off in a hurry without putting a byline on, either because I was too busy or the story was too short to bother.
The Taupō & Tūrangi Weekender. I have lived it and breathed it, I have lain awake at night worrying about it and composing articles in my head, I have made a lot of friends and probably a few enemies, I have been shouted at and grumbled to and sent bullying emails for nothing more than doing my job.
On the flip side, there have been lovely letters, boxes of chocolates, flowers, bottles of wine, pot plants that preferred to die rather than hang out in my office with me. I have had hugs and kisses, endless cups of tea and pieces of cake. There have been helicopter flights, whitewater rafting and boat trips, although I regret I never did manage to score a paid travel junket.
On Friday afternoon I will log off my computer for the last time, hand over the key to the editorial car and pass the guardianship of the Taupō & Turangi Weekender to its new editor, David Beck.
Every now and then, newspapers need new ideas and new people and I am confident I am leaving the Weekender in good hands. But it is incredibly difficult to walk away from something that has been such a huge part of my life.
I've written some wonderful stories. I've written the odd stinker. I don't know what the best story I ever wrote is, although my personal favourite is an editorial I wrote after the death of a severely disabled young man.
The greatest story I never got was the day a plane crashed outside my house (I was out). The biggest story I ever broke was that Taupō was to lose its rescue helicopter. I've written a few that have made people sad and others that have made them throw the Weekender at the wall.
The best times have been with people. I have cried with people and laughed with others. I have wept while writing obituaries and reports of coroners' inquests. I have been welcomed onto marae and into people's homes. I have had to work hard to maintain composure while interviewing people close to death, who had a final story they wanted me to tell. Some people I have had so much fun with, I could hardly tear myself away.
I conducted an interview with one man while his dog sat next to me with my ankle in its mouth and on other jobs my lap has been commandeered by the interviewee's cat. I've been rained on, frozen and sunburned. I have struggled to prise public information out of the army of people employed to guard it from people like me and I have had many, many others willingly tell me incredibly personal things and trust me to keep it safe.
I interviewed a woman who went on to be convicted in one of New Zealand's most horrific child abuse cases. I have sat through dreadful court cases and been witness to the life-changing devastation caused by poor driving, by failure to properly identify a target, by horrible, tragic, unfortunate accidents where everybody is a victim and nobody is a winner.
But I have also taken delight in unselfconscious children and cute animals, disabled people achieving amazing things, talented teenagers hitting academic heights, ordinary people stepping up to help others less fortunate than themselves and elderly people telling their stories of experiences that shaped the person they have become. What an honour.
My journalism lecturer used to tell us that journalism was a craft and as he phrased it, "a really noble craft". It makes me irritated when I hear people who know nothing about journalism, or how journalists work, moaning about how we do our jobs, based solely on what they've seen in a movie or inferred from the 1pm Covid press conference.
We do our best to dig beyond the bland statements, to ask questions that may seem repetitive but seek to pin down the detail that is being deliberately left out or disguised by phrases such as "a number of ..." or "some time soon ..." or "we expect to ...". We do our best to convey the facts and both sides of an issue.
Treasure your community newspapers. They are there to provide an objective view, a link to your community and its people and to act as a watchdog for local democracy. Our first responsibility, within the legal constraints we must operate in, is always to our readers.
To those of you who have always supported us, by advertising in our newspaper, by buying goods or services from our advertisers, by taking out a NZ Herald Premium subscription, by providing feedback and story tips and thumbs ups and downs, thank you. I will miss telling your stories.
Please welcome David to Taupō and to the Weekender and continue to show him the trust and confidence you have so freely given to me. You can contact him at david.beck@nzme.co.nz or 376 1351.
I love this community, this district and our people. To serve you has been a privilege.
Ngā mihi mahana ki a koutou, aroha nui kia a koutou, with love and gratitude, Laurilee.
The man has now been jailed for 12 years and six months.