Locals Only: A Day in the Life

A Day in the Life of a Small-Town Newspaper Editor:

8:15 a.m. In the office. Read email from police about Porthole Pub employee arrested for embezzling $80,000.

9:30 a.m. Breakfast at Pirates Cove with a citizen who is furious (his face was pretty red, although it could be sun burn) about the Street LID costing some 25 percent more than originally advertised; somewhere along the way interest wasn’t factored in. A councilman joins us; he and the citizen have a spirited discussion/debate. They don’t agree on much, except coffee.

10:40 a.m. Phone interview with Detective Chris Iversen, re the embezzlement. He can’t say too much, but adds some details about his year-long investigation. The alleged embezzler apparently had a gambling problem, and over recent years lost $140,000 or so, all on the slot machines. Wrapping up the interview, I tell the detective I had just been talking to his step-mother about writing a story on him, as he’s the only detective in town and has a pretty interesting job. “You’ll have to get it approved,” he says. I can hear him blushing.

10:45 a.m. Ian Coffer, the owner of the Porthole Pub, stops by. He tells me some sad, funny and just plain weird details about the embezzlement case. Most of it, alas, is “off the record.” There’s a gentle lilt to his voice, and a somewhat impish way to his nature. I’m a nice guy, he says, but don’t cross me. The fierce look blazing in his eyes allows no question, on this matter.

11:15 a.m. Post notices of two City Council meetings at northcoastnews.com.

11:45 a.m. Busted by Top Cop: As I am leaving the office for a photo shoot, the Chief of Police pulls in the parking lot. He gets out of his vehicle, points out an error I made in a posting about the council meetings. I walk back into the office tot fix the error, feeling his sneer burning on my back. At least he didn’t Taze me . . .

12:30 p.m. Photo shoot: Sharky’s, the new sweatshirt/gift shop with the giant shark being built at the entrance. I wish Scott and Chris Chapin luck, but don’t think they’ll need it with this tourist draw.

1:15 p.m. Back at the office. Email from a city government  critic who is not pleased with a story I posted about a new police boat. He accuses me of “drinking the Kool-aid.” Reading the email, I grow thirsty . . .

1:20-1:50 p.m.: Type up emailed listings from the Grays Harbor Sheriff’s log. Dateline, Humptulips. “12:04 a.m. Big party at the boat launch. 50-60 people. Loud music, yelling, partying going on.”

2 p.m. Questionnaires from high school seniors start rolling in. One plans to live in a log cabin, by a fishing creek. Another wants to travel the world as a photojournalist, “before the beauty fades from pollution and over population.”

3:30 p.m. Urgent call: “They’re digging up our street and they found a giant log!”

3:45 p.m. Woman comes in to renew subscription. Apologizes for it being late.

5: 20 p.m. Done for the day. Close the office gingerly, so as not to disturb the bird’s nest above the door.

Up-date: The day after this column was published in the North Coast News, the editor stopped at the Chance/OS Blvd intersection. A vehicle pulled up in the next lane: the Top Cop. “Hold on so I can sneer at you,” he said, before turning down the beach approach.