The past two years have been a whirlwind. One that has come to a close with the publishing of this issue of The Beachcomber. By the time this issue arrives in your hands Wednesday morning, I will no longer be this paper’s editor, but the managing editor of the University of Puget Sound’s alumni magazine.

The decision to leave my post here was not an easy one, but one I agonized over for more than a month. Before Vashon, I had never lived in anything close to a small town. I never imagined myself as the editor of a small-town newspaper where I would walk into the grocery store and recognize at least a dozen people in five minutes. I didn’t think places like Vashon existed. But they do. It does.

In two short years I have met more people than I can name (but I recognize in a heartbeat), become co-host of a radio show, worked as a waitress and wrote more stories than I can count. From the fight against a methanol plant in Tacoma to debunking a claim that Vashon is the most liberal place in the U.S. (it might be true, but not the way the December 2015 study measured it), reporting on a lawsuit against the school district and covering the important local issues like school bonds, pool covers and board elections that no other paper will cover, it’s been a pleasure and an honor to tell this community’s stories.

I’ve also learned. A lot. This job is the epitome of learning on the fly, baptism by fire, hitting the ground running — whatever you want to call it. On Sept. 1, 2015, I was dropped into this community without the slightest idea of the relevant characters, issues or politics. All things that an editor needs to know. But the paper had to be filled that first week and thankfully, I had the institutional memory in the form of my tenacious Beachcomber staff that made my job much easier. I made my mistakes — some large, some small. I was criticized, praised, questioned and corrected. I laughed, cried, felt overwhelmed and then accomplished. Suddenly, I realized it had been a year, then two.

But as I became more comfortable, the job somehow did not get easier. The job never gets easier. There’s always more to do, more questions to ask, more truth to seek. It was these things that initially drew me to journalism. I wanted to be a truth seeker. Who would’ve thought I’d get that chance time and again on a little island of 11,000 in the Puget Sound?

Thank you to the activists, the islanders who gave me leads on stories and the many former journalists for whom the journalism bug never left. Thank you for allowing me to pursue my passion and for reading the stories we work so hard to bring you every week. Most importantly, thank you to those who served as teachers — providing help and criticism as needed.

Please keep it up. The newspaper staff is a hard-working and dedicated group that does so much with very limited resources and ever-increasing responsibilities (now including mine). Keep reading the paper, and lend your insights, ideas and opinions. You are why we do what we do.