The end is here, but the stories live on

Jessica Barnett


Two years ago, I sat at a conference table with several of my classmates and joked about how little I wanted to be there. In my head, I was determined to serve my one required semester as reporter and get out.

When they mentioned the position of online editor, I hesitated before tossing my hat in the ring. I didn’t expect to get it.

I got it anyway. Within a few months, I took over as editor-in-chief, and I have happily remained here since.

I look around the offce now, and it’s hard to imagine a time when I didn’t consider this my home away from home. All I see are stories I never got to tell and will do my best to never forget.

There’s the table where we piled a bunch of random dishes for a Thanksgiving dinner with the original members of my Cromwell family. The desk next to it holds the prize we won the first time I went to trivia with the team. Next to the desk is Scroter, our unofficial mascot that later got replaced by Speccie, a smaller mascot that’s easier to transport.

On the other side of the room, a bean sits in a paper clip. I discovered him in a desk drawer and named him Sean. Below him, the ratty comforter known as “Community Blanket” waits for the next sleepy or cold student to snatch it up.

This office is where I learned the power of my “Mom” voice. I still fail to keep a straight face at how quickly my peers snap to attention, but it is a useful power nonetheless.

One of the doors in the office leads to the lab where my Spectator journey began. It is also the location of several shared meals, more than one sauce packet war and my first time watching “Back to the Future.”

Down the stairs is the table where we first met “Clicky Ghost.” The infamous “smoking squirrels” video was filmed in the lobby. The front porch probably knows more secrets than any other wall in the building.

We chased deer through the soccer field. We chased cats more. We stood on the roof and marveled at the view. We cursed the train every time it interrupted our conversation.

We danced. We sang. We laughed. We ranted. We lived and learned.

And now we near the end.

I look around this office, and I see so much past. I see photos and stories from previous editors, and I am so grateful that I seized the opportunity to join them.

I look around this office, and more than past, I see potential. I don’t know for sure who will be taking over after me, but I trust they will have their own stories to share before they leave.

May they enjoy their adventure every bit as much as I did and then more.