Happy Friday, everyone! If I told you that over the last few weeks I’ve been listening quite a bit to the Jonny Fritz song “I Love Leaving,” you would be forgiven for thinking that I’m delivering this news with a sense of unadulterated joy: today is my final day at the Flathead Beacon.

It has been a great run, and the Fritz song has been a comfort as I’ve gone about the bittersweet process of winding down my time at the Beacon. A song about cutting ties and moving on, it’s light and joyful on the surface but as the song progresses, it eventually taps into something a little more melancholy about what it means to stay, and what it means to go. It’s a good representation, in miniature, of my experience with leaving. One day I might find myself slowed down on a walk and hung up on the golden light in every changing leaf. The next day, the morning looks like evening and I feel with the utmost certainty that the day is ending even as its just begun and that somewhere in the distance an invisible gate is inching shut. But maybe that’s just the special experience of fall in the Flathead Valley, where you can get a taste of every season in a single day.   

I have no doubt that leaving tends to heighten one’s powers of observation. The novelist Kazuo Ishiguro once said that “If you stay in the same place, there’s a blur. There’s no motive to remember.” I find that to be true all the time coming and going, and if the memories you find are good, it makes the act of departure that much more weighty. In this case, the memories are definitely good! But I know just a little bit better than to bare my heart too much on the internet. Still, I’ll say that I’ll miss the Beacon dogs. And the people, too!

I don’t think I quite knew what to expect when I showed up from Billings about four years ago around this time. A colleague at the Gazette had warned me that the Flathead is pretty isolated, and I think there’s a lot of truth to that, even if it doesn’t obviously apply during certain summer months when it seems somehow like every person I’ve ever half known, and half of the people I’ve never known, are all arriving by land, air and sea. But of course, there can be a feeling of isolation, too, when you overhear the umpteenth person ask where to find the waterfalls in Columbia Falls. (We once had a July visitor at the old Beacon office come in and ask where they could get a soda.)

Reporting can be an isolating job, too. I think that’s part of what makes being part of a newsroom so special. It’s not always easy to find people who can not only believe the strange and stressful day you just had, but relate to it, too. 

All of this is to say that I still appreciate how readily I was welcomed by the Beacon staff immediately upon my arrival in 2021, even if some of them looked at me a little askance when I said I would miss Billings. That sense of being welcomed hasn’t gone away, and it’s just another reason that saying goodbye to this job is so tough.

It’s been a pleasure to work alongside the rest of the Beacon staff, and a privilege to tell interesting and meaningful stories about life in the Flathead. Thank you to everyone who made time for me over the years to answer questions and share their experiences.

I’ll miss the Beacon, and while I can always call or text, I take comfort knowing that I’ll also be able to hop onto the Beacon website, or open up the Daily Roundup, and see what the newsroom has been working on. I’m still working out the details of how I’ll keep up with Stevie the Labrador, Print the Supermutt, Draco the Husky, Joey the Mini Aussie and her new little brother Reynolds, but I’m hopeful that between the six of us we can put our heads together and figure something out.

Now, for one last time, I’m Mike Kordenbrock, bringing you the Daily Roundup …

Wednesday, Oct. 29 at 7:00 p.m. — WCC Film Series: Double Feature-Frankenstein
Enter the gothic world of Universal’s most enduring monster. James Whale’s Frankenstein brought Mary Shelley’s creation to life with Boris Karloff’s haunting performance, forever changing the landscape of horror cinema. Its sequel, Bride of Frankenstein , is a rare gem that surpasses the original – mixing dark humor, striking visuals, and one of the most unforgettable finales in film history. Together, these classics showcase the birth of modern movie monsters and the tragic beauty at the heart of Frankenstein’s tale.

Thursday, Oct. 30 at 6:15 p.m. — WCC Film Series: Double Feature-Young Frankenstein
The legacy continues with a night that balances heart and hilarity. Tim Burton’s Frankenweenie reimagines the legend with stop-motion charm, telling the touching story of a boy, his dog, and the electrifying power of friendship. Then, Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein turns the lab into a laugh factory, delivering one of the greatest comedies ever made – a loving parody of the very films screened the night before. From spooky to silly, this double feature celebrates Frankenstein’s cultural afterlife with wit, warmth, and a spark of mad genius.