Journalism is a unique occupation, akin to doing a jigsaw puzzle whilst riding on a rollercoaster. Blindfolded.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
Every day holds its unique - but rewarding - set of challenges.
Occasionally, we come across a story that makes the long hours and endless streams of communication worthwhile.
It is you, our readers.
Here are the stories that stories that meant the most to us in 2021.
Cass Langley, senior journalist
As a journalist, it is a privilege to become part of people's lives - despite it being only for a short time in minutes but talking to them about their past, and future, makes you feel like you are taken on their journey. I was told as a journalist it's hard to separate yourself from your subjects - that couldn't be more true. For me, the story that meant the most was writing Dr Alan Wolff's Queen's Birthday honours in June and his wife's, Dr Yvonne Cymbalist, announcement of taking time away from her career to care for her husband. Dr Wolff sadly passed away in August, 2021.
READ MORE:
Alex Dalziel, journalist
Four regional health services to form new Grampians Health Service entity. This story was the culmination of a year's work following the discussion and planning of our region's new public health entity. The new health entity was a controversial proposal from the start, and required a lot of leg work to include the breadth of opinion around the topic.
James Halley, journalist
For the number of months I have worked as a journalist I have covered many different topics from council meetings to cricket wraps. Breaking a player signing at a football club or being the first to break a story may be the most satisfying, but they weren't the most impactful. Travelling to St Arnaud to talk to WWII veteran Doreen Macgowan meant the most to me. We talked about her time in the air force, fond memories and memories she would like to forget.
Alex Blain, journalist
As journalists, it's our job to empathise with those whose stories we are privileged in telling, so in that way it's hard to not be impacted in some way by a lot of stories you write. However, a story that had a lasting impact on myself was a little story I wrote for R U OK Day. LeeAnne Cooper's story about how a question - four simple letters - saved her life resonated with me immensely for many reasons. It was one of the most powerful stories I've ever been told, and I'm incredibly grateful that LeeAnne let me tell it.
IN OTHER NEWS:
Alison Foletta, journalist
Edna Paech turning 100 was a story assigned to me in February 2021. I wasn't keen to do a profile, it's a big ask to contain someone's life in a few hundred words. I sat and spoke with Edna for about half an hour, along with her son. I was in awe of Edna, she was such a lovely, funny and kind person. I did my best to make her proud with my words. Boy Howdy, did I. The former English teacher sent me a letter thanking me for her "cover girl" article. It was when she passed in October and her family passed on their praise about her article and photos, did I realise how much our words matter. I was honoured to write the obituary about her as well. It was then I found out Edna had in fact, many years ago, taught my very own high school English teacher. I always knew words were magical, but this was a great reminder.
Ben Fraser, editor
Many aspects of journalism are unique. Despite holding more than a dozen jobs in my lifetime, there is nothing that rivals the unprecedented access to information afforded to journalists. That knowledge fuels my passion for digging deeper into a story. The role comes with trust. When someone invites you into their home, there is a degree of vulnerability, and you are entrusted to respect that exposed position. I've been asked into more than 100 homes in my eight years of writing; however, nothing compares to my experience with Larry Riley. While most profiles have an open ending - akin to a fairytale's happily ever after mantra - Larry's tale had an explicit ending. After suffering from COPD for six years, he was given permission to voluntarily end his life by the state government. Despite being just 69 years old, Larry was at peace with his decision. After all, he had lived more than a dozen extraordinary lives, lived along Australia's east coast and experienced numerous significant events. The story was a platform for his disappointment with the assisted dying process. Whilst not wanting to seem like a martyr, he tried to make the process easier for the next person by going public with his experience. The story encouraged plenty of talk about assisted dying within the newsroom, my family, and the community. While opinions differed, everyone shared an overwhelming level of empathy for Larry. It was an honour to be entrusted with his story.
While you're with us, you can now receive updates straight to your inbox from the Stawell Times-News. To make sure you're up-to-date with all the news from across the region, sign up here.