Sarah Nigbor

I often joke to my husband that I want to retire someday on an island. No, not a tropical island in the Caribbean with white sand beaches and thousands of tourists. I’m thinking more of a secluded, tiny island of my very own in the middle of a vast northern lake. I would be selective about who to allow on my island.  You couldn’t just get to it by crossing a bridge. My log cabin would be cozy, with a stone fireplace, a view of the lake and endless pines, with a fully stocked library, complete with leather armchair, a stained-glass lamp and a ladder to reach those towering shelves. My kind of paradise.

Alas, I doubt this exact dream will come true because Hubby insists on being able to easily access a hospital. How logical and boring. He swears I wouldn’t like boating to my island in the dead of winter or crossing the ice. He might be right, but I like the cold, so it might be okay. This is an argument I will not win. 

I would love to live on an island to get away from people. At least that’s what I tell myself when I’m fed up with the world. Lately, sometimes I am. Reading the bickering on social media makes me think everything’s going to hell in a handbasket. The cruelty that automatically flies from some people’s fingertips astounds me. Bill Barth’s column this week hits it right on the head. Why are people so quick to be cruel? What happened to love thy neighbor? The number of phone calls our office gets with people flying off the handle immediately before anything can be said is disturbing. I’ve had other customer service people thank me for not screaming and swearing at them on the phone when addressing a question or mistake. That’s sad, because clearly people being kind to them isn’t the norm.

Hubby, in his infinite wisdom, likes to remind this curmudgeon that we all need people. I stubbornly tell him no, I just need books and my dog. But he’s right (gasp). We do need people. We need our community. The stories I worked on this week reminded me of that.

I encourage you to read the essays written by Elmwood students this week about why they love Elmwood. A common theme was because of the people, how they care for each other and show up in good times and bad. Those kids are right. In Pierce County, people show up when there is need. People let you know they care. Those who sit behind a keyboard and spread their poison, forget them. Look away from the screen and see the wonderful people in front of you.

Here are the people I’d like to thank for restoring my faith in good people this week:

Raynee Farrell, aka “The Bank Lady,” is the definition of goodwill in a community. The amount of volunteer hours she pours into local organizations, not to mention her work at CCFBank, is inspiring. She makes the community a better place.

Jennifer Webster lost her dad Brian to suicide. Instead of becoming bitter, she and her family have shared Brian’s story to help other and address farmer mental health needs in the community through the Farmer Angel Network of Western Wisconsin. They’re dedicated to letting farmers and farm families know that they are not alone.

The Elmwood Area Community Club members pour their hearts and souls into providing residents fun, meaningful community gatherings year-round, culminating with UFO Days. These type of events don’t just magically happen. It takes hard work, determination and perseverance.

The Journal’s readers: Your support of me, our newspaper and local news is enough to keep this reporter/editor going. I won’t be leaving for my island any time soon.