COLUMN | Wanted: The art of journalism, dead or alive?
Let me preface with: forgive me, Plainsman. I meant not what I said three years ago, on that rainy campus tour of Auburn. I don’t believe my 18-year-old self, who declared journalism’s time of death prematurely, could fathom the metaphorical home I’ve made for myself in journalism’s embrace. The art of journalism is alive in those that keep it so: in my fellow journalists, in each interviewee we come across, in our dear readers. To you all, I say, thank you for bringing a previously undiscovered part of me to life.

















