One of the things I’ve toyed with doing since we started the paper is some sort of reoccurring series to recognize contributions to our communities and the people who call them home. It’s something that the old newspaper used to do, and I saw the value in it even then.
One thing I didn’t want to do, though, was to make it a regular weekly – or even a monthly – feature.
There were a couple of reasons for that. Firstly, I feel it reduces the act from a sincere and heartfelt celebration of community service to a chore; something you’ve got to do because it’s a Monday. It would cheapen, in my mind, any recognition I might give someone.
The second reason is less idealistic and more practical. We’ve already got a lot on our plates. Giving myself another reoccurring assignment, and making my wife set aside another chunk of space she doesn’t have the flexibility to pull, is the last thing I want to do.
All that said, there are times I hear things that aren’t necessarily news stories, but are definitely worth mentioning to the community. Often I hear them in relation to news stories, and though they aren’t something I plan to use, I file them away in the mental file cabinet. (It’s a writer thing.)
One of those ancillary stories to arise during research for a recent piece was related to a deputy with the Carter County Sheriff’s Office. Though the person I interviewed couldn’t recall the name of the deputy they dealt with, their physical description left little doubt in my mind they were speaking of Jeff McMonigal.
When I suggested the name their eyes lit up with recognition, and continuing their story they began to break down in tears as they described the sympathy, support, and professionalism that Deputy McMonigal exhibited during what was among the most traumatic experiences of their life.
This wasn’t the first time I’d heard good things about Deputy McMonigal and – oddly enough – it wouldn’t be long after having that story shared with me before I’d hear another story, from another family, who echoed the sentiment.
All of them said that McMonigal did his job. He asked the questions he needed to ask. He secured what he needed to secure. He did the job he needed to do. But in every instance he reportedly did his utmost to respect the heartbreak of the families or victims involved. He gave them space to grieve if necessary.
He listened, these families told me, to what they needed to say, not just what he needed to hear from them.
It might seem like a small thing. And really, it is. But small things can have an outsized impact. And we’d like to salute Deputy Jeff McMonigal for recognizing that.
Thanks, Mongo. Your community appreciates you.
