I debated whether to write this column at all. After all, I don’t have a personal connection to most of you.

There will be a fair number of readers who aren’t drawn in by the headline of this column and won’t ever see it. There are others who’ll read it and say, “Who is she again?” I’m also fully aware there will be a small number of you relieved to read it and wishing I’d written it far sooner.

But, after 27 years with The Observer and Baker City Herald I hope there’s a few of you who’ll be sad to hear I’m leaving.

And there it is. I said it. I’m leaving.

I was hired at The Observer as a grunt in advertising and here I am today, nearly three decades later, resigning my position as publisher and regional revenue director. While it’s been a wild and amazing ride, it’s time for me to say a bittersweet, gut-wrenching goodbye and move on to a new, exciting adventure.

As a reader, you’ve had a front-row seat to the most rewarding and heartbreaking days of my professional life — even if we’ve never met — because they impacted you, too. The bankruptcies of our former parent company. The sale and purchase of our newspapers by our current parent company, EO Media Group. Multiple frequency reductions. More than one round of painful layoffs. And most recently, the suspension of The Observer and Baker City Herald’s print product — as well as the Hermiston Herald, Wallowa County Chieftain and Blue Mountain Eagle.

That one is still difficult for me to process.

Many of you were sad to hear that news and reached out in support and solidarity. Others were quick to tell me you weren’t surprised — one even emailed me a “good riddance” message. That was a banner day.

It’s hard to fathom anyone would really put the effort into sending a message like that when you, your staff and your co-workers are in the throes of deep, genuine grief. And yet it happened.

I’ve heard from a lot of you over the years as these stories played out on our pages. You mourned the losses and celebrated the wins alongside us, offering words of encouragement and support.

I will be forever grateful for that and if I haven’t said it before now, thank you. Those calls, emails and personal conversations kept my team and I going amid some really challenging times.

I hope after my departure you continue to do that. It really does mean something, and newspaper employees — from the top down — deserve to hear it. Particularly today.

Others of you popped popcorn, grabbed a cold one from the fridge and enjoyed “the show.” Rarely are bullies and generalized jerks brave enough to deliver their unnecessarily hateful rhetoric face to face, and yet I gave each and every one of you the opportunity.

I can count on both hands the number of “keyboard warriors” who actually took me up on the offer over the years, but for those who did, our conversations were mostly pleasant and respectful. And while we may not have walked away supporting the other’s opinion or landing on a solution that worked for both parties, we parted better than we started.

I was grateful for those rare opportunities. I can only pray those awful calls and emails lessen when I’m not around to protect those who are most important to the operation. I challenge you to exercise some grace and treat them with respect. They deserve it more than you can imagine.

The most difficult part of this swan song is the painful untethering from my staff and co-workers (past and present) and the relationships I’m leaving behind.

Our personal and professional lives are intertwined in ways I have a difficult time explaining. We’ve cried together and celebrated our wins together. We’ve cursed and vowed never to return on the worst of days.

There were times I struggled more than I shared, but knowing each of you would be there ready to follow me into battle again, without fear or hesitation, was the motivation I needed to drag myself forward. You never failed to support me. You’ve given me 110% every day and your dedication and willingness to forge ahead when times have been tough has been inspirational.

Thank you for believing in me and trusting me when I told you things would be fine and for humoring me when you knew there was a slim chance things might not be fine. I’m leaving proud of each of you and of the work you do. It matters. Keep fighting the fight and celebrating the wins.

There are so many big wins to come and I’m looking forward to cheerleading from the sidelines. Working alongside each of you has been one of the greatest honors of my career.

To the lovers, to the haters, but mostly for my revered staff and co-workers, thank you and farewell. It’s been a privilege.