Getting ready to start my senior year at Portland State University, my time spent in the state’s eastern half still weighs heavily on my mind.

When I was selected to be the East Oregonian’s 2007 Snowden Intern, many of my friends were wary about the prospect of me spending three months in Pendleton.

After all, most of my friends are from the western half of the state and had come to view Eastern Oregon with a mix of trepidation and contempt, a misinformed view sadly shared by far too many people who live in the Willamette Valley.

Yet there’s no better way to learn about a community than to dive in and start reporting on it, and as I started my first day of work in June I thought I was ready for anything as long as I kept my mind open.

Then my editors informed me I had a week to learn all there is about this town called “Hermiston,” and they expected several articles detailing the city’s history and profiling its populace.

On top of that, they wanted to send me to another town called “Milton-Freewater,” where apparently bugs were destroying the area’s fruit orchards, an $85-million industry for just that city.

As a nearly incurable city boy, I was lost. But in the coming weeks and months, I began to understand both the rich history of Eastern Oregon and the important role the region’s agriculture and ranching plays in the state’s economic well-being.

While I’ll remember writing some stories with great fondness, the best part for me was always doing the reporting and meeting some of the nicest people in the state.

It didn’t matter whether it was grizzled Bob Brown, who had just survived the July wildfires near Arlington, or an extensive chat with “Old Harkie,” former Hermiston mayor Frank Harkenrider – most everyone I encountered was genuine, kind and left an indelible impression on me from day one.

In many ways, that’s the role of a newspaper, to tell the stories that wouldn’t or couldn’t be told. As I quickly discovered, Eastern Oregon has plenty of stories to tell.

One of the best moments for me was receiving a letter from a gentleman who lives in Hermiston. He was thanking me for doing a good job on the Hermiston Centennial stories I’d written, and letting me know I had gotten some minor things wrong.

At first I was upset, but quickly I realized the hardest part already was accomplished. This man had picked up a paper, read my writing and appreciated the effort. For a budding journalist, it was a light-bulb moment.

While I miss the people, including the incredible group of individuals who work for the East Oregonian, I also miss the beauty of the landscape.

Some of the most transcendent experiences of my internship were spent alone, driving in my car along Highway 74, noticing a ranch situated in a deep valley or what seemed liked miles of endless, golden wheat.

To me, they were iconic, all-American images, but I also came to understand for ranchers and farmers in the area, those images were their livelihoods and helped put the food I eat on the table. “Locally grown” takes on new meaning when you can see the food being grown.

There are too many wonderful experiences to touch on in a short column, but I suppose I’d be run out of Pendleton next time I came to town if I didn’t mention what an awe-inspiring experience the Round-Up was.

Everyone who says nothing compares with the Round-Up is quite correct. It’s an overwhelming week, but it brings out the best in the community, from all that the Main Street Cowboys do, to the powerful volunteer efforts of the Round-Up and Happy Canyon boards. It even made a cowboy out of me, for a week.

My time in Pendleton was amazing and life-changing, and I come away from the experience with the confidence to start what I hope will be a long career in journalism,

To the community, the EO and all of its employees, thank you so much. I know I’ll always have space in my heart for Eastern Oregon.

—

Owen Smith is back at PSU finishing his bachelor’s degree. He can be reached at allfit2print@gmail.com.