February marked a milestone I’m still wrapping my head around—30 full years of publishing The Independent, which the first 10 months carried a different name: The Revolution. Last month, March, we celebrated with our anniversary issue. It was a big one. And then comes the natural question—now what?
The truth is, in many ways, I’ve already done everything I ever set out to do with this publication—and then some. Over three decades, we’ve sold millions of dollars in advertising, published thousands upon thousands of stories, and built what many readers still tell me is the best events calendar in the region. That calendar, by the way, doesn’t happen by accident. It’s a labor of love led by our office manager, Nikki Slade, whose work largely happens behind the scenes. She’s the only full-time employee besides me, and the consistency she brings is a huge part of what keeps this machine running.
We’ve always been a small, independent crew—but an incredibly dedicated one. Scott Dunford, our advertising director, has been with us for over 14 years. Josh Segovia, who handles the majority of our layout (with some help from me), has been part of this for nearly two decades. Nikki herself is on her second stint with us, totaling around 15 years.
More recently, we’ve welcomed Chris St. Cyr as our distribution manager, who jumped in just a few months ago and has already made a strong impact. And Elizabeth Gunter, our editor, now just over a year in, has brought a fresh and confident voice to our arts and entertainment coverage—including launching The Dish, our restaurant review series.
So while this anniversary has naturally been a moment to reflect, more than anything, it’s a moment to say thank you.
To our staff—past and present. To the contributors who have filled these pages with their thoughts and stories. To our advertisers, whose support makes it possible for this publication to remain free to our readers. To the community that continues to pick it up, flip through it, and show up to the events we highlight.
And yes—even to the critics along the way. You’ve all been part of the journey.
Thirty years in, I’m not looking at this as a finish line. If anything, it feels like a reset point. A chance to keep doing what we’ve always done—connect people to this place, to each other, and to the experiences that make southern Utah what it is.
Thanks for reading. And happy spring.
