CAI climate and environment reporter Eve Zuckoff is leaving the station. She shares this message with our listeners:
Six years ago, I moved to Woods Hole as a not-yet-23-year-old journalist with only a vague idea of how to be a beat reporter — let alone how to cover climate change on a sandy stretch of land that sticks out 65 miles into the Atlantic Ocean. Since then, I’ve been lucky enough to talk with hundreds — thousands? — of locals about how they’re seeing this place change, what they’re holding onto, and anything else that’s mattered here. Activists, architects, veterinarians, veterans, regulators, fishermen, plumbers, migrants, toddlers, teachers, scientists, and “old ladies” have all given me their time — and a lot of it.
Because of them, I’ve been able to watch one of the last North Atlantic right whales get moved to its final resting place. I’ve done interviews on sailboats, fishing boats, eroding bluffs, and expansive beaches. I’ve done interviews in hardhats and waders. I’ve traveled in an Army caravan. I’ve also embedded in a high school cosmetology class — which was much scarier.
I would have been lost without the generosity of these people across the region. I thank them for their willingness to (re)explain big concepts, to go deeper, to spend 30 more minutes making sure I’d accurately capture the little stuff just right.
I’m also endlessly grateful for all of my CAI colleagues. Through the Report for America program, I was brought into CAI by Mindy Todd, Heather Goldstone, and Steve Junker. Since my first day, Steve has been my patient, brilliant editor. He’s made me a better writer and person. He’s given structure to impossible-to-structure features, refined my ear to catch the little bits of tape that make a story sing, protected all of you from my worst ideas, and nurtured all of my best. He’s defended, pushed, and championed me and my work every day.
I will do my best to apply everything I’ve learned at CAI at my next public radio home. I’ll be covering breaking news, general assignment and enterprise stories for WBUR, Boston’s NPR station. The work begins May 27.
And while this career change thrills me, if you’ve made it this far, you understand why today is, at the very least, bittersweet.
So my last note is to you: our listeners. By now you’ve likely heard that public radio is under threat. It’s been smeared and hacked at. And yet, here you are. Presetting our station in the car, bookmarking our website, giving during pledge drives, tuning in for the stories that matter. Please know this: we need you, we thank you, we will continue to be here for as long as stories need telling. Talk to you soon.
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