I Came to the South Bay for a Job. I Stayed for the Stories, the People and a Life I Never Saw Coming

Twenty years ago, I was a young-ish writer working a day job in the magazine sales office of a publishing company, when I got a call from a guy looking for an editor to launch a new regional magazine in the South Bay.

Though I was born there and had returned years later as a student at nearby Loyola Marymount University, I hadn’t spent much time in the South Bay as an adult. Still, a gig was a gig. My editing experience amounted to just a few years of part-time work on another publication, but that guy, Todd, decided to take a chance on me anyway.

I had no idea that one phone call would change the course of my life. What began as just another freelance opportunity became the foundation of a career that has shaped the past two decades.

I’ve always had a complicated relationship with the word “career.” I’ve worn a lot of hats over the years—production, writing, editing, management—and I’ve always been drawn more to variety than stability. I never felt entirely comfortable defining myself by a single title or fitting neatly into one professional box.

So here I was, the new editor of Southbay, standing at the door of a plane with no parachute. How could I possibly oversee a magazine for a community I’d lost touch with over the years? Would it land? Would I land?

Still, I jumped. And I learned. Made mistakes. Made some more. But also grew alongside an evolving South Bay.

And somehow, almost without realizing it, I found myself building a life around storytelling. Pages and pages of stories about the people who choose to call this place home.

Along the way, I’ve had the privilege of collaborating with some of the finest writers, photographers, designers and artists anywhere. Looking back, it’s astonishing to realize just how much we’ve documented—not just the icons and innovators, but the everyday moments that together tell the story of where we live.

I don’t know if that 30-something standing at the edge of that plane door could have imagined what was waiting on the other side. But if a career is measured not just by longevity but by grit, growth, purpose and the people you have the privilege of sharing the journey with, then I’m grateful I took the leap.

Twenty years later, I’d do it all over again.