This page has always been my little corner of the magazine—a place for me to reflect, explain and, yes, occasionally ramble. Writing it now, in our Good Life issue, feels particularly fitting and somewhat surreal as it marks my final Editor’s Letter. But it’s a natural moment to look back on what the good life has meant to me over my 18 years here.
I’ve learned that it has less to do with the bells and whistles and more to do with the people you surround yourself with—those who show up for one another, care deeply about where they live and believe in stories worth telling.
That belief has brought joy and inspiration in a variety of ways. Each year, Light a Fire gives us the privilege of celebrating the unsung heroes among us—people doing extraordinary good without asking for recognition. Teens to Watch introduces us to young people whose ambition and compassion are changing lives on a scale that is humbling, even to those of us more than twice their age. We also welcome entertainers, business leaders and cultural figures into these pages, with the goal of connecting our readers to a wider world beyond our town lines. These stories are a reminder that community, at its best, is generous, curious and deeply human.
Our deference to the power of storytelling has also guided narratives that are far more uncomfortable.
We investigated the failures that led to the death of Bart Palosz, a Greenwich High School freshman who took his own life after years of relentless bullying, asking hard questions about accountability and the systems meant to protect kids.
We revisited the mysterious death of George Smith, a local honeymooner lost at sea, uncovering evidence that had gone unseen for years and refusing to let the story quietly disappear. »
We told the unimaginable story of Kaitlin Roig-DeBellis, the teacher who saved her students by hiding them in a tiny bathroom during the Sandy Hook massacre.
We’ve addressed the unspeakable—domestic violence, sex trafficking and other realities that are easier to ignore than confront. But they mattered, and they reminded us that local journalism can, and should, demand answers.
Behind every one of these stories—hopeful or heavy—was a team committed to getting it right.
Senior Art Director Venera Alexandrova, my creative partner in crime, brings an eye, instinct and artistic judgment that elevates every page and raises the bar across the board.
Lisa Servido deftly assists Venera and manages the mayhem behind the scenes.
Ali Gray produces our People & Places and Vows pages with pure style. She has also cemented our place in the social media space with wit and relevance—no small feat in a crowded digital universe.
And, of course, Donna Moffly, who believed in me long before I fully believed in myself. Founder, mentor, sounding board, and perhaps most important, after losing my own mom, surrogate mother. (Everyone needs a cheerleader, no matter how old we are.) Her guidance has shaped not only my career, but the way I move through the world.
I’ve also had the privilege of working with an extraordinary extended family: the gifted editors, art directors and copy editors across our publications, a production wizard with the patience of a saint, Jonathan Moffly, who ably took over from his legendary father, Jack, and our dedicated sales, partnership and digital teams.
And then there are our writers—an exceptional group whose talent, curiosity and voice shape every issue. They are far more than bylines. They are trusted collaborators and friends.
These are all people who believe in the craft of publishing. I hope you pick up every issue and think, This feels intentional. Because it is.
To say that I’ve been lucky to work with the Moffly team is an understatement of epic proportions. We’ve ridden more than a few waves together—economic crashes, a global pandemic, competition that has come and gone and a constantly shifting media landscape, to name a few. That we’ve always emerged stronger is no accident. It’s a testament to the talent, grit and determination of every person on our staff.
As for what’s next for me, there’s no big reveal, no dramatic pivot, no startup hoodie stashed in the closet. I simply know—quietly and confidently—that it’s time to see where the universe takes me next. This from a dyed-in-the-wool Capricorn who is typically allergic to change and the unknown. (But they’re not getting rid of me that easily. I will stay in the fold as Editorial Advisor.)
To you, our readers: Thank you for welcoming me into your homes for all these years. It’s been the honor of a lifetime to help tell Greenwich’s story.
Here’s to the Good Life—past, present and everything that is to come.
