(The December 30, 2025, edition marks the final chapter of The Cherokee Chronicle. Below is the column I wrote for the closing moment. Many thanks to Brock Hamrick for inviting me to contribute and for the care he put into bringing the newspaper’s farewell to life.)

The Final Edition, and the Legacy It Leaves Behind...

There is a certain stillness that comes with writing a final piece, a mix of sadness and gratitude that sits with you as the words form. That is how I feel as I write this for the last edition of The Cherokee Chronicle.

Today, we let go of something that left a mark on so many of us.

For nearly thirty-five years, this newspaper carried the stories of Cherokee County. It documented our triumphs, our losses, our daily rhythms, and the moments that told us who we were. As The Chronicle releases its final edition, I find myself thinking back on what those years meant to me.

I was twenty-four when I first stepped into the offices we rented in 1991, climbing the stairs to a small upstairs space in downtown Gaffney. The rooms were modest, the quarters close, and the staff was small, but the place overflowed with possibility. There was an energy there, the kind that only comes when you believe your work can make a difference. I loved being in those offices from the very beginning, and that feeling stayed with me for every year that followed.

We later moved into a much larger three-story building of our own, a move that felt like progress and momentum and the next chapter of our growth. Both spaces mattered to me. One gave me my start, the other gave me room to grow. Together, they shaped the writer I became.

We worked late nights that blended into early mornings, piecing together stories, designing pages, and rolling newspapers ourselves in the early days before digital changed everything. The Chronicle was more than a job. It was a family, a classroom, and a doorway into the heart of this county.

And it gave me friendships that have lasted far longer than any story we ever published. Some of the people I met in those offices are still part of my life today. Others crossed my path through the stories I covered or the meetings I attended, relationships built through shared purpose. A few dear friends have passed on through the years, but their presence stays with me. Their encouragement, humor, and spirit are still part of The Chronicle I carry in my heart.

I don’t remember every story I wrote. But I remember the people. The conversations that carried us through the long nights. The feeling that we were part of something real and deeply human.

And no one shaped me more than the late Tommy Martin. Tommy was our publisher, but he was also my mentor and my friend. He was the greatest writer I ever knew, and he taught me that the heart of every story begins with listening. His lessons still guide me.

When I left The Chronicle in 1997, newly married and stepping into a new career path a few counties away, I thought I was simply moving forward. What I didn’t realize was that my heart would stay connected. 

Not briefly. Not halfway. Completely.

I kept writing. Columns about Gaffney football, reflections on our community, and stories that always brought me back home. Long after my official departure, my byline continued to appear on Chronicle pages. It became my way of staying tied to a place that shaped my life.

And part of that life began with a single phone call back in 1996. Dawn, who would become my wife, was working at the Chamber of Commerce when she called The Chronicle one afternoon. People say you never know which moments will change your life. But I knew. Immediately. I didn’t know how or when or what our story would become, but I knew she was someone who would shape my world. That one phone call gave me the family I have today. It was the beginning of everything.

Working at The Chronicle opened doors I never expected, and I remain grateful for every one of them. It gave me the chance to serve on the South Carolina Peach Festival board, to travel the country producing concerts and special events with Hollywood’s Productions, and to meet local officials and community leaders who helped guide Cherokee County. Each experience widened my world and reminded me how fortunate I was to be part of something that reached far beyond the stories I wrote.

I covered Gaffney High School football under lights that seemed to carry the whole town’s heartbeat. I sat through Cherokee County Council meetings and Blacksburg Town Council meetings where decisions were made that shaped everyday life. I covered sports at Limestone College, my alma mater, with a pride that only grew stronger through the years.

I was fortunate to work in some capacity for all three of Cherokee County’s media outlets, including The Chronicle, The Gaffney Ledger, and WAGI, which later became WZZQ. Each one added meaning to my career, but The Chronicle is where my foundation was built.

As this final edition is published, I feel both gratitude and sadness. Gratitude for all it gave us, sadness for what we are losing. The Chronicle changed this county, and it changed me.

This newspaper was more than stories printed on a page or appearing on a screen. It was a gathering place, a voice, a thread that connected neighbors.

And today, as it releases its last edition, it deserves to be celebrated.

I am grateful to have been part of its story, grateful for the friendships it gave me, including the ones no longer here. From that small upstairs office in 1991 to this final day, The Chronicle has stayed in my heart.

Even though The Chronicle is closing, I take comfort in knowing that Cherokee County is still supported by dedicated storytellers and broadcasters who care deeply about this place. Many of the people continuing that work are friends I trust, people who feel the same responsibility I felt every time I sat down to write. Their commitment gives me confidence that the story of Cherokee County will continue to be told with heart, honesty, and pride. And knowing that brings me a sense of peace as we say goodbye to a newspaper that meant so much to so many.

What The Chronicle gave us will not disappear with this final edition. It lives in the friendships formed, the stories preserved, the lives touched, and the lessons carried forward by everyone who ever worked there or ever read its pages. Its final chapter may be published today, but its spirit will live on in the people who believed in it. I will always be one of them, carrying its memory with me for the rest of my life.

(Charles Wyatt was a part of the original staff of The Cherokee Chronicle, serving as Managing Editor. Wyatt worked alongside Tommy Martin for over 12 years, leaving The Gaffney Ledger to start The Chronicle with Martin in 1991. Wyatt later served as Vice President of Communications and Marketing at his alma mater, Limestone University. He now works as Strategic Marketing and Communications Manager at Spartanburg Day School.)