The FugHouse is empty this time of day. The sun has yet to rise. I let myself in silently so I don’t disturb my wife who’s still in bed in our house across the driveway from the radio station’s front door. Inside, everything is disheveled. Some walls are bare, computers are gone. Redwood Voice has moved out, though the where and why I’m no longer privy to. I’m sure there’s a reason. It’s been a strange couple of weeks.

Just last month, two Redwood Voice reporters and I went all the way to Los Angeles for a conference and everything seemed fine. More than fine, really. We were gearing up for a slew of youth media programs for the summer; our new antenna mast and hardline lay on the floor of the garage waiting to be hoisted into place. We were nearing denouement with our pending Klamath Promise Neighborhood proposal, which, if executed, would take our organization into entirely uncharted waters, expanding everyone’s role, cementing Redwood Voice’s place as Del Norte’s news source. It was an exciting, if fraught, time to be the director of a nonprofit community radio station with a youth media program at its core.

Then, in a matter of mere days, everything changed. There was board room drama, and relationships shifted with the sudden violence of a strike-slip fault. Though I’m being purposefully vague, ironically, I want to be clear: no one did anything wrong, nothing illegal or immoral or any of those other messy reasons board rooms get dramatic. Everybody acted and reacted according to Hoyle. Everybody except me.