Giving North Idaho Kids a Safe Start Brian Rauscher will be the first to tell you he did not plan any of this. A petroleum engineer by training, he went on a date in 2011 and ended up co-founding one of the most impactful child safety organizations in the Pacific Northwest. On a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , I sat down with Brian, director of operations for Safe Start , to talk about the work his organization is doing to keep infants and children safe across North Idaho and eastern Washington. What brought him to this work is a love story, a sense of purpose, and a wife named Liz who found her calling in the most heartbreaking of circumstances. Liz lost her son Mason to an unsafe sleep accident in 2003. That loss became the foundation of everything Safe Start does. The organization she helped found, originally called Inland Northwest SIDS Foundation, eventually absorbed the organization she had first worked for, and Safe Start was born. Today it operates out of Coeur d'Alene with two and a half paid staff members and roughly 150 volunteers who make it all possible. Safe Start does three things really well. First, they provide safe sleep education, following American Academy of Pediatrics guidelines for babies from birth to one year. Second, they run a child passenger safety program, educating families on car seat safety and distributing brand new car seats at no cost — 724 of them in 2025 alone, every single one accompanied by face to face education so families actually know how to use them. Third, through their Healing Together program, they support families who have experienced the loss of a pregnancy, infant, or child. It is hard, sacred work, and Liz leads it with the kind of grace that only comes from having lived through it herself. What sets Safe Start apart is their mobile safety lab, called the REO (Rural Education Outreach) program — one of only two Buckle Up for Life mobile safety labs in the entire country, a collaboration between Cincinnati Children's Hospital and Toyota. Safe Start takes theirs to 16 rural communities across North Idaho and eastern Washington, from Bonners Ferry all the way down to Grangeville, setting up pop-up events with trusted local partners so families can pull up, get educated, and leave with a new car seat if they need one — no strings attached. The night before we recorded this conversation, Brian and his team had been in St. Maries, where they completed 37 car seat checks and distributed 26 brand new car seats in a single afternoon. He gave me those numbers first, fresh from the field. The partnership piece is central to how the REO program works. Brian is clear that Safe Start does not parachute into communities and tell people what to do. They find trusted local partners first — a Head Start program, a tribal health specialist, a community health organization — and let those relationships lead the way. The ultimate goal is for each community to build its own capacity so that Safe Start eventually works itself out of a job in that area. That is the kind of program design worth paying attention to. The story Brian shared about his wife Liz says everything about why this work matters. They were on vacation in Palm Springs, walking out the door to a comedy show, when a text came through on their 24/7 support line. A mother, ten days after losing her one-year-old daughter, wrote: I don't know how to keep breathing. Liz spent 45 minutes on the phone with her from the balcony of their condo. That is what Healing Together looks like in practice. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we believe that every family deserves access to the resources and support they need, and that the strongest communities are the ones where no one has to face the hardest moments alone. Safe Start is living proof of that every single day. If you would like to get involved as a volunteer, or if your family could benefit from their services, visit nwsids.org . And if you are in the Coeur d'Alene area, keep an eye out for their annual Run for the Angels 5K, a beautiful community event that honors children who were lost too soon. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Brian Rauscher.

Head Full of Sky: Meet the Sandpoint Rocket Kid They say shoot for the stars. Carter Thompson is taking that advice, shooting for 60,000 feet first and working his way up from there. On a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , I sat down with Carter, a remarkable young man from our area who is designing, building, and planning to fly a high-altitude student rocket to 60,000 feet at the Friends of Amateur Rocketry site in the Mojave Desert in May 2027. He is doing this as part of the Selkirk Launch Group, alongside two teammates: Ryland, who handles engine design and electronics, and Caden, the ideas guy. Together, with the support of a growing network of mentors and collaborators, they are moving forward with the kind of quiet confidence that makes you think they just might pull it off. Carter's passion for rocketry was ignited early, at the local library, where his dad took him to a rocketry event that changed everything. From that spark came YouTube rabbit holes, a local rocketry club, and a passion that has only grown since. He started flying smaller rockets, earned his Level 1 and Level 2 certifications through the National Association of Rocketry, and kept pushing. Now 17, he has his sights set on something that very few people, let alone teenagers, have ever attempted. What makes Carter's project remarkable is not just the altitude goal. It is the scope of what he is teaching himself along the way. He is designing the rocket's airframe, working with carbon fiber composites, building his own avionics bay, writing and troubleshooting flight computer code, and learning how to design and safely work with a liquid rocket engine. He described the process of going from a failed simulation to a working one with the matter-of-fact calm of someone who has gotten comfortable being uncomfortable. Getting comfortable being uncomfortable is a skill most adults spend years trying to develop. Carter is already there at 17. The technical challenges are real. At 60,000 feet, the air is thin enough that standard recovery systems do not work the same way. Carter has had to think carefully about drogue chutes, main chutes, and the timing of deployment at altitudes where most people have never been. He is working through propulsion questions, weight and balance calculations, and the kind of systems engineering that most adults would find overwhelming. He is doing it at 17, in his spare time, largely because he finds it genuinely fun. He is also building something bigger than a rocket. Carter talked about the mentors who have shaped his journey, experienced rocketeers, engineers, and community members who have taken the time to answer his questions, review his designs, and encourage him to keep going. He spoke about the importance of finding people who know more than you do and being willing to ask for help. For a teenager, that is a remarkably mature perspective. Carter's message to other young people is simple. You do not have to wait until you are an adult to do something real. You do not need a lab or a university or a big budget. You need curiosity, persistence, and the willingness to figure things out one problem at a time. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we love seeing young people in our community who are doing exactly that. Carter is proof that the next generation of innovators, engineers, and problem solvers is already here, already building, already dreaming, already reaching. And when that rocket lands in the Mojave Desert in May 2027, we have a feeling it will leave a little stardust behind. If you want to follow Carter's journey, you can subscribe to his YouTube channel . And if you would like to help make this dream a reality, you can support the Selkirk Launch Group directly through their G oFundMe . Every contribution counts. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Carter Thompson.

High School Aerospace: Where Students Build the Real Thing In 2012, a high school junior walked up a driveway and asked a favor. Fourteen years later, that conversation has launched over 60 students into aviation careers. On a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , I sat down with Ken Larson, founder of the North Idaho High School Aerospace Program , to talk about what has grown from that simple conversation into one of the most extraordinary youth programs in our region. Ken is quick to point out that the program was actually founded by Anna Filch, the student who showed up at his door in 2012 and asked if he would talk to a school counselor about starting an aviation program. Ken was the first person who got involved and stuck with it. Now in its 14th year, the program has sent over 60 students into aviation careers and counting. Ken's path to this work is shaped by decades of experience in the air. After joining the Air Force to avoid the draft and training as a pilot, he went on to fly business jets for NetJets for ten years, run his own flight school at the Sandpoint Airport for another ten, and somewhere along the way went to law school, ran a fishing business in Micronesia, and worked on a World Bank project in Somalia and Djibouti. Flying, he says, is the one thing he always came back to. That love of aircraft and deep desire to share what he knows is really the fuel behind everything this program has become. The program actually does three distinct things. First, there is an academic class at Sandpoint High School called Career Pathways Aerospace, which this year has so much demand that it is being offered in two sections. The class covers aerodynamics, weather, navigation, and weight and balance, but what makes it special is its focus on career pathways. Ken likes to tell his students that he does not think they can name something in normal society that is not somehow related to aviation. Over 24 guest speakers come through the class each year, from engineers to pilots to industry professionals, bringing the world of aerospace to life for students who may never have considered it before. Second, there is the ACES program — Aviation Center of Excellence Sandpoint — a hands-on airplane building workshop that meets every Saturday from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. at the Sandpoint Airport. It costs nothing to participate, pizza is provided, and any student aged 12 and up is welcome to show up. Right now, a group of students is working on a Jabiru, a four-seat Australian-built kit airplane made of composite materials. A $29,000 engine for that plane arrived just last week, funded by a grant from the Whittier Trust's Confidence Foundation, the same organization whose $30,000 gift years ago was the seed money that got the whole program growing. Students on the ACES program learn to read blueprints, work with tools, wire instrument panels, shape composite materials, and work in teams on multiple projects simultaneously. As Ken put it, those are skills that apply to any career, no matter what. Third, the program works to help students access flight training through scholarships and connections to local resources. The student success stories Ken shared are remarkable. The very first class of 12 students that started building airplanes together — six of them are still in aviation today, mostly as commercial pilots. Anna Filch, who started it all, went on to study airport management and then got into aviation firefighting. Maggie Kirchherr trained with Ken's flight school, became an airline pilot with Republic Airlines and then NetJets, and eventually came back as a flight instructor at the school where she first learned to fly. One student who insisted he had no interest in flying became an aircraft mechanic, got his dream job in New York living near his sister, and recently emailed Ken to say he is almost finished with his commercial pilot's license. And Eric Gray, who started building one of the kit planes as a student, went on to become the program's test pilot — completing the circle by flying the very first test flights of the airplane he helped build. This October marks a milestone. Two airplanes the students built received their FAA airworthiness certificates, with the examining official noting they were among the best he had ever seen for construction quality and attention to detail. Both flew their first flights in October of 2025. What makes all of this possible is volunteers. Retired engineers, experienced mechanics, pilots, and businesspeople who give up every Saturday to work alongside these students. Some of them have been doing it for six or seven years. Ken is genuinely humble about his own role, pointing to the volunteers as the real reason the program works. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we love seeing programs like this one that connect young people to real skills, real mentors, and real futures. The aerospace program is proof that when a community shows up for its youth, extraordinary things happen. If you have a student between the ages of 12 and 18 who is curious, the ACES workshop is open every Saturday at the Sandpoint Airport. Just show up. The academic class at Sandpoint High School is also open to students from other schools and homeschool families — talk to the counselor to find out how. And if you want to support the program through volunteering, expertise, or donations, reach out at highschoolaerospace@gmail.com or visit their website at highschoolaerospace.org . They are also always looking for people in the aviation or engineering community to come and visit, share their career, and make the work feel real for the next generation. As Ken said, there is one rule: follow instructions. If you are not sure what to do, do not do anything. Everything else is an adventure. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Ken Larson.

The surprising role of nonprofits, neighbors, and rural communities in rebuilding trust. Election season has a way of reminding us of everything that divides us. Different candidates. Different priorities. Different ideas about what our country—and our community—needs most. But something interesting happens when we bring those differences home to Bonner County. The person whose political views differ from yours might also be the volunteer helping your neighbor through a crisis. The business owner who sees the world differently might be sponsoring the same youth program you believe in. And the people sitting around a nonprofit boardroom table may have very different opinions about Washington, but share a deep commitment to making life better right here. Perhaps we have more common ground than our national conversations would lead us to believe. And new research suggests our nonprofit community may be one of the most important places to find it. An Unexpected Source of Common Ground Independent Sector's July 2026 Trust in Nonprofits and Philanthropy report surveyed 3,000 Americans and revealed something worth celebrating. 56% of Americans report high trust in nonprofit organizations , significantly higher than trust in many other institutions. But here's the finding that really caught our attention: 50% of Americans believe nonprofits are helping make divisions in our country better, up from 44% in 2025. And when asked which institutions are best positioned to reduce those divisions, respondents most frequently pointed to nonprofit organizations and people in their own local communities. Think about that. At a time when it can feel increasingly difficult to find common ground, Americans are looking to their neighbors and the organizations serving them to help bring people together. Not because we all think alike. But perhaps because we recognize that some things matter more than our differences. In Rural Communities, Our Lives Are Already Connected There's something uniquely powerful about living in a place like Bonner County. Our communities are small enough that our lives naturally overlap. The person serving your coffee might also coach your child's soccer team. The contractor working on your home might volunteer at the food bank. The person sitting beside you at a community fundraiser might hold entirely different beliefs about the world, but care just as deeply about the family down the road that's fallen on hard times. We see one another at the grocery store, the farmers' market, community events, and school activities. And when something happens to one of our neighbors, the ripple effects rarely stop at their front door. A family facing housing insecurity may also be struggling with transportation, employment, or healthcare. A senior living alone may need more than a meal or a ride. A young person searching for direction may need someone willing to recognize their potential and help open a door. These aren't isolated problems. They're interconnected challenges that affect the health and strength of the community we all share. And they remind us that caring for our community isn't a political position. It's something we do together. Trust Isn't Built Through Agreement One of the most compelling findings in the Independent Sector report is that 60% of people who interacted with a nonprofit in the previous year said that experience increased their trust . That tells us something important. Trust grows through experience. It grows when someone answers the phone. When a volunteer shows up. When a neighbor receives help without judgment. When an organization follows through on a promise. It also grows when we invite people to participate, listen to perspectives different from our own, and remain transparent about the work we're doing. In fact, 74% of respondents indicated that transparency about how nonprofits use their funds would positively influence their trust. Good intentions matter. But so do accountability, effectiveness, and results. Trust isn't something nonprofits are automatically entitled to because we have good missions. It's something we must continually earn. And perhaps one of the greatest opportunities we have in rural communities is the ability to build that trust face-to-face. What If Connection Is Our Greatest Community Resource? At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we have the privilege of seeing what happens when people and organizations come together around a shared need. Every day, we work to connect individuals and families with resources while helping the organizations serving our region connect with one another. And one thing becomes clearer the longer we do this work: No single organization has everything our community needs. But together, we have far more than we sometimes realize. Our nonprofits, businesses, churches, civic groups, volunteers, local governments, and neighbors each bring different resources, experiences, and perspectives to the table. What if we became even more intentional about connecting them? What if we created more opportunities for organizations to collaborate instead of working in isolation? What if we spent less time focusing on what separates us and more time discovering what we can accomplish together? This belief in the power of connection is also what inspires our vision for the HUB—a place where organizations and community partners could share space, resources, and opportunities to work alongside one another. But the bigger idea extends far beyond any one building or project. It's about creating a community where people know one another, trust one another, and recognize that they have something meaningful to contribute. What Happens After the Election? The Independent Sector findings are national, not a measurement of trust here in Bonner County. But they offer a hopeful invitation to consider what makes our own community strong—and what we want to strengthen for the future. We don't have to share the same opinions to share the same concerns. We can disagree about how to address a problem while still recognizing that the problem matters. We can hold different beliefs and still show up for the same neighbor. And we can choose to build relationships that are bigger than the differences between us. Elections will come and go. Candidates will win and lose. And we'll continue to disagree about plenty of things. But when the election signs come down, we'll still be neighbors. We'll still share the same schools, roads, businesses, mountains, and hopes for the place we call home. And perhaps the most important thing we can do for the future of Bonner County isn't to agree on everything. It's to remember how to work together anyway. What brings you together with people who see the world differently? We'd love to hear your thoughts. Read the research: Independent Sector — Trust in Nonprofits and Philanthropy, July 2026 

What Are We Building for the Next Generation? Every community is under construction. Not necessarily with cranes and concrete, but through the decisions we make, the opportunities we create, the organizations we strengthen and the relationships we build. The question is: What are we building—and who will inherit it? This month, that question kept showing up in some pretty remarkable places around Bonner County. It's there in classrooms and hangars, where young people are getting opportunities to learn by doing. Students aren't simply being asked what they want to become someday. They're being introduced to mentors, tools, trades and experiences that allow them to discover possibilities for themselves. Sometimes those opportunities lead somewhere no one expected. Like two local high school students deciding they want to build a rocket capable of reaching 60,000 feet. It's there in our nonprofit community, too. We often measure community work by how much we do: meals served, people housed, rides provided, dollars raised. Those numbers matter. But building for the future requires us to ask a harder question: What actually changed? Strong communities need strong organizations—organizations with the people, tools, information, partnerships and capacity to learn from what's working and improve what isn't. Sometimes progress isn't about starting something new. Sometimes it's about making what already exists stronger. And increasingly, we're seeing another kind of building happening throughout our community: organizations building together. This month's newsletter shares a wonderful example involving Numerica Credit Union, Schweitzer, our local schools and Sandpoint Cinemas. Each brought something different to the table, and together they created an opportunity for local kids that none could have created quite the same way alone. That idea feels especially important right now. Perhaps the greatest resources in our community aren't always the things we're missing.  Perhaps they're the people, organizations, spaces, expertise and generosity that already exist here and the connections we haven't made between them yet. The Future Is Already Under Construction At the EnVision Center, we're thinking about that question too. We're building new partnerships around transportation. We're preparing for another Festival of Trees that brings hundreds of people together around a hometown tradition. And we're continuing the conversation about the HUB and what could happen if Bonner County thought differently about the spaces, resources and infrastructure our community already has. But this isn't only a CREC question. It's one for all of us. The investments we make in a student today may shape a career twenty years from now. The organization we strengthen may be there when a family needs it years from now. The partnership we begin over coffee might solve a problem none of us could solve alone. We may never meet all of the people who benefit from what we build today. That's the beautiful thing about building for the future. We don't have to. We just have to leave something worth inheriting. The future of Bonner County is already under construction. What will you help build?

A new Idaho study reveals a challenge facing nonprofits across our state—and an opportunity for CREC to think differently about impact. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we count a lot of things. We count how many neighbors walk through our doors. We track the needs they bring with them. We know how many people need help with housing, utilities, transportation, food, medical care and other challenges. We track referrals, resources and connections. Those numbers matter. They help us understand what is happening in our community. They help us identify emerging needs. They help us tell funders and donors how their investments are being used. But lately, we've been asking ourselves a harder question: Are we counting what we do—or measuring what actually changes because we did it? That question came into sharper focus after reading a new report from the Nonprofit Center, a program of the Idaho Community Foundation, developed in partnership with the M.J. Murdock Charitable Trust and Dialogues In Action. The Practices of Evaluating Impact in Idaho Nonprofits The study interviewed 20 nonprofit leaders from different regions, organizational sizes and mission areas across Idaho. Its findings felt remarkably familiar. Idaho nonprofit leaders overwhelmingly believe in evaluating their impact. The problem isn't a lack of desire or commitment. It's capacity: too few people, too little time, insufficient specialized skills and systems, and funding that often supports programs without supporting the infrastructure necessary to determine whether those programs are actually working. We saw ourselves all over those pages. We Know What We Did. What Happened Next? Suppose a neighbor comes to CREC facing eviction. Our Client Resource Specialist sits with them, listens to what's happening, helps navigate available resources, connects them to another organization, and perhaps helps identify funding that keeps them housed. We can record that interaction. Housing need: addressed. But what we really want to know is: Were they still housed six months later? If we provide or connect someone with transportation assistance, did that help them keep their job? If we connect someone to workforce training, did they eventually become employed? If we help keep someone's electricity on during a crisis, was that enough breathing room for the household to stabilize, or were they back in crisis three months later? If three organizations collaborate to help one family, did that produce a better outcome than each organization working independently? Those are much harder questions. And according to the Idaho study, we're hardly alone in asking them. Leaders specifically reported wanting to understand lasting outcomes a year or even three years later, while often lacking the methods, permissions and resources to follow those outcomes. That distinction matters. Because people served is not the same thing as lives changed. Sometimes We're Measuring What Someone Else Asked Us to Measure Another finding really struck us. Nonprofits collect enormous amounts of information because funders, government programs, national organizations and other partners require it. But those required metrics aren't always the things nonprofit leaders themselves believe best demonstrate impact. The report gives the example of a housing organization that tracks what its grants require while wanting to understand something much more consequential: whether people achieve sustainable housing and what the long-term cost savings might be. That resonates. A grant may ask us: How many people did you serve? That's reasonable. But we might be more interested in: How many people needed us less six months later? Those aren't necessarily the same measure. And sometimes, in our effort to prove how much we're doing, we risk creating an incentive to count activity rather than understand change . The Answer Isn't Just More Data Here's where the report gets even more interesting. Many nonprofits aren't actually suffering from a lack of information. They already have databases, CRMs, surveys, reporting requirements, client stories and other sources of data. The problem is knowing what to do with all of it. The study describes a “data-to-narrative gap”: organizations may have strong data but struggle to translate it into something useful for improving programs, or into a compelling explanation that donors, businesses, policymakers and community members can understand. Again: hello, mirror. CREC has a CRM. We have client information. We have spreadsheets. We have stories. We have grant reports. We have statistics. We have staff members who know things about our community because they hear them every single day. But having information and having an evaluation system aren't the same thing. And building that system takes something nonprofits are perpetually short on: capacity. What If We Didn't Each Have to Figure This Out Alone? This is where the report collided with another conversation we've been having at CREC. For some time, we've been exploring a much bigger idea for the campus we occupy—something we're calling The HUB . At its simplest, The HUB asks: What if Bonner County shared more? More space. More resources. More ideas. More connection. But perhaps we should add another word to that list: More infrastructure. The Idaho report identifies fragmented data systems, limited evaluation expertise, insufficient staff capacity and lack of protected time as barriers across the nonprofit sector. It also specifically recommends peer-learning communities, practical evaluation training and stronger systems for turning data into narratives people can understand. That got us thinking. Why should every small nonprofit in Bonner County have to independently become an expert in impact evaluation? Or CRM management? Or data visualization? Or grant reporting? Or storytelling? What if some of that capacity could be shared? Imagine several organizations being able to access common expertise that helps them determine what they should measure, build better systems for collecting it, understand what the information is telling them and translate it into stories and evidence that make all of us better at serving our community. That is what we mean when we talk about The HUB being more than shared office space. The opportunity isn't simply to put organizations under one roof. It's to build infrastructure that makes those organizations stronger. Numbers AND Stories There was another finding in the report that gives us hope. Idaho nonprofits are getting better at combining quantitative data with human stories. They're listening to more voices, using feedback to change programs, learning from peers and creating regular opportunities for teams to reflect on what's working and what isn't. We believe strongly in that combination. Because behind every number at CREC is a person. A spreadsheet can tell us that someone needed transportation assistance. The story tells us that the car repair allowed a single mom to continue getting to work while getting her child to school. The number matters. The story tells us why. And good evaluation should help us understand whether the intervention actually created lasting change. So Where Do We Go From Here? We don't have a beautiful new impact-measurement system to unveil at the end of this article. That's actually why we're writing it. We're learning. We're asking whether some of the things we've traditionally celebrated are the right things to measure. We're looking more closely at the information we already collect. We're thinking about how we follow outcomes instead of simply recording interactions. And we're asking what CREC's role might be in helping build some of this capacity not only for ourselves, but alongside other organizations in our community. The Idaho study concludes with an important idea: nonprofit leaders don't need to be convinced that measuring impact matters. They already believe it. What needs to change are the conditions that prevent them from doing it well, the funding, time, talent, infrastructure and systems surrounding the work. We think that's worth paying attention to. Because Bonner County has no shortage of people doing good. Perhaps our next opportunity isn't simply to do more . Perhaps it's to become better at understanding what works , sharing what we learn, and building the infrastructure that allows all of us to create deeper, longer-lasting change. At CREC, we'll keep counting. But we're also going to keep asking the harder question: What changed? And maybe that's a question worth asking together. Want to dig deeper? Read the Idaho Community Foundation Nonprofit Center's full report, The Practices of Evaluating Impact in Idaho Nonprofits , explore the Idaho Community Foundation's broader nonprofit-sector research , or discover  The HUB .

There's Room at the Table: A Conversation with Innovia Foundation Generosity is most powerful when it stays close to home. That is the philosophy driving the work of Innovia Foundation , and on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , I sat down with two of the people living it out every day right here in North Idaho. Tonya Sherman is the Regional Engagement Manager for Bonner and Boundary counties, and Britt Towery is the Director of Regional Engagement for North Idaho, covering Kootenai, Shoshone, Benewah, and Latah counties. Between the two of them, they are out in our communities every day, building relationships, listening to local needs, and connecting donors with the organizations and causes that matter most to the people who live here. So what is a community foundation, exactly? Innovia covers a 20-county region across eastern Washington and northern Idaho. Unlike a private foundation, which typically has a single source of funding and a narrow initiative, Innovia draws from a broad base of generous donors and reinvests those dollars directly back into the communities where they were given. As Tonya put it, they are a forever organization. The principal of their funds is invested for the long term, which means Innovia is not just responding to today's needs — they are building capacity for whatever the community needs five, ten, and fifty years from now. That long view is part of what makes this conversation worth having. Innovia started in 1974 when a group of forward-thinking women from the Junior League looked at the upcoming World's Fair in the Inland Northwest and asked a simple but powerful question: what happens after this is over? They started the organization with $10,000. Today the assets are over $300 million. Since 1974, over $6.6 million has been invested right here in Bonner County, often quietly, without fanfare, simply because donors trusted that it would be put to good use. One of the initiatives Tonya and Britt are most excited about right now is the Longest Table . The concept is exactly what it sounds like: long tables set up in public spaces where everyone is welcome to come, share a meal, and have a conversation. Innovia provides small grants to help communities host these gatherings, covering basics like tables, chairs, food, and permits. There is no agenda, no program, no pressure. Just neighbors sitting down together. As Britt put it, in a time when so many of us pull into our driveways, close the garage door, and stay behind our fences, the Longest Table is a simple but meaningful act of community building. Several are already being planned across the region, including one at Sandpoint High School and one downtown in partnership with Leadership Sandpoint alumni and NAMI. Another initiative worth knowing about is the Bonner Boundary Forever Fund , an endowment fund specifically designed to invest in Bonner and Boundary counties in perpetuity. The goal is to reach $500,000, with a generous matching contribution already in place. Grants from this fund have already distributed over $42,000 back into our community, including helping a nonprofit purchase a vehicle. If you are doing any estate planning and want your generosity to continue long after you are gone, even something as simple as a 5% bequest could make an extraordinary difference. Britt shared that if every person in our region left just 5% of their estate, that would translate to roughly $2 billion for local needs over time. Innovia also responded to the recent Spokane wildfires in a way that says a lot about who we are as a region. Donors from across the region and beyond sent contributions, from large gifts to children's penny drives, trusting Innovia to steward those dollars with care and get them to the nonprofits on the front lines as quickly as possible. It is a beautiful picture of what our region is really about — neighbors showing up for neighbors, with Innovia making sure every dollar finds its way to where it is needed most. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we believe that stronger communities are built through connection, and that the organizations doing the most meaningful work deserve to be seen and supported. Innovia is doing exactly that, investing in the infrastructure of generosity that makes everything else possible. If you would like to get involved, whether as a donor, a leadership council member, a Longest Table host, or simply someone who wants to learn more, visit the Innovia website or give Tonya or Britt a call. They will pick up. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Tonya Sherman and Britt Towery.

From Bookmarks to Chairlifts: Numerica and Schweitzer Team Up for Kids Some of the best ideas come from two organizations asking the same question at the same time: how do we show up for our kids? On a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , I sat down with Jody Azevedo, VP of Market Development at Numerica Credit Union, and Taylor Prather, Marketing and Communications Manager at Schweitzer, to talk about a partnership that is as creative as it is community minded. Together they launched Numerica’s Ski to Read program , an initiative that gives middle school students a simple and genuinely fun incentive to keep reading — a free single day lift ticket or movie package complete with popcorn and soda, earned by logging ten hours of reading time. The idea grew out of a conversation Numerica had with Dr. Meyer at the school district when they first came to Sandpoint. They wanted to do something meaningful for local students and learned that middle schoolers are a group that often needs the most encouragement to keep reading. Schweitzer was the natural partner. As Taylor put it, any opportunity to introduce or reintroduce skiing to kids and families is something Schweitzer is always going to say yes to. The program launched after Labor Day last year, kicking off with a middle school assembly that — by all accounts — was wonderfully, gloriously loud. Students who logged their ten hours of reading turned a form into their teacher and chose their reward. Fifty-six chose lift tickets to Schweitzer. Forty-nine chose movie tickets and a night at Sandpoint Cinemas . When charter schools and homeschool families heard about it, they asked to participate too, and the answer was absolutely yes. What makes this program work is that it meets kids where they are. Not every student skis, and not every family has easy access to the mountain. By offering both options, every child who puts in the reading time has something worth working toward. We can all admit that skiing is expensive — and that is exactly why programs like this one matter.Numerica’s Read to Ski program ensures that local kids get to experience Schweitzer's magic regardless of their family's budget. Taylor also shared something worth sitting with. It is surprising how many families in Sandpoint have never been up to Schweitzer, even those who have lived here for years. Programs like this one quietly close that gap, one lift ticket at a time. The partnership itself is a great example of what becomes possible when two strong community anchors decide to work together rather than separately. Numerica, Schweitzer, and the school district all had a hand in shaping the program, and the result is something none of them could have built alone. Sandpoint Cinemas rounds out the partnership, making the program accessible to every student. All organizations involved bring a deep commitment to youth programming beyond Read to Ski. Numerica's CARES for Kids program directs the majority of their philanthropic giving toward children's programming across all of their markets, contributing over $1 million last year. Schweitzer's donations committee, which Taylor sits on, gives back roughly $300,000 to the greater Sandpoint community. They also partner with Ski Idaho on a fifth and sixth grade passport program that lets kids ski at resorts across the state for around $40, and they bring school groups up throughout the week for rentals, lessons, and lift tickets. Jody also mentioned Numerica's support of Panhandle Alliance for Education, including a first grade reading program called Ready to Read (fka Learning with Lucky), where every first grader receives a stuffed puppy to read to and earns charms and prizes as they hit reading milestones. As Jody put it, you have to learn to read before you read to learn. It is a simple idea with a big heart behind it. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we love seeing partnerships like this one take root in our community. We are also proud to share that Numerica is the presenting sponsor of this year's Festival of Trees — a relationship that speaks to their deep commitment to showing up for Bonner County in meaningful ways. When local businesses and organizations pool their resources and their reach, the impact goes so much further than any one of them could achieve alone. Numerica’s Read to Ski program is a beautiful example of that, and we cannot wait to see how it grows this year. If you have a middle schooler, keep an eye out for the program launching again after Labor Day. And if you have not been up to Schweitzer lately, maybe this is your sign. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Jody Azevedo and Taylor Prather.

What Makes a Community Rich? When we hear the word rich, it's easy to think about dollars and cents. But some of the greatest measures of a community's wealth have very little to do with money. They're found in the opportunities we create for young people. In whether our neighbors can access the jobs, healthcare and resources available to them. In the people who give their time, talents and resources to make life a little better for someone else. That's the idea we're exploring in this month's edition of A Stronger Community Together. Inside, we visit the Sandpoint Teen Center, where hundreds of local teens are finding far more than a meal—they're finding mentors, experiences and a place to belong. We look at how something as simple as a broken-down car can quickly become a crisis in rural North Idaho, and how our local automotive community is coming together to help keep families moving. And we travel all the way to the mountains of East Tennessee for a little inspiration from Dolly Parton and a reminder that changing the world can start by investing in your own backyard. You'll also find plenty of ways to experience the richness of our community for yourself, with September events and opportunities to connect, plus a look at the work taking shape right now at the EnVision Center. Because perhaps a rich community isn't defined by how much it has. It's defined by how much it makes possible for the people who call it home.

Trading Combat Boots for a New Mission A lot of people find a new hobby or start traveling when they retire. After 30 years of military service, Jason Legler retired and found a new mission. As it turns out, not every veteran knows what resources are available to them when they trade their combat boots for sneakers. And even when they do, knowing where to start can be overwhelming. As a Community Resource Specialist for Veterans Outreach and Community Support with the Idaho Division of Veterans Services , Jason spends his days making sure veterans across North Idaho know they are not alone and that help is closer than they think. On a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , I sat down with Jason to talk about the work he is doing across the northern ten counties of Idaho, from the Panhandle all the way down through north central Idaho to Grangeville. It is a big territory, and Jason covers it the North Idaho way — logging miles on back roads and showing up where he is needed. Jason's background speaks for itself. He served 30 years between active duty and the National Guard, spending the majority of his military career as a Green Beret with Special Forces. He retired in 2021 as the 19th Group Command Sergeant Major. Like so many veterans who find their way into service work after the military, he tried simply being retired for a while and quickly realized that was not going to work for him. He got involved in veteran nonprofits in the Kootenai County area, helped start a Special Forces chapter in North Idaho, and eventually was approached about his current role with the Idaho Division of Veterans Services. He has been in the position since October of 2024 and has hit the ground running. His role is part outreach, part resource navigation, and part relationship building. He goes where veterans are — VFW meetings, American Legion posts, community coffees and breakfasts — because he knows that the most honest conversations happen not at formal events but over a cup of coffee when someone finally lets their guard down. When veterans reach out to him directly, he listens first, helps them figure out what they actually need, and then works to connect them with the right resources. He is clear that his goal is never just to solve the immediate problem, but to help veterans get to a place where they are not back in the same crisis next month. One of the things Jason talked about that is worth highlighting is how overwhelming the landscape of veteran resources can actually be. North Idaho has a high concentration of nonprofits, which is remarkable but can also make it hard to know where to turn when you are already stressed and struggling. Jason serves as that guide, drawing on a wide network of partners including the VFW , American Legion , Idaho Veterans Network , Disabled American Veterans , and many others to find the right fit for each person he works with. He also spoke about something that is gaining real momentum in North Idaho: veteran outreach centers. These are community-based spaces, not government offices, where veterans and their families can access support, find resources, and simply be around people who understand. The Benewah Veteran Outreach Center is one strong example. There are others starting up in Boundary County and here in Bonner County, and Jason sees tremendous potential for this model to grow across the region. That vision lands close to home for us. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we are actively exploring what it would look like to build a collaborative, intergenerational community hub right here in Bonner County — a place where nonprofits, workforce programs, businesses, and community members operate alongside one another, sharing resources and infrastructure so that the organizations doing the most important work are not constantly rebuilding the wheel on their own. What Jason is describing for veterans, a connected, accessible, community-rooted support system, is exactly the kind of outcome a hub like this could help make possible. Organizations serving the same families, separated by a hallway instead of miles. If that vision resonates with you, we would love to have you in the conversation. From where I sit, this is a conversation our community needs to have, and we hope you will be part of it. When I asked Jason what gives him hope in this work, he told me about a veteran he had been working with over a long period of time. She needed help getting her car repaired, a modest amount that would allow her to drive her disabled granddaughter to appointments and get on with her life. The process took a while. There were communication challenges and delays. But when it finally came together and she realized the help was real, she could not even get the words out. She just cried. Her relief , Jason said, is the win. If you are a veteran in need of support, or if you know one, Jason is reachable directly at (208) 985-6632. If you would like to get involved in supporting veterans in our community, he can also help connect you with the right organizations and opportunities. Do not hesitate to call. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Jason Legler.

A new statewide report puts numbers behind something many of us working in the nonprofit sector have felt for some time: the need is growing, the people doing the work are tired, and the systems supporting them are being stretched. The Idaho Community Foundation's 2026 State of the Sector report opens with a simple statement: "Idaho runs on nonprofits." The numbers make the case. More than 81,000 Idahoans work for nonprofits, making the sector Idaho's fifth-largest private-sector employer. Collectively, nonprofits contribute $8.1 billion to Idaho's Gross State Product. These organizations are not simply charities operating on the sidelines of our economy. They are part of the infrastructure that makes our communities work. But that infrastructure is under strain. More than half of Idaho nonprofits reported serving more people than the year before. Fifty-one percent were unable to fully meet demand, 63% expect demand to continue increasing, and 43% dipped into cash reserves to cover costs. The report describes Idaho's nonprofit workforce as "dedicated (but weary)." Those numbers should make all of us pay attention. What does this look like in Bonner County? We don't have to look very far. Our community has an extraordinary number of organizations working on housing, hunger, seniors, youth, veterans, healthcare, arts, recreation, workforce development, domestic violence, transportation, disability services and countless other needs. That abundance speaks volumes about the generosity and initiative of the people who live here. But it also raises an important question: Are we giving those organizations the infrastructure they need to succeed? Every nonprofit needs more than its mission. It needs internet. Accounting. Insurance. Technology. Meeting space. Marketing. HR support. Grant writing. Janitorial services. Administrative support. Volunteer coordination. Often, it needs office space, conference rooms, kitchens, storage, parking and equipment. Today, many organizations are trying to build and pay for those systems independently. At the same time, they are competing for many of the same employees, volunteers, donors and grants. Perhaps the opportunity isn't simply to raise more money. Perhaps we can make the money we already have work harder. What if we shared more? This is one of the questions driving our exploration of the Nonprofit and Economic HUB in Bonner County. Imagine a collaborative, intergenerational campus where nonprofits, workforce programs, businesses, creatives and community members operate alongside one another. Organizations could maintain their own missions and identities while sharing some of the expensive infrastructure underneath them. A small nonprofit might not be able to employ a full-time bookkeeper, IT professional, grant writer or marketing specialist. But what if ten organizations could share one? What if organizations could access conference rooms, technology, training, volunteer pools and professional expertise without each having to recreate those resources? What if retirees with decades of professional experience could mentor emerging nonprofit leaders? What if internships, volunteer opportunities and community service became pathways into employment? What if organizations serving the same families were separated by a hallway instead of miles? That is when a building becomes more than real estate. It becomes infrastructure for collaboration. This is also a workforce conversation The State of the Sector report makes another important point: nonprofit staffing is often dismissed as "overhead," when in reality the people delivering services are the mission. That distinction matters. The HUB isn't only about making rent more affordable. It is an opportunity to explore whether shared employment, stronger benefits, professional development and common services could help smaller organizations compete for and retain talented people. It could also create new jobs in property management, maintenance, reception, technology, finance, administration and other shared functions. In other words, strengthening nonprofits is also economic development . From scarcity to capacity The statewide report ultimately estimates that an additional $200 million in charitable investment could significantly strengthen Idaho nonprofits' ability to meet growing community needs. It concludes that sustaining the sector will require collective action, shared responsibility and sustained investment. Those investments absolutely matter. But here in Bonner County, I think we have an opportunity to ask another question alongside them: What if we could increase capacity not only by putting more money into the existing system, but by redesigning some of the system itself? That doesn't mean every organization belongs under one roof. It doesn't mean every nonprofit should remain independent forever. In fact, closer proximity and deeper collaboration may reveal places where organizations can share programs, combine operations, or even consolidate when it makes sense. The point isn't to predetermine those outcomes. The point is to create an environment where collaboration becomes easier than isolation. The State of the Sector report says Idaho nonprofits are not lacking commitment. They are lacking resources. Here in Bonner County, we have extraordinary people doing extraordinary work. Maybe our next great investment isn't simply in another program, another campaign, or another individual piece of infrastructure. Maybe it's in the ecosystem underneath all of them. That's the conversation we're hoping to build through the HUB. And if you're a nonprofit leader, business owner, donor, volunteer, retiree, young professional, community partner, or simply someone who believes Bonner County can work better together, we want you in it. 

How the Stories We Don't Tell Become the Medicine We Need Storytelling is one of the oldest and most powerful tools we have for building community. It is disarming in a way that debate rarely is. A personal story cannot be refuted. As Jen Jackson Quintano with the Pro-Voice Project put it on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , when someone shares their experience with vulnerability and honesty, it tends to open doors instead of close them. That is the foundation of the Pro-Voice Project. Jen, its founder and executive director, joined me to talk about the work she has been building right here in Sandpoint. The Pro-Voice Project uses storytelling and community conversation to help people share experiences that have often felt unspeakable, centering reproductive health care, and to build connection and understanding across what can feel like very wide divides. Jen's journey to founding the Pro-Voice Project is one of those stories that reminds you that the most meaningful work often finds us when we least expect it. Her background is in writing and storytelling, and before all of this she was an arborist in Sandpoint, running a chainsaw and feeding trees into a chipper. She is quick to point out that you do not need a special degree or an impressive resume to do this kind of work. What you need is passion, a willingness to be vulnerable, and the belief that listening to one another matters. The organization's first event was held in January of 2023 at the Heartwood Center here in Sandpoint, where 15 community members submitted stories and performers shared them from a stage. Nearly 200 people showed up. People who had held their stories for decades described feeling released. Audience members said they finally felt like they were not alone. And in the weeks that followed, Jen kept running into people at the grocery store who quietly pulled her aside to share their own stories for the first time. Since then the Pro-Voice Project has grown in ways Jen never anticipated. They have now put on 18 stage performances across Idaho, from Boise to Moscow to communities across the state. They run writing workshops called Reproductive Writes , where people are invited to put words to their experiences in a safe and supported space. They created a traveling exhibit called Worth of a Woman , which has been displayed at locations around Sandpoint including the library, Bluebird Bakery, and Matchwood, and has since traveled throughout the state. They have produced short documentary films and host watch parties in living rooms and community spaces. And this fall they are embarking on a statewide tour of a new stage production called Good Faith Medical Judgment , which shares the stories of physicians working on the front lines of reproductive health care in Idaho. What comes through clearly in this conversation is Jen's deep commitment to holding space for all stories and all experiences. She is not interested in curating only the most persuasive narratives or pushing people toward a particular conclusion. She wants people to connect. She has held events where the room was genuinely mixed, and has watched people come away saying things like, I still don't know if I would make the same choice, but I understand why she did. That, Jen says, is a win. She also made a point that speaks to something much broader than any single issue. We have become very good at staying separate from one another, whether online or in real life, surrounding ourselves with people who already think like we do. Storytelling, whatever the topic, is one of the most powerful tools we have for bridging that distance. It adds complexity where we have been taught to expect simple answers. It invites empathy where we have learned to expect conflict. A big part of what we do at the Community Resource EnVision Center is help people find the resources and the community they need, and we know firsthand that people cannot access what they need if they are carrying shame, fear, or isolation. We believe that stronger communities are built through connection and that our organizations are doing meaningful work to make people feel seen and valued. When organizations like the Pro-Voice Project create space for people to be heard and to truly hear one another, they are doing work that ripples out far beyond any single conversation. If you would like to get involved, the Pro-Voice Project welcomes volunteers, story submissions, and donations. You can host a watch party or a community conversation in your own living room. You can submit your own story through the story submission form on their website. And you can attend one of their upcoming events, including the Good Faith Medical Judgment stage production coming to Sandpoint on September 25th and Coeur d'Alene on September 26th. A virtual webinar, Courage in the Face of Fear, is also coming up on August 20th and is open to anyone statewide. To learn more, visit the Pro-Voice Project online and explore their story library. Jen's invitation is a simple one: read through those stories and you will understand how complex and nuanced our human experiences really are. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Jen Jackson Quintano.

More Than Food: How the Sandpoint Teen Center Is Nourishing Our Teens They say it only takes one caring adult to change the trajectory of a young person's life. That saying came up near the end of my conversation with Karen Gibbs, lead mentor at the Sandpoint Teen Center , and it stuck with me, because it pretty much describes everything the Teen Center is doing, every single day. Karen joined me on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me to talk about the work happening at one of Sandpoint's most quietly essential organizations. She came to this role semi-retired, having spent most of her career in the corporate world. Her first interview was with Joan Avery, the Teen Center's founder, who asked her simply: do you like to play games? Karen said yes, and she has not looked back. The Sandpoint Teen Center has been serving local teens for about 20 years, founded by Joan Avery and a gentleman named Mr. Payne on the belief that young people need a safe place to land after school. Today the Teen Center serves seventh through twelfth graders across all school districts, including homeschooled students, at two locations. Their new site is upstairs at 1333 Superior Street, right across from the middle school, generously hosted by Upside Kombucha. Their second location is at First Lutheran Church, where most of the hot meals are prepared. The tagline says it well: nurturing teens through meals, movement and mentorship. The numbers tell part of the story. Of the roughly 1,800 teens enrolled in the local school district, 995 have checked in at the Teen Center. From September through April of this past school year, they logged 14,000 visits. On any given day, Karen and her team feed 80 to 100 teens, with a core group of about 50 who stay and engage in activities, games, homework help, arts and crafts, and career exploration. Some teens come in asking for protein before practice. Some come in because the Teen Center is the only place they ate lunch that day — Karen shared that for some students, eating at school just isn't considered cool, but coming to the Teen Center is a different story. Food insecurity is real among Sandpoint's teen population, and Karen doesn't sugarcoat it. She has heard from teens who are eating one meal a day, whose parents are working long hours, who are surviving on the same meal every night. The Teen Center fills that gap Monday through Friday, 2:30 p.m. to 5:30 p.m., and on Fridays starting at 1:30 p.m. This year they are also bringing a shuttle to the front of the school at bus time, hoping to reach even more teens who might not be able to make it to the center itself. But as Karen made clear, it has never been just about food. The Teen Center is a no-phone zone, which sounds simple but creates something increasingly rare — a space where teenagers actually talk to each other, play games, and make eye contact. Volunteer teens serve as greeters and help run activities. Staff are trained in CPR, first aid, and STEM programming. Career exploration is a growing focus, with plans to launch a weekly career corner featuring videos that show teens the full range of jobs available inside industries they might never have considered. And field trips — paintball, disc golf, bowling, horseback riding, hiking, ice skating, and camping — give teens access to experiences that many of them simply would not have otherwise. As Karen put it, for some of these teens, a Teen Center outing is the only thing they did all summer. One moment Karen shared has stayed with me. A teenager who had been banned from the center multiple times for his behavior came back this past year completely turned around. He followed the rules, focused on his sport, made it to a state championship, and then showed up to help the staff move to their new location. Those are the moments, Karen said, that make this work worth everything. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we see every day how connection and community are the foundation everything else is built on. The Sandpoint Teen Center is doing exactly that work, one teenager at a time. If you would like to get involved, the Teen Center is actively looking for mentors and a cook for both locations, and they welcome volunteers who want to come in and just play ping pong or help with an activity. They are also running a logo design contest open to the public through September 1st. Submit your design to sandpointteencenter@yahoo.com. And keep an eye out for their annual car wash fundraiser in August and Breakfast with Santa later this year. To learn more or register a teen, visit sandpointteencenter.com. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Karen Gibbs.

JULY Newsletter: The People Who Say Yes Every thriving community has people who quietly make it stronger. They're the students willing to try something new. The volunteers who raise their hand to serve. The mentors who pass their knowledge to the next generation. They're ordinary people whose simple decision to say "yes" creates extraordinary ripple effects. That's the inspiration behind this month's issue of A Stronger Community Together. Inside, you'll find stories about courage, leadership, service, and the small decisions that help shape the future of Bonner County. You'll also find updates on what's next at the EnVision Center as we continue investing in the people, partnerships, and ideas that strengthen our community. We hope these stories leave you asking one simple question: Where is my next "yes"?

Idaho Runs on Nonprofits: A Conversation with the Idaho Community Foundation If you have ever wondered whether the nonprofit sector really matters to Idaho's economy, Bill Pfinsgraff has some numbers that might surprise you. On a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , I sat down with Bill, the Philanthropic Advisor for the northern region of the Idaho Community Foundation , covering the northern ten counties of our state. He is one of those people who is just genuinely fun to talk to, and what he shared about the state of philanthropy in Idaho, who is giving, who is moving here, and what it all means for organizations like ours, was both eye-opening and encouraging. First, the numbers. According to the Idaho Community Foundation's State of the Sector report , nonprofits in Idaho are the fifth largest sector in the state, just behind construction. They employ over 81,000 people and contribute $13.1 billion to Idaho's economy. Let that sink in for a moment. The nonprofit sector is not a side note to Idaho's story. It is a central chapter. The Idaho Community Foundation, or ICF, was founded in 1988 and exists for one purpose: to support the nonprofit sector across the state of Idaho. Unlike a private foundation, which typically has a single source of funding and a single initiative, ICF draws from a broad base of donors and supports a wide variety of organizations and causes. They manage endowment funds, create charitable giving vehicles for individuals and families, and work to build the long-term capacity of nonprofits throughout Idaho. One of his favorite phrases says it well: Idaho runs on nonprofits. One of the most interesting parts of our conversation was about the difference between restricted and unrestricted giving. Bill made the case, gently but clearly, that unrestricted gifts are the most powerful kind of donation a nonprofit can receive. Restricted funding, while well intentioned, can sometimes create real problems. He shared an example of an organization that received a grant to renovate a building and then found themselves unable to use that building for anything beyond a very narrow set of purposes specified by the grant. The building sits there, maintained but underutilized, while the organization's actual needs go unmet. Unrestricted gifts, on the other hand, allow organizations to respond to what is actually happening on the ground and to evolve their mission as the community's needs change. Bill also shared some fascinating findings from ICF's New Idahoans Study, a research project that looked at who is moving to Idaho, where they are coming from, and how to connect them with local nonprofits. The majority of new residents are coming from California, with Washington state a close second. And contrary to what many people assume, it is not primarily retirees making the move. It is young families who could not afford to raise children where they came from and see Idaho as a place where they can build a life. These newcomers tend to be community minded and genuinely want to get involved. The challenge is connecting them with local organizations rather than defaulting to the national nonprofits they already know. The study also surfaced something worth noting. Idaho is third in the nation in volunteerism, which speaks to something real and good about who we are as a state. But we rank 47th in philanthropic giving. Bill believes a number of factors contribute to that gap, including the large percentage of new residents still finding their footing, the lack of large private foundations in our state compared to others, and the simple reality that Idaho is becoming increasingly unaffordable. When housing costs are climbing toward twice the ratio seen during the 2007 housing bubble, people have less margin to give financially, even when they genuinely want to. The solution, Bill says, is not to give up on those donors but to meet them where they are. Low barriers of entry. Family friendly volunteer opportunities. Community events that introduce people to organizations without immediately asking for a major commitment. Build the relationship first, and the giving will follow. What stayed with me most from our conversation was Bill's answer when I asked him what his favorite part of the job is. He said this work has restored his faith in humanity. Every day he meets people whose only goal is to support their community and give back to people they have never met. In a world where the loudest voices online are often the most discouraging, he gets to see people at their best. That is something worth holding onto. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we believe that a strong community depends on a strong nonprofit sector, and a strong nonprofit sector depends on donors, volunteers, and organizations working together with trust and intention. The Idaho Community Foundation is doing important work to make that possible across our entire state. To learn more about the Idaho Community Foundation, their grant programs, or how to create a charitable fund, visit idahocf.org. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Bill Pfinsgraff.

The Voices Behind the Voices Every episode of A Little Birdie Told Me features a guest sharing their story, their mission, and their passion for this community. What most listeners don't know is that behind so many of those episodes, there have been two teenagers from Priest River who drove over, set up the equipment, managed the sound, and made sure it all came together. This one is for them — and hopefully future interns too. On a recent and very special episode, our Executive Director Katie Begalke turned the microphone around and interviewed our very own podcast interns, Audrey McKinney and Hunter Patterson. Audrey is 17 and just finished her junior year. Hunter is 18 and heading off to college to study law. Both found their way to us through their homeschool community, Classical Conversations, and both have been showing up faithfully each week for the past two years to do work that most adults would find intimidating. When Audrey first heard about the opportunity, she wasn't sure what she was getting into. She had no idea she'd be trusted to actually edit the episodes. As she put it, she didn't even know how to put something on a thumb drive. Hunter was similarly unsure, but decided that if he never went after an opportunity like this, he never would. So he wrote up his application, sent it in, and the rest is history. What they learned goes well beyond the technical. Yes, they can now talk about lighting, camera angles, the rule of thirds, and why you point a light at the ceiling instead of directly at your subject. Hunter even brought knowledge from his 3D animation work in Blender and found that the principles translated beautifully to physical filmmaking. But the bigger lessons were the ones that sneak up on you. Audrey talked about how simply listening to the interviews over two years gave her a front row seat to the depth and breadth of nonprofit work happening in Bonner County. The needs, the people, the passion. It opened her eyes in ways she didn't expect. Hunter talked about responsibility, about learning to manage a schedule, to show up, to communicate, to troubleshoot when things don't go perfectly, which in podcasting, they never do. Before wrapping up their time with us, the two of them created a standard operating procedure document, a step-by-step guide with photos walking through the entire production process from start to finish, so whoever comes next has a roadmap. That is not a small thing. That is the kind of thoughtfulness that says everything about who these two young people are. Audrey is heading to Taiwan at the end of August for a full academic year abroad through the Rotary Youth Exchange program, living with three different host families, attending a local high school, and learning Mandarin along the way. Hunter is heading to college to study law, with video production and technology staying close as passions he plans to carry forward. We could not be more proud of both of them. When Katie asked what advice they would give to future interns, Audrey said it simply: come with an open heart and open ears. Just listen. Hunter said: if you're nervous, just do it. The work environment here is forgiving, and there is so much room to learn. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we talk a lot about community and connection and the power of showing up. Audrey and Hunter have embodied all of that, each week, for two years. They have helped amplify the voices of dozens of nonprofits and community leaders across North Idaho, and in doing so, they have grown into two remarkably thoughtful, capable, and generous young people. We are going to miss them so much. But we have a feeling we haven't heard the last from either of them. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me, hosted by Community Resource EnVision Center Executive Director Katie Begalke. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Audrey and Hunter.

A Little Bit SASi: The Organization Serving Sandpoint Seniors for Over 50 Years If you haven't heard of Sandpoint Area Seniors Inc. , you might know them better by their nickname: SASi. On a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , I sat down with William Brasch, their new development director, to talk about the work they're doing and why it matters so much to the health of our community. William is about as new to Sandpoint as it gets. He had only been here four weeks when we recorded this conversation, having relocated from Washington after landing the role at SASi. His background is a fun one — he started out thinking he wanted to be a chef, earned degrees in culinary arts and nutrition, and later got his MBA before finding his way into nonprofit development work at a Washington nonprofit serving at-risk and homeless youth. When the role at SASi came open, the fit was clear on both sides. His background in food and nutrition pairs naturally with one of SASi's most important programs, and the organization had been looking for the right person for quite some time. So what does SASi actually do? More than most people realize. The organization started over 50 years ago as a simple gathering space for seniors, and William told me the story of how it began with two wives who wanted to create a place where they could keep an eye on their husbands while doing crafts. It's a founding story that feels very Sandpoint to me, practical, community minded, and a little bit clever. From those humble beginnings, SASi has grown into a full service senior support organization tackling two of the most pressing issues facing older adults in our community: food insecurity and social isolation. Their home delivered meals program is one of the most meaningful things happening in Bonner County. Monday through Friday, staff prepare hot and cold meals and volunteers deliver them directly to seniors across all of Bonner County, including our rural areas where isolation can be especially acute. William told me about going on a ride along where he met volunteers ranging from age 80 down to five years old — five year olds who go out with their parents each week, deliver meals, and write little notes to the seniors they serve. As a father of five, that really touched him. It touched me too. SASi also loans out medical equipment at no cost, offers a full calendar of activities and shared lunches at their center, and recently hosted an AI presentation for seniors that drew a big crowd. They have a volunteer who provides regular tech support, which matters more than it might sound when so much of daily life now happens online. One of the things William said that has stayed with me is his observation about aging and stigma. SASi serves anyone 50 and older, but reaching that younger generation of seniors requires getting past the idea that walking through their doors means admitting you're old. As William put it, we're all aging and there's nothing we can do about it. There is no shame in finding community and support along the way. His perspective on why all of this matters is worth sharing. The people coming through SASi's doors are the people who built this community — the farmers, teachers, government workers, and Rotary members who have already given so much. They deserve to be served in return. That idea connects with what we believe at the EnVision Center every day. A strong community takes care of all of its members across every stage of life. If you would like to get involved, reach out to SASi's office administrator Arie, who can connect you with volunteer opportunities, meal delivery routes, or information about upcoming programs. Two events worth putting on your calendar: SASi Uncorked, a wine tasting fundraiser on August 15th, and SASi's Art Alive, a live art event and auction at Little Panida on September 12th. Welcome to Sandpoint, William. We are really glad you're here. And something tells us the SASi community is too. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from William Brasch.

Strong Leaders, Strong Organizations, Stronger Communities Some people retire and head for the beach. Phil Hough is not one of those people. Not when there is still community work to be done. On a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , I sat down with Phil Hough, a Sandpoint community member whose career has taken him from five-star hotels to wilderness conservation to a brand new chapter as a nonprofit consultant and coach. His journey is one of those rare stories where every chapter seems to have been preparing him for the next one, even when he didn't know it yet. Phil spent 20 years in the hospitality industry, starting at the five-diamond Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs and going on to work at Hyatt flagship properties in Scottsdale, San Francisco, Lake Tahoe, Monterey, and beyond. He became a Certified Meeting Professional and a Learning Environment Specialist, earned through years of experience and intensive training. He worked on three presidential visits. He learned, as he put it, that people are just people with the same basic needs, and that serving others well means really understanding what those needs are. When he and his wife Deb moved to Bonner County in 2002, Phil was ready for something new. He got involved with the local Native Plant Society, dug into forest planning issues, and eventually helped found the Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness, an organization he led for 21 years before retiring from the role earlier this year. Along the way he also helped found the Idaho Trails Association and remains on its advisory board today. The Friends of Scotchman Peaks grew to a staff of five, hundreds of annual volunteers, and a suite of community programs including guided hikes, a trail ambassador program, a trail stewardship program, and the Winter Tracks youth education program, which gets 450 to 550 students from schools across Bonner County and into Montana out into nature each winter. It is a remarkable body of work. And Phil is just getting started on the next thing. He has recently launched Hough Consulting and Coaching, built around a tagline that pretty well sums up his philosophy: strong leaders, strong organizations, stronger communities. The idea is straightforward. Many nonprofits in Bonner County and beyond are relatively young, passion-driven, and led by people who care deeply about their mission but may not have had formal training in the business and management side of running an organization. Phil can help with both. On the consulting side, he works with organizations on structure, bylaws, human resources practices, board development, and strategic planning. On the coaching side, he works with the individuals doing the leading, helping them develop the resilience, clarity, and personal strength to do this work sustainably over the long haul. 

Building Confidence, One Credential at a Time Sandpoint High School has always been a source of pride in our community but, what's happening there right now might just take it to a whole new level! I had the privilege of sitting down with two of the people making it happen. Jeralyn Mire is the Post-Secondary Transition Counselor at Sandpoint High School, a role she describes with a laugh as "a really fancy title, no extra pay," and Alex Gray is a teacher and Career and Technical Education Director who is starting his 25th year at the school. Together, they painted a picture of a high school that is doing far more than most people realize, and a new facility that is about to make it even better. Every student in Idaho public education has $4,125 in advanced opportunity funding available to them, money that can be used for industry certifications, workforce training, college credits, and AP tests. That means a student at Sandpoint High School can graduate not just with a diploma, but with an A-plus IT certification, a commercial driver's license, a certified nursing assistant credential, SolidWorks certification, an American Welding Society certificate, and more, often at little or no cost to their family. One of Alex's students is driving a water truck for a fire crew this summer. Four young women are starting their EMT training in the fall. A student who came in from California and wanted to get straight to work crammed three of Alex's classes into two years and is now employed in the field. These are not hypothetical outcomes. They are happening right now, right here in Sandpoint. Jeralyn made a point worth sitting with. She said that for a lot of students, the goal isn't necessarily a four-year degree, and that's okay. What matters is having a plan. Whether that's military service, a two-year program, a certification, or heading straight into the workforce, the school's job is to help students take that first confident step. And what's becoming clearer is that the skills students build through Career and Technical Education, what the school calls CTE, don't close doors. They open them. A student who earns their CNA certification in high school might go on to become a nurse or a doctor. A student who learns IT fundamentals might land a job at a university help desk while finishing a computer science degree. The credential is a launchpad, not a ceiling. Alex put it in a way that I loved. He said that if a student takes his class and decides they hate computers, he considers that just as big a success as the student who earns every certification. Finding out what isn't for you, while it's free and while you're still in high school, is enormously valuable. How much better to discover that in a classroom than after four years and a degree in something you can't stand. Now, about that new building. A brand new Career and Technical Education Center is opening on the south side of Sandpoint High School this fall, funded in large part by the Idaho Career Ready Students Grant, which Dr. Meyer pursued with what Alex described simply as tenacity. The center includes four classrooms and two large labs, each purposefully designed for the programs they'll house. The CNA classroom has hospital beds and sinks built in, finally giving nursing students a real simulation of the environment they're training for. The residential carpentry lab has a garage door tall enough to actually build things in. Alex's IT classroom has dedicated storage and workspace for the student interns who repair Chromebooks for every school in the district. A sports medicine program now has a permanent home. JROTC has been brought under the CTE umbrella, opening up new funding and professional development opportunities. And the culinary program, which went on a two year-long hiatus when its teacher retired, is coming back to life in the spring. The automotive lab is the one piece that won't open until fall of 2027, and that's intentional. Local automotive businesses have already toured the facility, weighed in on equipment, and some have even set aside money to help purchase lifts and tools. Community service groups have stepped up too. When it opens, it will be done right. I mentioned to Alex and Jeralyn that from where I sit at the EnVision Resource Center, it is really meaningful to see the community speaking up about what it needs and then watching that actually come to fruition. Our local employers have been asking for workers with real skills. Our students have been asking for relevant, hands-on learning. And our school has been listening. That is exactly the kind of connection that makes a community stronger. A few things worth knowing if you have a student, know a student, or want to get involved. Sandpoint High School welcomes homeschool students into CTE classes when space allows, so that's worth a conversation if it applies to your family. If you have a skill or expertise you'd be willing to share with students, the school wants to hear from you. And if you want to see the new center for yourself, Alex and Jeralyn would be happy to give you a tour. The grand opening is September 15th at 3:30 p.m., and the community is invited. It is just one step, as Jeralyn likes to tell her students. But what a step it is. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Jeralyn Mire and Alex Gray.

We're Building More Than a Bus Shelter Community Resource EnVision Center Awarded 2026 AARP Community Challenge Grant We are excited to share that the Community Resource EnVision Center has been selected as a recipient of a 2026 AARP Community Challenge Flagship Grant ! Out of more than 5,100 applications submitted from across all 50 states, Washington, D.C., Puerto Rico, and the U.S. Virgin Islands, just 750 projects were selected for funding. We are incredibly honored that Bonner County is among them. Thanks to this investment from AARP, we will install a permanent, ADA-accessible SPOT bus shelter and wayfinding hub at the EnVision Center campus on McGhee Road. The project will include a weather-protected shelter, accessible seating, improved site accessibility, transit route information, and directional signage to help visitors easily locate the EnVision Center, the Bonner County VA Clinic, the Department of Labor, Calvary Chapel, and other partner organizations located on campus. While this project may look like "just a bus shelter," it's really about removing barriers. Every day, older adults, veterans, job seekers, and families rely on SPOT transportation to access health care, employment services, and community resources. Today, many of those riders wait without shelter from snow, rain, wind, or summer heat. This project will create a safer, more comfortable, and more welcoming arrival experience while making it easier for residents—especially those age 50 and older—to access the services they need with dignity and independence. "At the EnVision Center, we often talk about removing barriers before they become obstacles," said Katie Begalke, Executive Director of the Community Resource EnVision Center. "Thanks to AARP's generosity, we'll be able to create a safer, more accessible transit stop serving older adults, veterans, job seekers, and families throughout Bonner County. This project is about much more than a bus shelter—it's about ensuring people can access health care, employment opportunities, and community connections with confidence, dignity, and independence." This investment is another exciting step toward our vision of creating a stronger, more connected, and more accessible Bonner County. We are grateful to AARP for recognizing the importance of investing in rural communities and helping us build infrastructure that supports residents of all ages. About the AARP Community Challenge The AARP Community Challenge is part of AARP's nationwide Livable Communities initiative, which funds quick-action projects that improve transportation, public spaces, housing, digital connectivity, disaster resilience, and other community amenities. These investments help communities become safer, more accessible, and more livable for people of all ages. To learn more about the AARP Community Challenge and view this year's funded projects, visit AARP.org/CommunityChallenge.

What Does It Mean to Belong? Every month, as we begin planning this newsletter, I start noticing patterns. Sometimes they emerge through conversations with nonprofit leaders. Sometimes they come from podcast interviews, community meetings, or simply paying attention to what's happening around Bonner County. This month, one word kept finding its way back to me. Belonging. At first, I didn't realize it. We interviewed Dr. Sarah Lynch from the North Idaho Pride Alliance about creating spaces where people can be their authentic selves. We sat down with three nonprofit leaders to talk about the hidden face of homelessness and the importance of truly seeing the people around us. We spoke with veterans, artists, and community builders who reminded us that service doesn't end when one chapter of life closes—it simply finds new expression. On the surface, those seem like completely different conversations. But the more I reflected on them, the more I realized they were all answering the same question. What helps a person feel like they belong? Belonging isn't just about fitting in. It's about being seen. It's about knowing someone cares enough to listen. It's about finding purpose after a difficult season. It's about discovering a community that welcomes your gifts and gives you opportunities to share them. Sometimes belonging begins with a conversation. Sometimes it begins with someone saying, "I see you." Sometimes it begins with a mentor, a volunteer, a neighbor, or a new friend who simply shows up. As I listened back to this month's interviews, I realized every guest was describing the same kind of community—one where people don't have to navigate life alone. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we often talk about connecting people with resources. But the truth is, resources are only part of the equation. The real goal has always been connection. Because resources solve immediate needs. Relationships change lives. That idea was reinforced in June in ways that extended far beyond our podcast studio. We were honored to receive an AARP Community Challenge Grant that will improve access to the EnVision Center through a new SPOT bus shelter, bench, route map, and wayfinding signage. Our annual EnVision Invitational brought together golfers, volunteers, sponsors, and supporters to invest in the future of our community. The Mountain West Bank team transformed one of our walls into a vibrant mural that welcomes everyone who walks through our doors. And we celebrated recording our 100th episode of A Little Birdie Told Me—one hundred conversations that have introduced us to the remarkable people working every day to strengthen Bonner County. Individually, those are accomplishments. Together, they tell a story. A story about creating places where people feel welcome. About organizations choosing collaboration over competition. About neighbors investing in neighbors. About building a community where everyone has the opportunity to connect, contribute, and thrive. As our nation begins celebrating America's 250th anniversary, I've found myself thinking less about what makes us different and more about what brings us together. Maybe that's the real measure of a healthy community. Not that we all share the same experiences. But that we share a commitment to seeing one another, serving one another, and making room for one another. That's the Bonner County I see every day. And it's the one I'm excited to keep building—together. 

Treating the Whole Person: A Conversation with Thin Line Community Support Some organizations fill a gap. Others see a gap nobody else has named yet and build something entirely new to fill it. That's one of the thoughts that stayed with me after a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , when I sat down with Kirk Mickelson, fundraising and outreach coordinator for Thin Line Community Support . Kirk spent more than two decades in the United States Army, retiring as a lieutenant colonel, and has spent the years since building businesses and supporting nonprofits that serve veterans, first responders, and their families. Now he's doing that work right here in North Idaho, and the more he told me about what Thin Line is building, the more I wanted everyone in our community to know about it. Thin Line Community Support was founded about a year ago by Donte Rumore, a former United States Marine who now works as a counselor for veterans in Sandpoint. While working with clients, Donte noticed something important: counseling is a critical piece of the puzzle, but it isn't the whole picture. True well-being involves so much more. It involves movement, community, purpose, and joy. It involves doing the things that make you feel like yourself again. So he built an organization to make those things possible. As Kirk put it, we often tell someone with PTSD to go see a counselor, and that is absolutely part of it. But it's not everything. Everybody has something that makes them tick. For some veterans and first responders, that's mountain biking or jujitsu or working out. For others, it might be yoga, or fishing on the lake in December, or helping build a set for a local theater production. Thin Line exists to connect people with those experiences and to make sure cost and access aren't the things standing in the way. The organization serves veterans at any stage — active duty, National Guard, Reserve, retired — as well as law enforcement, firefighters, and other first responders. The goal is to wrap around the whole person, not just one aspect of their life, and to do it alongside others who understand what service looks and feels like. One of the things I found most compelling about this conversation was Kirk's vision for what Thin Line could become in this community. He talked about the number of well-intentioned, big-hearted people who have started small veteran-focused groups in North Idaho — a skiing group here, a mountain biking group there, a hunting program somewhere else. Each one born from genuine love for this population. But in a community our size, sustaining all of those separately is a challenge. Thin Line's hope is to become the umbrella that brings those groups together, so that when a new veteran moves to Bonner County and mentions they love to ski, there's one place to send them that can connect them with everything available. That kind of network is already starting to take shape. Thin Line has a strong partnership with the VFW post here in Sandpoint — who recently voted to sponsor a scholarship so veterans who qualify but can't afford a jujitsu class can have it funded for them. They're working with the Bonner County Veteran Service Office, so that Tom and his team can refer veterans directly to Thin Line for the well-being piece. They've partnered with Panhandle Bike Ranch for veteran mountain bike afternoons, with Matchwood Brewing for community events, and with Honey Pearl Productions on the upcoming production of 1776, which includes a special pre-funk dinner on the 4th of July benefiting Thin Line directly. Current programs include jujitsu, a fitness membership through UCAN Gym, and a yoga studio that is in its final stages of being set up just across the street from Utara Brewing in downtown Sandpoint. They're still looking for a yoga instructor or two willing to volunteer some time, so if that's you, please reach out. Transportation for veterans in outlying areas is one of the biggest needs Kirk identified, and it's one that multiple organizations in our community are working on together. If you're a veteran who has struggled to get to community care appointments, there's a meeting at the VFW on July 16th from 10 to 2 specifically to address this. Your voice matters there. Coming from a family with deep ties to law enforcement and the military, and having spent time myself as a probation officer, Kirk's story resonated with me personally. He talked about waking up after retirement and asking himself what his purpose was now. The answer he landed on was simple and clear: to serve other veterans and help them work through whatever they're going through. He quoted Bonner County's Veteran Service Officer, Thomas Lindley, who puts it this way — once you get your own life squared away, it's your responsibility to help somebody else get there. That philosophy is the backbone of everything Thin Line is doing. That idea connects deeply with what we believe at the Community Resource EnVision Center . We are stronger together, and the work of building a healthy, connected community is never done by one organization alone. Thin Line is a wonderful example of what's possible when someone identifies a need and has the courage and commitment to do something about it. If you'd like to support Thin Line Community Support, donate, sign up for a program, or just learn more, you can find them at www.thinlinecommunitysupport.org or on Facebook. And if you're a veteran or first responder who has been looking for your people here in North Idaho, I have a feeling they're already waiting for you. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me . Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Kirk Mickelson.

Brothers, Sisters, and a Community That Shows Up Some people serve their country for a few years. Others never really stop. That's the thought that stayed with me after a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , when I sat down with three members of VFW Post 2453 right here in Sandpoint. Yvonne Krieger, who served 31 years in the Air Force and now serves as the post's quartermaster. John Stoddard, a Gulf War veteran and junior vice commander who was at the Pentagon on September 11th. And AJ Cruz, post commander, Vietnam veteran, Purple Heart recipient, and Agent Orange survivor. Between the three of them, they've lived more history than most of us will ever read about. And they are still showing up, every single day, for the veterans and community members around them. The Veterans of Foreign Wars was founded on a simple idea: that those who have served in overseas conflicts deserve camaraderie, advocacy, and support when they return home. But what I learned from my conversation with Yvonne, John, and AJ is that the work of VFW Post 2453 extends far beyond what most people realize. Take medical equipment. The post collects donated wheelchairs, walkers, shower chairs, and other medical supplies and loans them out — to veterans and community members alike — completely free of charge. When someone no longer needs a piece of equipment, they bring it back, and it goes to the next person who does. They recently acquired a 20-foot storage container just to keep up with the volume. No paperwork, no waiting list, no cost. Just people taking care of people. Or consider their firewood program. In partnership with a local church, post members cut and stack cords of wood each year, storing it on land generously donated by Peak Sand and Gravel. Come winter, veterans and low-income community members can come pick up a quarter cord for free. The only requirement for veterans is proof of service. For anyone else in need, that requirement is waived entirely. And then there's the rides. Because many veterans in our area use community care providers rather than the VA hospital, the VA's transportation services often don't cover their trips. Post 2453 steps in to fill that gap, coordinating volunteer drivers to get veterans to their appointments in Sandpoint, Coeur d'Alene, Post Falls, and beyond. They are actively looking for more drivers right now — and it's worth knowing that drivers are compensated for their time and mileage. If you have a few hours to spare and want to make a real difference, this is one of the most direct ways to do it. What struck me most, though, wasn't any single program. It was the spirit behind all of them. These are people who were trained to look out for their fellow service members, and that instinct never really turns off. AJ said it simply: "We reach out to somebody in need and help them out. That's what we were taught in the military. It's just our personalities." That extends to the younger members of the community, too. Once a month, the post opens its doors to the Sandpoint Teen Center, offering a space to relax, play pool, watch movies, and just be together. They give out scholarships through the Voice of Democracy and Patriot's Pen programs. They recognize teachers, first responders, and scouts with annual awards. They host a Thanksgiving turkey shoot that benefits the food bank. Last year alone, Post 2453 gave out $3,000 in scholarships and invested another $14,000 back into the community through direct support for veterans in need. There's also something quieter happening at the post that I think deserves to be said out loud. Every week, a licensed counselor leads a free group session for veterans dealing with PTSD. AJ, who goes himself, put it plainly: "Just about everybody who's been in a combat zone, whether they want to admit it or not, carries something." Having a room full of people who understand that — who have been there — can make all the difference. One of the things I find myself coming back to from this conversation is what Yvonne said about joining. After 31 years in the Air Force, she returned to her hometown and wanted to find her people. The VFW was her first stop. "You kind of lose that camaraderie when you leave the military," she said. "I wanted the same like-minded people." John echoed that with a story I loved: no matter where his work took him, he always found the nearest VFW. "You can walk in, buy everybody a beer, pay for your lunch, and still get change back from a $20. And you've made friends." That's a community. The post is working hard to bring in younger veterans and more women, both of whom are underrepresented in their current membership. To make it easier, they'll cover the first year of membership for anyone who qualifies — no cost, no commitment, just a chance to see if it feels like home. After that, annual dues are $38. Lifetime membership is even less. And if you're not sure whether you qualify, bring in your DD-214 and they'll help you figure it out. At the EnVision Center, we believe that stronger communities are built through connection, and this conversation reminded me of exactly that. Veterans are sometimes a vulnerable population — not because of weakness, but because of what they've carried and what they've seen. Organizations like VFW Post 2453 exist to make sure no one carries it alone. If you're a veteran, or you love one, the post is open Monday through Friday, 10 a.m. to noon, at 1325 Pine Street in Sandpoint, right on the corner of Pine and Division. You can also reach them by email at post2453vfw@gmail.com or by phone at 208-263-9613. As AJ put it: "If you're a veteran who has needs or needs help, your best ticket is the VFW." Their slogan says the rest: No one does more for veterans than the VFW. I believe it. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me . Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Yvonne, John, and AJ.

The Face of Hidden Homelessness in Bonner County What does it mean to truly see someone? It's a question that has come up time and again among our local leaders, and one that took center stage in a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , when I sat down with three nonprofit leaders who are doing some of the most important and least visible work in our community. Trinity Nicholson, Executive Director of Panhandle Special Needs ; Rebecca Little of Bridge Haven (fka Bonner Homeless Transitions ) and Todd Lewis of Helping Hands, Healing Hearts joined me to talk about something that surprises a lot of people: homelessness in Bonner County is real, it's significant, and most of us walk right past it every day without knowing it. Todd opened with a story that set the tone for the whole conversation. He was meeting with a potential donor who told him, without hesitation, "We don't have a homeless problem here." It's a sentiment he hears often. And in a way, it makes sense — because homelessness in a rural community like ours doesn't look the way it does on the evening news. There are no large encampments lining downtown streets. No tent cities visible from the highway. What there is, instead, is a population that has learned out of necessity to be invisible. They're living in RVs parked off rural roads. Sleeping in cars. Couch surfing between friends and family until that option runs out. Camping on Forest Service land and moving every 14 days to stay within the rules. Renting a garage through the winter just to stay warm. Staying in an unsafe situation at home because leaving feels impossible when there's nowhere obvious to go. Todd described it simply: if you've ever driven an old country road and noticed a cluster of RVs and tents, that's a homeless encampment. At 45 miles an hour, it's easy to miss. One of the most striking parts of our conversation was the gap between official data and lived reality. The 2026 Point-in-Time count , the state figure used to direct funding across all of northern Idaho, recorded 180 people experiencing homelessness in the region. Todd served 184 people through his doors last month alone. Sixty of them live on less than $900 a month, which isn't enough to rent a room in Sandpoint, let alone an apartment. Rebecca's program currently supports 54 people under their roof, with additional participants in the community they're still actively serving. Trinity's organization works with 10 to 20 people a year who are experiencing homelessness while also navigating developmental disabilities, one of the most vulnerable and least-counted populations anywhere. When the numbers don't reflect the reality, the funding doesn't follow. And when the funding doesn't follow, the conversation doesn't happen. That's part of why I knew I needed to record this one. What also came through clearly in our conversation was how interconnected these challenges really are. Mental health, substance use, domestic violence, disability, and generational poverty don't exist in isolation. They layer on top of one another, and they layer on top of the logistical realities of rural life. Transportation alone is a major barrier. For example, the Spot Bus has limited hours, many clients live on the outskirts of town and if you work a late shift, you're biking home in the dark, in the rain, in the snow, or you're not going at all. Todd told me about a client who missed two weeks of appointments because the walking bridge near his camp had been closed for structural repairs. With no other safe way in, his whole routine simply stopped because of construction. These are the kinds of barriers that are easy to overlook when you have a car and a schedule that runs on your terms. I'll be honest, this was a good reminder and perhaps something us independent drivers take for granted. All three of my guests spoke about the importance of not just solving the immediate crisis, but walking alongside people through a longer journey. Rebecca talked about the two-year structure of Bridge Haven's program and the accountability, consistency, and genuine relationship-building that makes it work. Trinity described the careful, patient work of helping someone with a developmental disability navigate systems, access benefits, and build the life skills that most of us take for granted. Todd put a rough number on what it takes to help someone reach self-sufficiency: around $10,000, when you factor in first and last month's rent, a reliable vehicle, work-appropriate clothing, and the slow, steady rebuilding of a life. It's not a hand-out. It's an investment, and it takes a whole network of organizations, each bringing their own piece of the puzzle, to make it work. That idea resonates deeply with what I see every day at the Community Resource EnVision Center. The future of this community won't be built by any single nonprofit, agency, or program. It will be built through the connections between them and through the willingness of community members to get involved, even in small ways. You don't need a degree or a big checkbook to make a difference. You need an hour a week. A willingness to sit with someone. The ability to say, "I don't know all the answers, but I know where to start." If you can point someone toward one resource, these organizations will take it from there. We work to know each other and can make the connection. Perhaps the most memorable moment of the whole conversation came when our guests talked about what it means to be truly seen, and how rarely that happens for the people these organizations serve. Many of their clients have spent their whole lives being told, directly or indirectly, that they don't matter. That it won't work out. That they're a lost cause. And when someone sits down across from them, looks them in the eye, and says I see you , something shifts. That kind of belonging is something we all need. And it's something this community has the capacity to offer, if we're willing to look a little closer. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me . Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Trinity, Rebecca, and Todd.

More Alike Than Different: A Conversation About Belonging in North Idaho What does it mean to belong? It's a simple question, but one that sits at the heart of many of the challenges facing our communities today. Whether we're talking about seniors experiencing isolation, veterans navigating civilian life, young people searching for their place in the world, or families new to the area, the desire to feel seen, valued, and connected is something we all share. On a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , host Lindsay Morgan sat down with Dr. Sarah Lynch, Executive Director of the North Idaho Pride Alliance (NIPA) , to discuss the organization's work and the role community plays in helping people thrive. Founded on a vision of creating a North Idaho where LGBTQ+ individuals can connect, belong, and be empowered to thrive, NIPA works year-round through education, advocacy, and networking opportunities. While many people associate Pride organizations with a single annual event, Dr. Lynch shared that their work extends far beyond Pride Month. Through social gatherings, educational forums, community partnerships, and resource referrals, the organization seeks to reduce isolation and create opportunities for meaningful connection. One of the themes that surfaced repeatedly throughout the conversation was the impact of social isolation. North Idaho is a beautiful place to live, but its rural nature can make it difficult for people to find community, access resources, or connect with others who share similar experiences. Dr. Lynch described one of NIPA's greatest goals as creating spaces where people realize they are not alone. For many, simply finding a room full of people who understand their experiences can be life-changing. That idea resonates deeply with the work we see every day at the Community Resource EnVision Center. While the populations we serve may be different, the underlying need is often the same. People are looking for connection. They want to know where to turn for help. They want to feel welcomed, understood, and valued. Whether someone is seeking housing assistance, employment resources, healthcare navigation, or a supportive community, belonging matters. When asked what the greatest need facing the community is today, Dr. Lynch offered a simple but powerful answer: hope. Hope that people can find support. Hope that they can build meaningful relationships. Hope that they can become the best version of themselves in an environment that encourages them to thrive. Perhaps the most encouraging part of the conversation came when discussing this year's Pride in the Park event. What began ten years ago as a small gathering of approximately 150 people has grown into a major community event featuring more than 100 vendors and thousands of attendees. The growth reflects not only the work of one organization but the willingness of community members, businesses, volunteers, and local leaders to come together around the idea that everyone deserves to feel welcome. At the EnVision Center, we often say that stronger communities are built through connection. Conversations like this remind us that while people may come from different backgrounds and experiences, we often share many of the same hopes: to be seen, to belong, to contribute, and to thrive. Those are goals worth working toward together.

More Than a Show: How Honey Pearl Productions is Building Community Through the Arts What happens when a lifelong dream meets a community willing to embrace it? For Connie Kiehn, co-founder of Honey Pearl Productions , the answer has been something much bigger than theater. It's become a way to strengthen community, create opportunities for people to grow, and bring neighbors together through the shared experience of storytelling. Connie's journey to community theater wasn't exactly a straight line. As a child, she loved theater and dreamed of directing productions one day. But like many people, life took her in a different direction. She studied economics, served in the military, built a career, married, and started a family. When she and her husband moved to Sandpoint in 2022, she thought her theater days were largely behind her. Then came an audition for Legally Blonde. To her surprise, Connie landed the lead role of Elle Woods. Her husband, Stephen, was cast opposite her as Emmett Forrest. What began as a fun community experience quickly reignited a passion that had been waiting quietly in the wings for years. That experience ultimately led the couple to launch Honey Pearl Productions. Together, Connie's background in theater and Stephen's experience as an artist and graphic designer created a unique partnership. What started as a dream evolved into a shared family mission: using the performing arts to enrich lives and strengthen the community they now call home. Their first production, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe , was met with overwhelming enthusiasm. Soon followed Cheaper by the Dozen , and now Honey Pearl Productions is preparing for its first musical, 1776 , opening over the Fourth of July holiday. But the organization's impact extends far beyond the stage. Connie believes theater creates a rare environment where people from vastly different backgrounds, personalities, and skill sets work together toward a common goal. Actors, artists, musicians, builders, technicians, designers, introverts, extroverts, students, retirees, and first-time performers all find a place within a production. In a world where people often stay within their familiar circles, theater invites them to collaborate with individuals they might never otherwise meet. That experience can be transformative. Participants discover talents they didn't know they possessed. They build confidence. They learn leadership, communication, teamwork, and problem-solving. Some even find themselves stepping into roles they never imagined for themselves. As Connie shared, one of their behind-the-scenes volunteers recently decided to audition for a stage role after previously insisting she would never perform in front of an audience. Perhaps most importantly, Honey Pearl Productions is committed to making participation accessible. The organization operates entirely through volunteers, and performers are not charged to participate. Their goal is to ensure that financial barriers do not prevent someone from experiencing the joy and personal growth that the performing arts can provide. This year's production of 1776 also marks a new chapter for the organization. On July 4th, Honey Pearl Productions will host a special dinner and performance event benefiting local veterans through Thin Line Community Support. The event combines live music, community gathering, and charitable giving before audiences enjoy the musical itself. Connie hopes it will become the first of many productions that intentionally give back to local causes. At the heart of it all is a belief that art has the power to bring people together. Whether through music, storytelling, costumes, set design, or performance, creative expression allows people to connect in meaningful ways. It creates space for confidence to grow, friendships to form, and community to flourish. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we often talk about the importance of connection. Honey Pearl Productions is a wonderful reminder that some of those connections happen not in boardrooms or meeting halls, but under stage lights, behind the curtain, and through the shared experience of creating something beautiful together. Because sometimes the greatest impact isn't measured by the number of tickets sold. It's measured by the lives changed along the way. For tickets to the show visit 1776: Honey Pearl Productions

More Than Fish: Why Protecting Our Water Protects Our Community When most people hear the name Trout Unlimited, they assume it's an organization focused on fishing. And while fishing is certainly part of the story, a recent conversation with Cathy Gidley and Chip Corsi revealed something much broader: Trout Unlimited is really in the business of protecting one of our community's most valuable resources—clean water. Founded in 1959 by a group of anglers who wanted to protect trout habitat, Trout Unlimited has grown into a national conservation organization with more than 300,000 members and over 300 staff working across the country. Their mission is simple but impactful: bring people together to conserve, protect, and restore the cold-water fisheries and watersheds that future generations will depend on. In North Idaho, that mission is especially important. Although the five northern counties make up only a small portion of Idaho's landmass, they contain more than one-third of the state's surface water. From Lake Pend Oreille and the Kootenai River to the St. Joe and Moyie Rivers, our region is home to some of Idaho's most treasured waterways and fisheries. But protecting those resources isn't just about fish. As Cathy explained, water quality impacts all of us. The same healthy rivers and streams that support trout also provide recreation opportunities, drinking water, wildlife habitat, and economic benefits for our communities. As weather patterns shift and water becomes an increasingly valuable resource, conservation efforts today will have lasting impacts tomorrow. The organization's work spans everything from restoring streams and wetlands to removing barriers that prevent fish from migrating naturally. They partner with landowners, tribes, government agencies, businesses, and volunteers to improve habitat and strengthen watersheds across the region. One thing that stood out during the conversation was Trout Unlimited's commitment to collaboration. Whether they're working with private landowners to restore wetlands, helping improve fish passage at stream crossings, or participating in large-scale conservation agreements involving multiple states, tribes, and agencies, the organization believes lasting solutions happen when diverse groups come together around a shared goal. That philosophy should sound familiar. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we often talk about the importance of collaboration in addressing community challenges. The same principle applies whether we're talking about affordable housing, transportation, workforce development, or environmental stewardship: the best solutions are rarely created in isolation. The conversation also highlighted a reality many North Idaho residents have noticed firsthand—our region is changing. Population growth, increased development, and changing weather patterns all create new pressures on our natural resources. At the same time, those challenges create opportunities to do things better, whether that's designing infrastructure that supports fish passage, educating homeowners about shoreline stewardship, or helping the next generation understand the value of healthy ecosystems. Perhaps the most encouraging takeaway was the reminder that conservation isn't reserved for scientists or avid anglers. It's something everyone can participate in. Whether it's planting native vegetation along a shoreline, supporting local restoration projects, teaching children about the outdoors, volunteering for a cleanup effort, or simply learning more about the waterways that surround us, each of us has a role to play in protecting the places we love. Because in the end, clean water isn't just a fisheries issue. It's a community issue. And ensuring that future generations can enjoy the rivers, lakes, and landscapes that define North Idaho is something worth working toward together. To learn more about Trout Unlimited's work in North Idaho, volunteer opportunities, or upcoming projects, visit northidahotu.org or tu.org . 

The Power of Showing Up: What Volunteerism Looks Like in Action What does a volunteer look like? For some, it's someone serving meals, mentoring youth, or helping at community events. For others, it's someone quietly making connections behind the scenes, bringing people together, and helping good ideas become reality. If you've spent any time volunteering in Bonner County, chances are you've crossed paths with Michele Murphree. Recently recognized as Volunteer of the Month by the Sandpoint Chamber of Commerce, Michele has spent the last 25 years investing her time, energy, and heart into the community she now calls home. Yet if you ask her about her accomplishments, she'll likely redirect the conversation to the organizations, volunteers, and community members who make the work possible. Originally from Southern California, Michele and her husband made the leap to North Idaho after falling in love with the area's natural beauty and strong sense of community. What started as a desire to get involved quickly evolved into decades of service supporting everything from environmental conservation and school gardens to veterans, youth programs, food security initiatives, and community improvement projects. One of the first lessons she learned was that meaningful volunteerism often begins with a simple question: "How can I help?" That mindset eventually led Michele to help launch school garden programs, support Food for Our Children, partner with Habitat for Humanity, coordinate veteran wood-cutting projects, and organize large-scale volunteer initiatives throughout Sandpoint. Along the way, she discovered something important: many people want to help, but they don't always know where to start. That's where Michele has found her niche. Rather than focusing on a single organization, she often serves as a bridge between nonprofits and community members who want to get involved. She understands that nonprofits are often stretched thin, and that volunteers need meaningful opportunities where they can make a difference. Her gift is bringing those two groups together. Perhaps nowhere is that more evident than through Serve Sandpoint, a community-wide volunteer initiative that connects hundreds of volunteers with local projects ranging from food banks and animal shelters to senior services, youth organizations, and housing programs. What began as a request to find service opportunities for a church group has grown into a community effort involving dozens of projects and hundreds of volunteers. For Michele, the work isn't just about completing tasks. It's about connection. One of her favorite emerging ideas is the concept of the "long table"—bringing people together after a day of service to share a meal, tell stories, and build relationships. Because while volunteer projects can improve buildings, gardens, or community spaces, it's often the conversations that happen afterward that leave the greatest impact. That theme surfaced throughout the conversation. Whether discussing school gardens, teen programs, Habitat for Humanity neighborhoods, or veteran support efforts, Michele repeatedly returned to the same idea: people want to belong. They want to contribute. They want to know they are part of something larger than themselves. And that's exactly what volunteerism provides. It helps people discover the needs that exist right in their own backyard. It creates opportunities to build relationships across generations and backgrounds. It reminds us that community isn't something we inherit—it's something we actively create together. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we see that truth every day. The strongest communities aren't built by a handful of organizations working alone. They're built by neighbors showing up for one another, lending a hand, sharing their talents, and investing in the places they call home. Michele Murphy is a wonderful example of what that looks like in practice. Not because she has all the answers. But because she keeps asking one simple question: "How can I help?" And then she does. "I think people really want to be a part of something and want to contribute—they just don't always know how." Community Connection Interested in volunteering? Michele encourages community members to explore local opportunities through organizations like Habitat for Humanity, the Food Bank, Bonner Homeless Transitions, the Senior Center, the Animal Shelter, and the annual Serve Sandpoint initiative. Every act of service—big or small—helps strengthen our community. I think this one may actually be my favorite so far because it captures something that is central to both Michele's story and CREC's mission: community happens when ordinary people decide to get involved. 

More Than a House: How Habitat for Humanity is Building Stability in North Idaho What happens when a family no longer has to wonder where they'll live next year? For many of us, home is something we take for granted. It's the place where children do their homework, families gather around the dinner table, and neighbors become friends. But for families struggling to find affordable housing, home can feel just out of reach. On a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , Lindsay Morgan sat down with Robin Rawlings, Executive Director of Idaho Panhandle Habitat for Humanity , to discuss how the organization is helping local families build more than houses—they're building stability, self-reliance, and opportunity. Habitat for Humanity is often misunderstood as an organization that gives away homes. Robin was quick to dispel that myth. "It's not a handout, it's a hand up," she explained. Families go through an extensive application process, must demonstrate the ability to repay a mortgage, complete financial education courses, and contribute hundreds of volunteer hours before ever receiving the keys to a home. The goal isn't simply homeownership. The goal is creating lasting stability. Through Habitat's program, families learn budgeting skills, home maintenance, financial planning, and the responsibilities that come with owning a home. They invest sweat equity into the process and become active participants in building their future. That stability has ripple effects far beyond a mortgage payment. As Lindsay noted during the conversation, when one of our most basic human needs is uncertain, everything else becomes more difficult. Housing insecurity impacts health, education, food security, employment, and overall well-being. Robin shared that children who grow up in stable housing often have greater opportunities to succeed because they aren't carrying the constant stress and uncertainty that comes with unstable living situations. This year marks a significant milestone for the organization: 30 years of service in the Idaho Panhandle. Since its founding, Habitat has completed 26 homes throughout the region and is currently preparing to build two additional homes in Sandpoint. For an organization that historically completed one home every few years, it's a sign of renewed momentum and growth. Robin describes the organization as entering a "new season"—one focused on growth, stronger community partnerships, and expanding impact throughout Bonner and Boundary Counties. That growth extends beyond new home construction. Last year, Habitat launched a Veteran Repair Program that provides critical home repairs for local veterans. Partnering with Home Depot, the program helps veterans address safety concerns and maintenance issues that may otherwise go unresolved. More importantly, it does so with dignity and gratitude for their service. The organization is also finding creative ways to strengthen community connections. This summer, Habitat is partnering with Cedar Hills Church to host a neighborhood cleanup and community meal, bringing residents together to improve their surroundings and build relationships with one another. At its core, Habitat for Humanity is about more than construction. It's about creating a foundation upon which families can build their lives. A stable home creates space for children to learn, parents to plan for the future, and families to invest in their communities. It turns uncertainty into opportunity and housing into hope. And in a region where affordable housing continues to be one of the greatest challenges facing working families, that work matters more than ever. To learn more about Idaho Panhandle Habitat for Humanity, volunteer opportunities, or the Veteran Repair Program, visit panhandlehabitat.org .

A Bird’s Eye View of Community At the Community Resource EnVision Center , our work is rooted in connection—but in practice, it looks like something more layered: listening closely, linking people to resources, and watching how a community becomes stronger when it is intentionally brought together. That idea came through clearly in a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , featuring CREC Executive Director Katie Begalke during our 100th episode conversation. What emerged was not just a podcast milestone, but a reflection on how community systems actually function—and what it takes to hold them together. Because at its core, this work is about access, dignity, and ensuring people do not have to navigate life’s hardest moments alone. “We are a navigation system for people in crisis or in need and who are navigating life’s difficult moments.” Connection as the starting point CREC’s mission is to “empower the community through connection, service, and support.” While broad in language, it becomes very tangible in practice—especially for individuals reaching out for help for the first time. Many are navigating housing instability, transportation barriers, caregiving needs, or simply the uncertainty of where to begin. And that first step is often the hardest. As Katie shared: “We’re building this beautiful community puzzle, and pieces are just being dumped in our laps every day. Some pieces fit quickly. Others take time. But over time, patterns emerge and so does clarity." Why relationships matter As demand for services grows, so does the complexity of need. CREC has seen a significant rise in first-time clients—people who are often hesitant or overwhelmed when seeking help for the first time. In that space, connection becomes more than referral—it becomes trust-building. Because most people want to help, they just don’t always know where. “Most people want to help and they don’t know where they can help.” This is where CREC plays a unique role: not only connecting people to services, but connecting people to each other across nonprofits, businesses, and community systems working toward shared outcomes. “We see how one does affect the other. We’re all trying to make the community stronger and provide services.” A vision for shared space Much of the conversation also focused on what could be possible if community services were more intentionally co-located—reducing barriers and creating more seamless access to care. What if support didn’t require multiple stops across town? What if dignity was built into the experience of seeking help? Katie described that vision simply: “What would it look like if someone experiencing one of the hardest moments of their life didn't have to drive all over town searching for help? What if they could come to one place, have their needs met, and experience the dignity and support of an entire community?" While still evolving, pieces of this model already exist within CREC’s shared space, where more than 35 partners operate under one roof. The role of curiosity At the center of it all is relationship-building—not as a supporting function, but as the foundation of the work itself. Katie reflected on the idea that she doesn’t feel the pressure to actually have to have all the answers, but finds it more important to be brave enough to keep asking the questions, and inviting the right people to the table. That curiosity—staying open, listening closely, and following where connection leads—is what allows the work to grow beyond any single plan. Closing As A Little Birdie Told Me reaches its 100th episode, it continues to serve as more than a podcast. It is a reflection of the community it represents—one that is still evolving, still asking questions, and still building systems that make support more accessible. Because at the end of the day, this work is not about having everything figured out. It is about building something strong enough to hold people while the answers are still forming.

Beyond the Sale: Inside the Selkirk Association of REALTORS® Real estate in North Idaho is often viewed through listings, prices, and market trends—but behind every transaction is a network of professionals supporting buyers, sellers, and the broader community. Recently, Stephanie Rief, Dyno Wahl, and Fabiola Ferris, leaders from the Selkirk Association of REALTORS® shared insight into their work during our podcast in our studio, the local housing market, and the impact of their organization well beyond real estate. A Professional Network with Community Roots The Selkirk Association of REALTORS® is a member-based organization supporting real estate professionals through education, standards, and industry resources, including oversight of the Multiple Listing Service (MLS). Members include realtors, brokerages, and affiliate partners such as lenders, inspectors, and title companies—creating a connected system that helps transactions move more efficiently. Stephanie Rief, Executive Director of the Association explained, the MLS used to be books realtors used to physically carry around town. Now it’s all at their fingertips. A Shifting North Idaho Market North Idaho continues to see steady demand, shaped by both in-state movement and relocation from other states. The Association representatives noted that a significant share of buyers come from within Idaho (about 70%), while many others are arriving from out of state. Affordability remains a challenge for first-time buyers, even as conditions have shifted away from the peak pandemic market. “The market isn’t as intense as it was—it’s more of a conversation now between buyers and sellers,” Dyno Wahl, this year’s association president shared. Homes that are well-priced and well-prepared continue to move quickly, while overpriced or outdated homes tend to sit longer. Interest rates continue to play a major role in pacing and buyer confidence. What Buyers and Sellers Need to Know Preparation is critical on both sides of a transaction. Fabiola Ferris, realtor and Association President Elect emphasized that buyers who are pre-qualified makes all the difference. Without that, buyers riskShe also working outside their budget creates frustration for everyone involved. On the seller side, pricing strategy is just as important. Well-priced homes often attract immediate attention, while overpricing can extend time on market even in active conditions. The Work Behind the Commission The conversation also highlighted common misconceptions about realtors and their work. “There’s a misconception that realtors just make money hand over fit on every deal,” Rief said. “…but what they don’t understand is when a deal doesn’t close, they don’t get paid. They are taking a risk as well.” Agents often invest significantly upfront in marketing, photography, and listing preparation—without guaranteed return. Many also operate as independent contractors, managing unpredictable schedules and long client timelines. “We’re self-employed just like small business owners,” Wahl added. Realtors don’t get a regular paycheck, and invest in building everything from the ground up. And while the flexibility can be a benefit, it often comes with after-hours work, urgent negotiations, and constant availability. The group joked about the reality of the profession, noting that the day-to-day work is far more likely to involve hiking boots or Birkenstocks than stilettos, despite outside perceptions. More Than Real Estate: Community Impact Beyond transactions, the Association plays an active role in community support through grants, volunteer work, and fundraising. Funds raised through events like the annual golf tournament are reinvested into local nonprofits, emergency services, youth programs, and community infrastructure projects across North Idaho. The team spoke about what makes the Sandpoint area so special and livable, pointing to the many nonprofits, events, and community efforts that shape life in the region. “We live in this community, and we love this community and we are selling that it’s a great community. We want to put our money where our mouth is.” Wahl explained. Members also participate in community events, financial literacy programs for students, and local service initiatives that extend far beyond real estate. Ambassadors for North Idaho A recurring theme in the conversation was the role realtors play as community ambassadors and trusted advisors. The Association shared that it’s not just about selling a home—it’s about helping people understand where they’re choosing to live. Sometimes that means helping clients realize a community is the right fit. Other times, it means helping them recognize when it isn’t. Fabiola Ferris added, “Selling where you’re going to live is as important as selling the home.” That level of honesty, they noted, is central to building long-term trust with clients and strengthening the region as a whole. Looking Ahead As the Association continues its work, its focus remains on professionalism, community engagement, and supporting both members and the region they serve. While the market continues to evolve, their role remains steady: helping people navigate one of life’s biggest financial decisions with clarity, care, and integrity.

The Connections That Make a Community Communities are often measured by their population, their economy, or the projects taking shape around them. But the true strength of a community is harder to measure. It's found in the relationships between neighbors. The partnerships between organizations. The conversations that bring people together. And the shared belief that when challenges arise, no one should have to face them alone. Looking back on May, one theme emerged again and again across Bonner County: connection. We saw it through Live Give 7B , where hundreds of donors, businesses, volunteers, and nonprofit organizations came together to raise more than $318,000 for local causes. While the dollars will support important work throughout the year, the greatest impact may be the reminder that generosity is strongest when a community acts together. We saw it in conversations about wildfire preparedness . Long before the first evacuation notice is issued or the first emergency shelter opens, communities begin building resilience through planning, partnerships, and preparation. The ability to respond during a crisis is often determined by the connections that exist before one occurs. We saw it in the growing conversation around community spaces. From the library expansion and the Cedar Street Bridge to the Aquatic Center, Historical Society, CTE Center, and Community Hub, these projects share a common purpose. At their best, they create opportunities for people to gather, learn, collaborate, and belong. They become places where connection happens. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we see this every day. Behind every successful referral, every housing placement, every job connection, and every solved problem is a network of people and organizations working together to help someone move forward. Progress rarely happens in isolation. Neither does community. As Bonner County continues to grow, the opportunity before us is not simply to build more programs, services, or buildings. It is to strengthen the connections between them. Because the strongest communities aren't defined by any one organization, project, or initiative. They are defined by how well those pieces work together. And that may be the most important investment we can make in our future.

For children experiencing abuse or neglect, one caring adult can change everything. That’s the mission behind North Idaho CASA, an organization that trains volunteer advocates to stand beside children navigating some of the hardest moments of their lives. CASA advocates provide stability, support, and hope for children caught in the foster care and child welfare systems. Director of Development for North Idaho CASA, Kristin Linville Ludwig, emphasizes that when it comes to serving underprivileged children, community awareness and community action matter now more than ever. What Is CASA? CASA stands for Court Appointed Special Advocates . These volunteers are appointed by judges to represent the best interests of children involved in abuse and neglect cases. When children are removed from their homes and enter the court system, CASA advocates become a consistent voice focused entirely on the child’s wellbeing. Parents often have attorneys. Agencies have caseworkers. CASA exists to make sure the child has someone advocating specifically for them. And unlike many professionals involved in the system, CASA advocates are volunteers. That distinction matters deeply. For many children, especially teenagers, trust is hard-earned. CASA volunteers often become one of the few dependable adults in a child’s life, someone who consistently shows up simply because they care. “A lot of our teens really love the relationship they have with their advocates because they’re showing up,” she says. “They’re volunteering to show up. They’re not a caseworker. They’re not showing up just because they have to.” That consistency can be life-changing. Many of the children CASA serves have experienced instability, trauma, addiction within the home, or generations of neglect. Some have never experienced a healthy adult relationship modeled for them. Advocates help change that. Some volunteers focus heavily on investigation and court advocacy. Others naturally become mentors, encouragers, or “grandparent figures” for children who desperately need emotional support. CASA intentionally tries to match volunteers with cases where their personality and strengths fit the needs of the child. And when a relationship forms, it often lasts years. One of the biggest misconceptions about CASA is that advocates need a professional background in law, counseling, or social work. Kristin says they don’t. “There is no specific perfect advocate,” she explains. “Our advocates are ordinary people that do extraordinary things.” CASA volunteers come from all walks of life: retirees, younger professionals, teachers, foster parents, and community members who simply want to help. Some stay involved for a few years. Others become what CASA affectionately calls “lifers.” Several advocates in North Idaho have volunteered for more than 25 years. The work can be emotionally heavy, but CASA creates strong support systems among volunteers because many cases involve difficult realities that advocates cannot publicly discuss. “These kids and these cases affect you,” Kristin explains. “You definitely have the support.” Why Reporting Matters One of CASA’s newest initiatives is an “Educate to Advocate” campaign focused on helping community members recognize and report possible abuse or neglect. Many abuse investigations reveal a troubling pattern: people suspected something was wrong, but nobody spoke up. Sometimes neighbors noticed concerning behavior. Sometimes family members had a bad feeling. Sometimes teachers or community members saw warning signs but hesitated because they didn’t want to interfere. That hesitation can have devastating consequences. “We always encourage people to call on even the slightest suspicion,” Kristin says. “If everything’s fine, then everything’s fine. There’s no harm.” The organization emphasizes that reporting suspected abuse does not automatically mean children will be removed from a home. Instead, reports allow law enforcement and child welfare professionals to identify patterns, investigate concerns, and ensure children are safe. “The more reporting that happens on the same kid or the same family or the same address,” Kristin explains, “law enforcement’s going to have that flagged, and they’re going to have eyes on that family.” Kristin also acknowledges that child neglect can be more complicated than many people realize. Clear physical abuse is easier for most people to identify. Neglect, however, often exists in gray areas shaped by poverty, family instability, mental health, or addiction. A child wearing dirty clothes or arriving late to school repeatedly may not necessarily be neglected. There may be transportation struggles, financial hardship, or other circumstances outsiders don’t fully understand. That’s why CASA encourages people not to investigate situations themselves or make assumptions. Instead, they urge people to trust their instincts and allow trained professionals to assess concerns appropriately. “It’s not for us to decide,” Kristin says. “It’s for law enforcement to get it on the record, to investigate, and then to have eyes on those kids.” One of the most powerful parts of the conversation centered around generational trauma. Many abuse and neglect cases are not isolated situations. Often, parents experienced similar trauma growing up, creating cycles that repeat across generations. But CASA believes those cycles can be interrupted. With proper support, advocacy, counseling, and stable adult relationships, children can recognize unhealthy patterns and build different futures for themselves. “These kids have a chance to really recognize their trauma, to change their patterns, and to stop that cycle of abuse,” Kristin says. For volunteers, being part of that transformation can be incredibly rewarding. “Knowing what that child has come from and where they can end up, where their whole life trajectory has changed by the involvement of one person, wouldn’t it just be awesome if you were that person?” asks Kristin. How the Community Can Help Not everyone has the capacity to become a CASA advocate, and Kristin understands that. But there are many ways to support the mission. The organization hosts multiple fundraisers throughout the year, including: A fall gala and auction event A long-running “Purses for a Purpose” fundraiser Golf tournaments Community awareness campaigns Volunteers also help with event planning, outreach, donor engagement, and public education efforts. At its core, CASA’s message is simple: protecting children is everyone’s responsibility. “Kids are our future,” Kristin says. And for children navigating trauma, abuse, and instability, the presence of one trusted adult can alter the course of an entire life. Whether through volunteering, donating, attending an event, or simply speaking up when something feels wrong, CASA believes every community member has a role to play. Sometimes, changing a child’s future starts with something as simple and as difficult as trusting your gut.

When Gabe Custodio first set out on his career path, he envisioned working with athletes as a sports psychologist. But life, and one pivotal internship, had other plans. Today, he is helping lead one of Idaho’s most innovative mental health initiatives, a community-driven clubhouse model that is changing how people experience recovery. Gabe’s early academic focus was sports psychology, with ambitions of supporting athletes. That trajectory shifted during graduate school, when he interned with underserved youth facing significant mental health challenges. “That experience opened up a new path for me,” Gabe says. One experience completely shifted Gabe’s mindset and his ideas for what his career should look like. Eventually, Gabe and his wife made a major life change. They left the fast-paced San Francisco Bay Area for North Idaho in search of a slower, more family-centered lifestyle. Without a job lined up, they took a leap, and it paid off. Gabe found himself once again supporting young adults with mental health issues, specifically those transitioning back into school, employment, and stability. A First-of-Its-Kind Program in Idaho Today, Gabe serves as Program Director of Sand Creek Connections , a program under NAMI Far North , which is part of the National Alliance on Mental Illness. Sand Creek Connections operates using the internationally recognized clubhouse model and is the first of its kind in Idaho. This model dates back to the 1950s and is built on a simple but powerful belief: recovery is possible, and it happens through community. Traditional mental health care often centers around clinical appointments. A therapist visit here, a medication check there. But what about the time in between? “That’s where isolation can creep in,” Gabe explains. Sand Creek Connections exists to fill that gap. It is not a clinical program. There are no therapists or treatment sessions on site. Instead, it offers a structured, stigma-free environment where members can build purpose, routine, and connection. At the heart of the clubhouse model is something called the work-ordered day. From 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., Monday through Friday, members and staff work side by side to run the clubhouse. And run is meant literally. Members contribute to: Cooking and serving meals Cleaning and maintaining the space Managing finances Running social media Planning events Even interviewing potential staff “It’s meaningful work,” Gabe says. “Not busywork. The clubhouse depends on it.” That sense of ownership is key. Members are not passive participants. They are co-creators of the environment. Structure is a major component to this model and seemingly simple moments still have a big impact. Shared meals, for example, are a cornerstone of the day. For individuals who may feel isolated or disconnected, cooking for someone or being served by someone can be deeply meaningful. “It builds connection in a very real way,” Gabe says. Growth, Momentum, and Real Results Since opening in November 2024, Sand Creek Connections has seen rapid growth: 73 total members and growing. About 12 in attendance per day. A steadily increasing presence in the community. The space can get a little tight at times, but that reflects strong engagement. One of the biggest challenges is funding. Currently, 100% of the program’s funding comes from grants and private donations, thanks to the work of its board and grant writers. Government funding has been limited, which makes community support even more important. Research shows that supporting someone through a clubhouse program for an entire year can cost roughly the same as just one week in an emergency room setting. The clubhouse model is backed by decades of research. Some key outcomes include: Higher employment rates. Around 40% of clubhouse members return to work, compared to roughly 20% among those with mental health challenges. Reduced recidivism. Participants are less likely to re-enter the criminal justice system. Improved long-term stability and independence. “We’re already seeing those results in our own community,” Gabe notes. Breaking Down Misconceptions Despite its success, misconceptions still exist. Some people worry about safety or assume members are difficult to engage with. The clubhouse is not a crisis center. Instead, it serves individuals who are stable but still need support, structure, and direction. “Our members are talented, capable, and resilient,” Gabe says. “You often cannot tell who is staff and who is a member, and that is by design.” While financial contributions are always needed, community involvement is just as valuable. There are many ways to support Sand Creek Connections: Volunteer your time Lead a workshop or class Provide a meal Join an advisory board Stop by for a tour Local artists, therapists, and businesses have already contributed in creative ways, from teaching college workshops to offering wellness sessions. “We want our members to feel seen not just inside the clubhouse, but in the broader community,” Gabe says. Sand Creek Connections is a trailblazing organization we are lucky to have in our community. 

Originally from Florida, Virginia always felt pulled toward something. She just didn’t know what that something was. This desire led her to make a move to New Hampshire in her late twenties, a decision that would shape everything that followed. For the first time, she was fully on her own. Instead of living by others’ expectations, she focused on a bigger question: what does Virginia want? “It was one of the best things I did for myself,” she says. “And also the scariest.” While living in New Hampshire, Virginia met her future husband in an unexpected way, on Instagram. Her marriage brought her here. Virginia had dreamed of living by mountains since childhood, North Idaho immediately felt like home. But with her dream location came new challenges. Marriage, step-parenting, and building a life with someone else pushed her to confront parts of herself she had not fully explored. “My relationship became a mirror,” she says. “It showed me the things I was avoiding.” With a new marriage she was learning to navigate, Virginia dove deeper into personal development. She explored inner child healing, listened to podcasts, and began working with life coaches. Through hiring a life coach, she not only processed her past, she gained clarity on how to move forward. Eventually, that experience inspired her to become a life coach herself. Today, she helps women navigate relationships, identity, and personal growth, guiding them back to themselves while building a path forward. What Is Life Coaching, Really? Life coaching can feel vague to many people, and Virginia acknowledges that it is a broad field. “It’s kind of the Wild West,” she jokes. At its core, coaching is about forward momentum. While therapy often focuses on understanding the past, coaching emphasizes building the future. It focuses on creating actionable plans and aligning your life with what you truly want. Virginia sees coaching as a complement to therapy, not a replacement. “It’s like a next step,” she explains. “You’ve done some healing, and now you’re ready to build.” You Don’t Need All the Answers A common misconception about coaching is that you need to have a clear goal before you start. Virginia says that’s not true. In fact, some of the most powerful transformations begin with uncertainty. “I don’t know what I want, but I know this isn’t it. That’s enough,” she says. That space of not knowing can become an opportunity to create something entirely new. So how does someone know if coaching is right for them? Virginia points to one simple starting point: curiosity. “It really begins with genuine curiosity,” she explains, “and being in a season of life where you are open to trying something new.” Many coaches offer free consultations, giving people a chance to explore what they want and whether the fit feels right. And fit matters. “It’s about finding someone you connect with,” she adds. “Someone you feel comfortable opening up to.” Building “Talking Blondes” After becoming a life coach, the idea of starting a podcast struck Virginia. But the vision didn’t become clear until she found her perfect partner in her now bestie, Caitlin. Though they were friends beforehand, interestingly, Caitlin was one of her first coaching clients. Their conversations were so engaging and natural that starting a podcast felt like the obvious next step. After about a year of planning, Talking Blondes launched. The show blends mental health, personal growth, and everyday life with a tone that feels like two friends talking over coffee. Some episodes tackle heavier topics like narcissistic relationships, while others explore lighter themes like pop culture. Episodes are long-form, often one to two hours, designed for listeners who want to really sit with a conversation. “It’s like being at a table with us,” Virginia says. The podcast releases every other week, with each host taking turns leading discussions and bringing their own perspective. What started as a creative project is now becoming something bigger. Virginia and Caitlin are building a community, both through their listeners and by planning to feature guests, including women entrepreneurs and voices from their local networks. Even without heavy promotion, the podcast has gained steady traction, with hundreds of streams and a growing audience. But what matters most is not the numbers. It is the impact. “When someone messages us and says an episode meant something to them,” Virginia says, “that’s everything.” Virginia’s story is a reminder that growth takes time, and it does not happen by accident. Whether through coaching, self-reflection, or simply being open to change, the path forward often begins with a simple question:  What do I actually want, and am I ready to go after it? Find the Talking Blondes on Social Media: Talking Blondes Instagram: talkingblondespod T alking Blondes YouTube: Talking Blondes Podcast Virginia Herb Coaching: www.virginiaherbcoaching.com

When many people think of a library, they picture shelves of books and quiet reading spaces. But today’s libraries are something much more dynamic. They are hubs of education, creativity, and human connection. In a recent conversation with East Bonner County Library Director Vanessa Velez and Lifelong Learning Coordinator Frank Foderaro, one thing became clear: “We try to provide something for everyone,” Vanessa says. With a major expansion on the horizon, the library is preparing to do even more. Lifelong Learning for Everyone A heavily utilized but still somewhat unknown resource at the library is the Lifelong Learning Center. The center helps proctor exams and offers tutoring to adults as well as children. Learning opportunities include one-on-one tutoring, technology help, GED and citizenship support, English as a Second Language instruction, and even niche topics. “We’ve had authors come in asking how to promote themselves,” Frank says. “We’ve had people ask for social media help. We try to meet those needs.” The program relies on a diverse group of volunteer tutors. These volunteers range from engineers to retired teachers to healthcare professionals to high school computer geeks. And when a request falls outside the usual scope, the library adapts. When a request comes to the learning center that the center isn’t able to serve, a call goes out to the roster of tutors asking if any of them can meet the need. Most of the time, one of the tutors has the skills needed to support the niche educational request. The program is built around individual needs. “We ask what their learning goals are,” Frank says. “Then we try to match that up with the right tutor.” That matching process goes beyond subject matter. It’s not just about matching the math expert with the student struggling with math. Personalities must fit and Frank puts a lot of effort into matching not just skill set but mindset. “Some tutors are very calm and patient. Some are more energetic,” Frank explains. “I try to match that with what the learner needs.” The goal of the learning center is not to create a lifelong crutch. Vanessa emphasizes that the goal is progress, not permanence. “We don’t want to make the Lifelong Learning Center someone’s permanent tutor,” she says. “We want them to reach their goal and then make room for someone else.” The program depends heavily on volunteers, and that is part of what makes it unique. There are over 100 volunteers at the library; 37 of those are on the tutor roster. They get vetted. They get trained. The center is designed to be flexible. Zoom tutoring for those who are physically unable to come into the library. The program has attracted many participants, so many that now it is time for the library to expand in order to meet the demand. A Major Expansion To address the growing need, the library is launching a 4,500-square-foot, two-story expansion. “It’s really a continuation of our previous expansion,” Vanessa explains. “This is phase two.” The project will include more tutoring rooms, a larger meeting space, additional study areas, and a multimedia room. For the learning center, the impact will be immediate. The number of rooms they will have to utilize doubles. The expansion will also include a small café. The expansion is funded through saved donations and county sales tax revenue. “We can’t use levy money for new construction,” Vanessa explains. “So this is coming from other sources we’ve built up over time.” Construction could begin as early as this summer, though timelines may shift. The library plans to remain open, though there will be some temporary inconveniences. Expect some noise, fewer parking spaces, and fewer community meeting rooms while some staff offices are temporarily relocated. Patience and understanding are appreciated during this transition. The Next Chapter As the library expands, so does its role in the community. From tutoring and digital learning to hands-on programs and shared spaces, it continues to grow into something much larger than a traditional library. With new spaces, new opportunities, and continued community support, the next chapter is already taking shape. Follow the library on social media for updates on the expansion process.

Berit Ollestad is working to bring a Tunnel to Towers event to the region, an effort shaped by years of personal experience, a growing desire to create something meaningful for her community, and a life-changing experience with Tunnel to Towers. By day, Berit runs a cleaning business, but much of her energy has shifted toward community involvement and honoring first responders and veterans. That sense of purpose was shaped in part by her experiences surrounding September 11th. At the time she was traveling in Italy and later spent time in New York and New Jersey during the recovery period. While living on the East Coast, she also worked in local journalism, covering police, fire departments, and civic life during a time when public service and community response were especially visible in daily life. The local response to the tragedy touched Berit, but she didn’t know how much the experience would come to mean to her. Her connection to Tunnel to Towers came years later when she participated in one of the organization’s signature events in New York, which includes a 5K run through the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel and a stair climb at One World Trade Center. “I remember standing there with thousands of people and realizing this was not just a race. It was something completely different. Everybody was there for a reason and you could feel it,” she says. “I just felt like I needed to do something more with this.” That experience stayed with her for a long time. While training locally in Sandpoint at War Memorial Stadium, she spent early mornings running stadium stairs in preparation for another climb event. What began as training gradually became something more reflective. “I would be out there early in the morning with the sun coming up over the stadium and I kept thinking how beautiful it was,” she says. “Then it hit me that this needs to be shared. This could be something meaningful here.” From that moment, the idea began to take shape: bringing a Tunnel to Towers-style 5K and climb event to Sandpoint on July 4th. The proposed route would cross the Long Bridge, move through town, and finish at Memorial Field. For Ollestad, the bridge quickly became central to the vision. “The bridge is really what makes it special,” she says. “When you run across it you are looking at the water and the mountains. It just feels like home. That became the hook for me.” The event is still in early planning stages, but its mission is rooted in supporting veterans, first responders, and their families. Tunnel to Towers is widely known for paying off mortgages for families of fallen first responders, building smart homes for catastrophically injured veterans, and providing long-term support for families left behind. Berit also points to the foundation’s broader efforts supporting homeless veterans through housing programs, case management, and wraparound services aimed at long-term stability. “They try to take care of the whole veteran,” she says. “It is not just housing, it is everything around it, making sure people actually have a chance to rebuild their lives.” As planning continues, Ollestad says the focus is now on building community participation. Volunteers, sponsors, and local partners will all play an important role, but she emphasizes that showing up is what matters most. “I think people underestimate how much just showing up matters,” she says. “Whether you are running, walking, volunteering, or cheering on the bridge, it all matters.” She is also hoping for a strong turnout on race day, while acknowledging the ambition of the goal. “I would love to see a thousand people out there,” she says. “I know that is a big number, but I also do not think it is impossible. This community shows up when it matters.” More than anything, she hopes the event captures the emotional meaning she experienced in New York, where participants were running and climbing in honor of loved ones lost. “Everyone was climbing for someone,” she says. “People had pictures on their shirts, names written on their hands. You get to the top and it is quiet for a moment and you realize everybody in that room is carrying a story.” As she continues preparing for another climb in New York while organizing the Sandpoint event, Ollestad says the experience has deepened her sense of purpose. “I am really grateful I get to do it again,” she says. Her hope is that the Sandpoint Tunnel to Towers becomes more than a race by creating a shared moment of remembrance, service, and community connection.

What Support Really Looks Like When people think about helping a neighbor in need, they often picture a simple solution. A referral. A resource. A phone number. A helping hand. And sometimes, that's enough. But more often, the challenges people face are far more complicated than they appear on the surface. A housing issue may also involve missing identification, transportation barriers, healthcare needs, childcare challenges, or lost income. A job search may uncover literacy obstacles, documentation problems, or a lack of access to training opportunities. What looks like a single problem is often a web of interconnected challenges that can be overwhelming to navigate alone. Throughout March, the Community Resource EnVision Center worked with more than 100 individuals and families, each with their own story and their own path forward. Some needed assistance securing housing. Others were pursuing education and employment opportunities. Some were working to regain independence after illness or injury. While their circumstances differed, one thing remained consistent: meaningful progress required more than a quick answer. It required someone willing to walk alongside them. This is the reality many community organizations face today. The work is no longer simply about connecting people to resources. It is about helping them navigate increasingly complex systems and ensuring they don't have to do it alone. That work happens through relationships. It happens through partnerships between organizations, businesses, volunteers, and community members who share a common goal. It happens because someone answers the phone, follows up after the appointment, helps complete the paperwork, makes the introduction, or stays engaged long enough to see a solution through. Most people will never see those moments. They won't see the hours spent coordinating services, the conversations happening behind the scenes, or the network of people working together to support a single individual or family. But that is often where the real work happens. Community isn't built through programs alone. It is built through people who care enough to invest their time, talents, and resources in one another. And when that support comes together, something powerful happens. Challenges become manageable. Barriers begin to fall. And hope becomes possible. That's what support really looks like.

Greg Jackson has called Sandpoint home for more than 30 years. A graduate of Sandpoint High School, he grew up as a competitive swimmer before transitioning into coaching, a role he has held for nearly two decades. As head coach for the past eight years, he has led his teams to multiple state championships. Reflecting on his work, Greg simply says, “I enjoy what I do,” a statement that captures both his humility and his commitment. Outside of coaching, Greg is a husband, father of three, and co-owner of a restoration business specializing in fire, flood, and mold recovery. From Spark to Movement The idea for a new aquatic center began with a push from local leaders Mike DiBenedetto and Joan Bloom. Greg explains, “Dr. DiBenedetto ordered a feasibility study, got that done, and then he put a bunch of us together. Ask who wants to be involved in this, and then put a board together.” That initial step turned an idea into action. With early planning, nonprofit formation, and community conversations underway, the project quickly gained momentum. Despite the success of the local swim program, the YMCA cannot meet the region’s needs. “Other teams refuse to come to our facility to compete because it’s so shallow,” Greg points out. The limitations extend beyond competition. The region is surrounded by water, yet lacks a safe and controlled environment for training. Greg explains, “Our sheriffs and our EMTs really have no way to train in any body of water that’s actually safe.” A feasibility study confirmed the gap. Within a 100-mile radius, the region is short at least four aquatic facilities. A Vision That Keeps Growing What started as a plan for a pool has grown into a much larger vision. Today, the concept includes aquatics, ice facilities, and a flexible community space. Greg describes the evolving mindset clearly. “There are opportunities, and until this thing’s actually built, we want to put whatever we can in it.” The plan now includes two pools, an indoor ice rink, an outdoor skating area, and a fieldhouse that could serve multiple purposes including sports, events, and even emergency shelter. At the same time, the team is thinking strategically about how to build it. “We are trying to plan this so that this can be done in chunks,” Greg says. Each component can be developed in phases, allowing progress even if funding comes in stages. Smart Design, Real Impact The aquatic center itself is being designed to serve a wide range of users. The plan includes two separate pools to meet different needs. “We have designed two separate pools,” Greg explains. “You have your zero-level entry, your walking area for rehab or elderly people, and then we have our large competition pool with spectator seating, diving wells, and deep water.” This approach ensures that families, seniors, athletes, and first responders all have access to appropriate spaces. There is also a financial strategy behind the design. “A pool doesn’t make money,” Greg says. “Ice does.” By pairing aquatics with an ice facility, the project creates a more sustainable model. Even the energy systems work together, with heat generated from ice operations helping to warm the pools. A project of this scale requires significant funding, and the team is realistic about the challenge. “We’re talking millions and millions of dollars,” Greg says. Their approach focuses on visibility and community support. “Our attack right now is publicity. Get the word out there. This is what we’re doing.” They are also pursuing grants and planning future fundraising efforts, including a golf tournament. At the same time, they are inviting everyday community members to get involved. “Definitely getting the word out,” Greg says. “If somebody wants to go hand out flyers, just drive around and put flyers in people’s offices, we would take that help today.” One of the most important aspects of the project is its community focus. Greg emphasizes that input is not only welcome but necessary. “If there is something that you think is needed in this facility, we want to know that,” he says. “We want to make sure that we can accommodate the community’s needs. That’s why we’re doing this.” This mindset ensures that the final result reflects the people it serves. From accessibility features to programming ideas, every voice helps shape the outcome. There is no fixed timeline yet, and Greg is honest about the uncertainty. “It is hard to tell,” he says. Still, the project is gaining traction through meetings, partnerships, and growing awareness. The long-term plan is to build the facility and ensure it is financially sustainable, then pass operations to an organization equipped to manage it. “Our goal is not to run a facility,” Greg explains. “We want to get it constructed and then hand it off to somebody else to run.” A Shared Vision for the Future At its core, this project is about more than buildings. It is about creating a space where people can gather, grow, and support one another. Greg sums it up best. “The big thing is the dream is for the community.” That vision continues to grow with every conversation, every idea, and every person who chooses to be part of it.

When people imagine senior living communities, many still picture the outdated image of a “nursing home.” For Jennifer Whitmyer, that stereotype couldn’t be further from the reality of modern senior living. As the Executive Director of Luther Park in Sandpoint, Jennifer is passionate about reshaping how people think about assisted living. With more than 15 years of experience in senior care, she has dedicated her career to creating communities that feel vibrant, welcoming, and most importantly, like home. “It’s not sterile. It’s not hospital-like. It’s a way of life,” Jennifer says.  A Career Rooted in Compassion Jennifer’s path into senior living was somewhat happenstance. She originally came from a law enforcement family and spent time working in corrections. This exposed her to some of society’s most difficult realities. That experience made her eventual transition into senior living even more meaningful. “When I got into the senior care field, I thought, ‘Holy cow, this is beautiful,’” she says. “You get to hear incredible life stories and spend time with people who have lived through so much.” Jennifer’s career change was sparked by a deeply personal experience: caring for her uncle after he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease in 2010. As his condition worsened, Jennifer’s family began searching for memory care facilities. After visiting nine different communities, they finally found a place where he could receive the care he needed. But Jennifer struggled with being away from him. At the time, she was preparing to work at a prison in Spokane. Instead, she walked into her uncle’s care community and asked for a job. “I told them I’d never done caregiving before,” Jennifer recalls. “But I had taken care of my uncle, and I wanted to try.” That decision changed the course of her life. “The writing was on the wall,” she says. “I fell in love with the work.” A Community Built on Relationships Today, Jennifer leads Luther Park, a nonprofit senior living community that emphasizes connection both within the residence and with the surrounding town. The organization has deep ties to First Lutheran Church, which helped bring the community into nonprofit ownership in 2008. The church remains closely connected to the residence, even sharing an indoor hallway that allows residents to attend services and activities without leaving the building. “It’s wonderful for our residents,” Jennifer says. “They can just stroll down the hallway to church.” Luther Park currently serves more than 90 residents and can accommodate up to 110. The community provides a wide range of assisted living services, allowing residents to remain in one place as their care needs change over time . Some residents require minimal assistance, such as housekeeping or occasional reminders. Others need more involved support, including medication management or mobility assistance. The goal is continuity of care, ensuring residents can remain in a familiar environment rather than moving between facilities. Jennifer believes that stability becomes especially important near the end of life. “If someone is on hospice and nearing the end, we want to be the place that cares for them,” she says. “We want them to pass in a home-like setting where they feel comfortable and loved.” Community involvement plays a vital role in making Luther Park feel vibrant and welcoming. Volunteers regularly visit to spend time with residents in many different ways. Some bring music, like a local pianist who performs twice a week. Schools sometimes visit to sing or interact with residents. Other volunteers simply come to sit and talk. Veterans from the community occasionally stop by to serve coffee in the mornings and chat with resident veterans. Many volunteers enjoy listening to life stories, doing puzzles, or sharing quiet conversations by the fire. “You don’t need a special skill,” Jennifer says. “Just spending time with someone can make a huge difference.” One-on-one visits are especially meaningful for residents who prefer quieter activities or don’t often attend larger group events. Changing the Conversation Around Senior Living One of Jennifer’s biggest goals is helping people understand how much senior living has evolved. For many families, outdated perceptions still shape their expectations. The term “nursing home” often brings up images of sterile environments and impersonal care. But today’s assisted living communities are designed to be lively, social, and comfortable. “We want it to feel like home,” Jennifer says. “People don’t heal in a hospital-like environment.” Modern senior communities focus on quality of life, creating spaces where residents can form friendships, participate in activities, and maintain their independence while receiving support. Jennifer even compares the atmosphere to something like a college campus for seniors: a place full of activity, conversation, and shared experiences. After more than a decade and a half in senior living, Jennifer says the most rewarding part of her work remains the same: the residents themselves. Every person who walks through the doors carries a lifetime of experiences and stories. “These generations are incredible,” she says. “We’re lucky to hear their stories.” For Jennifer, helping preserve those stories and creating a community where seniors feel valued is what makes the work worthwhile. Because at Luther Park, senior living isn’t about institutions or facilities. It’s about creating a place where people belong. A place that feels like home.

When Foundations School first opened its doors in Naples, Idaho, it didn’t look much like a school. It looked like half of a downstairs.  “We took over just the front half of the downstairs,” founder Charli Turner recalls. “And we had 18 kids in there. We outgrew it before the second semester.” Growth came quickly, not from a master expansion plan, but because the need kept showing up. They finished a back room. Charli’s husband gradually moved his shop out of the building they were using. The attic, once used to store supplies, was remodeled into classrooms. Later, they transformed a large open shop by adding a second floor, creating new classrooms. Today, the school sits on about ten acres. What used to be the parking lot is now a playground, and the parking has been pushed back toward the highway to make room for growth. “We have room to grow,” Charli says. Inside, one of the most popular spaces is called maker space. It is part workshop and part laboratory. Students take apart broken coffee makers and keyboards simply to see how they work. “They just deconstruct things and then try to put them back together,” Charli explains. “Usually they don’t go back together working, but they learn what all is there.” They have built giant catapults in teams and launched pumpkins across the property. “Oh my gosh, that was really fun,” Charli says. Hands-on projects like these are part of what draws students to Foundations School in the first place. Foundation School is a nonprofit, and tuition is set at $6,000 per year, well below the average private school cost in Idaho but accessibility is still a challenge. “It’s North Idaho,” Charli says. “We’re asking families to pay for education out of pocket. It’s already too much. Doesn’t matter what we’re charging.” Teachers are not paid what their workload might justify elsewhere. “They really do view this more as mission work,” Charli explains. If a lesson does not land, they rework it. If a student is struggling, they brainstorm new approaches. But like so many nonprofits, the program is amazing, the finances are not. At one point, Charli calculated what it would take to cover a year’s expenses. The number was the equivalent of selling 38,000 sausage dogs at the fair. “That’s kind of depressing,” Charli admits. Then she adds, “But I would sell 38,000 hot dogs if that’s what it takes.” They have hosted online auctions, calendar fundraisers, and a Great Gatsby themed gala. They are opening Nine Beans Idaho Mercantile Coffee next door in hopes of generating additional revenue. Questions about accreditation come up often. Foundations School meets Idaho state standards and issues diplomas, but it is not accredited. That choice is intentional. “Accreditation ties you to systems that are very one size fits all,” Charli says. Instead, teachers print the Idaho state standards and build curriculum directly around them. If students want to attend college, they leave with transcripts and diplomas, and universities have indicated they would accept them. The principal affectionately calls the student body a “mixed bag of nuts.” There is the athlete, the outspoken debater, the quiet student, the one with bright hair and piercings, and the one who prefers a pocket watch and suit jacket. In many larger schools, they might not interact. At Foundations School they do. High schoolers play tag with elementary students. Debate opponents still pray together at the beginning and end of the day. Each morning at 8:00, a bell rings from a bell tower the students built themselves. They gather at the flagpole, say the Pledge of Allegiance, observe a moment of silence, and say a pledge to God. They begin with a simple question. “How are you going to do better today than you did yesterday?” At the end of the day, they reverse it. “Who did you see doing good today? Who blessed you? Who worked hard?” Students name each other before the bell rings again. Not long ago, a visiting youth minister toured the campus. As he was leaving, he paused and said, “There’s an aroma of God here. You can smell it in the sweetness of what’s happening.” For Charli, that was the highest compliment they could receive. Foundations School is not polished. It is not wealthy. It is not finished growing. It is teachers stretching across multiple grade levels, students launching pumpkins across a field, and a leadership team learning fundraising in real time. It is “failing forward” and after three steady years of changing lives it’s here to stay.

Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream has been performed for centuries, but every generation finds new ways to interpret it. In an upcoming production directed by Tim Bangle for Lake Pend Oreille Repertory Theatre, the classic comedy is being reimagined with a modern setting, contemporary music, and creative staging that gives the familiar story a completely different atmosphere. Cast members Sydney Carlson, who plays Puck, and Angel Rogers, who plays Lysander, recently sat down with Tim and interviewer Connie Kiehn to talk about the production, the challenges of performing Shakespeare, and why this version of the play may surprise audiences. A Classic Story of Love, Mischief, and Chaos At its core, A Midsummer Night’s Dream is a story about love. The plot follows four young lovers whose romantic entanglements become chaotic when they wander into a magical forest. There, mischievous fairies and a group of amateur actors create confusion and comedy before everything is ultimately resolved and the lovers are united. Angel describes it as a messy love situation that quickly spirals into chaos. Tim explains, "Ultimately it’s a love story. The fairies kind of mess things up. They toil and tinker with the affairs of men and cause problems." The decision to produce A Midsummer Night’s Dream came at a time when the theatre organization needed a practical solution for its next show. Shakespeare’s works are in the public domain, meaning they do not require royalty payments. That made the play a financially sensible choice. At the same time, Tim had always wanted to direct a Shakespeare production as a creative challenge. His only previous experience performing Shakespeare was playing Theseus in high school, but he felt familiar enough with the play to take it on as a director. Setting the story in modern New York One of the biggest changes in this production is its setting. Instead of ancient Athens and an enchanted forest, the story takes place in modern-day New York City. Tim says the city provides an interesting backdrop because of its many different personalities and social layers. The fairy characters in this production take inspiration from street life in New York. Some appear as everyday city figures such as a hotel housekeeper or a person experiencing homelessness. Titania is portrayed as a news reporter, while Oberon becomes a Russian mobster. The human characters also reflect different social classes. The Athenians represent the upper class, while the mechanicals represent blue-collar workers trying to put on a play. Puck, one of the most important characters in the story, is portrayed as a mime clown who moves through the streets of the city while interacting with the audience and other characters. Music and creative staging This version of the play includes elements that go far beyond traditional Shakespeare staging. Before any of the original dialogue begins, the show opens with two musical numbers that help introduce the world of the story. A montage set to Guns N’ Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle” is used to establish the New York setting. The production also incorporates projections, choreography, and a ballet performance created with Cocolalla Conservatory . Even the transformation of the character Bottom is handled differently than usual. Instead of using the traditional donkey head prop, the production uses shadow effects and lighting to suggest the transformation. Because the story takes place in a nighttime city environment, shadows and silhouettes help create the illusion of what the other characters believe they are seeing. Casting the community For Sydney Carlson, being cast as Puck was a major surprise. Although she had been involved in theatre since she was young, most of her experience came from children’s theatre where everyone receives a role. Auditioning for competitive productions was still new for her. When she auditioned for this show, she intentionally avoided choosing a specific role so she would not get her hopes up. After callbacks, Tim called her late at night to offer her the part of Puck. Sydney initially thought he might be joking because of how important the role is in the play. "I had a really amazing time auditioning,” Sydney recalls. “I was scared out of my mind, and then they want me to come back to callbacks, which is great. I really was not expecting a role at all." For the director, however, the choice felt clear. Sometimes when casting a show, the excitement of the actor on the other end of the phone says everything. Tim remembers hearing Sydney's surprise and joy when she realized the role was really hers. Angel Rogers faced a different surprise when the casting announcement arrived. She expected she might be cast as one of the female lovers, but instead she was given the role of Lysander, a male character. At first the role caught her off guard, especially when explaining it to friends. When people asked which part she received, she would say she got one of the lovers but it happened to be a guy. Over time she has embraced the role and the challenges that come with it. Portraying Lysander requires adjusting body language and vocal delivery to create a convincing character on stage. Even something as simple as laughter can require adjustment. Rogers says she has been practicing lowering her natural laugh to better fit the character. "For a while I was pretty taken aback, but now it's super fun and I'm really glad that I got this role,” Angel says. Target audience Shakespeare’s plays often contain adult humor and innuendo that can be interpreted in many ways. Because several of the central performers are teenagers, the creative team chose not to emphasize those elements. The production focuses instead on storytelling, humor, and creative staging while keeping the content accessible for most audiences. The show may fall around a PG to PG-13 level, but it remains largely family-friendly. For Sydney, one of the biggest revelations from this production has been realizing how flexible Shakespeare’s stories can be. "I for sure love the way Shakespeare is being interpreted,” says Sydney. “It is so much more interesting. There’s so much creative freedom that I have learned through this show." Her earlier experiences with Shakespeare mostly involved reading the plays in school. Performing the work on stage has shown her how creative interpretation can transform the material. Show details The production opens April 3rd and runs for six performances.  Show dates are April 3rd and 4th, followed by April 9th through 12th. Tickets are twenty-five dollars and can be purchased at LPORep.com or Panida.Org . With its mix of Shakespeare’s original language and modern theatrical creativity, audiences may discover a completely new way to experience a familiar classic.

March 2026: The paces we blong Every community has places that help people feel at home. Sometimes those places are easy to recognize. A favorite coffee shop. A local event. A gathering place where familiar faces and conversations create a sense of connection. Other times, they are less obvious. They might be a classroom where a student discovers they are capable of more than they imagined. A local radio station that keeps neighbors informed and connected. A community organization that helps someone navigate a difficult chapter of life. Or a business owner who chooses to step forward when a neighbor needs help. Looking back on February, one theme surfaced again and again throughout Bonner County: belonging. We saw it in the story of a local resident whose urgent housing needs were met through the compassion and quick action of SkyRight Roofing & Gutters . What could have been viewed as simply a roofing project became a reminder that everyone deserves safety, dignity, and a community that cares. We saw it in the voices of students and alumni connected to Lake Pend Oreille Alternative High School . Their stories highlighted the importance of spaces where people feel seen, supported, and given the opportunity to succeed on their own path. We saw it in the work of KRFY , a volunteer-powered radio station that has spent years helping our community hear itself. Through local news, conversations, music, and storytelling, KRFY reminds us that belonging isn't just about having a place to live. It's about feeling connected to the people and stories around us. At its heart, community is about more than services, programs, or buildings. It's about creating places where people feel welcomed, valued, and connected to something larger than themselves. As Bonner County continues to grow and evolve, that sense of belonging becomes more important than ever. Because strong communities aren't defined by their size or resources. They're defined by whether people feel they have a place within them. And month after month, we continue to see neighbors, organizations, businesses, and volunteers working to create exactly that.

Dorothy Prophet was raised on Broadway so it comes as no shock that theatre and the performing arts generally are a huge part of her life. Born in New York City, her father was a firefighter, and after her parents divorced, she grew up between two very different worlds. She spent the school year in Montana with her mother and her summers in New York with her dad. Those summers shaped her life. “My dad would take me to the theater all the time,” Dorothy says. “I was just enamored with it.” After high school, Dorothy chose a somewhat unconventional path. College did not appeal to her. “To me that just seemed like a high school with ashtrays,” she says with a laugh. Instead, Dorothy auditioned for a traveling nightclub band. She got the job and spent five years on the road, singing in bars across the country. When the band eventually broke up, she settled in Seattle, one of her favorite stops along the way. Like many artists, she pieced together work to survive. She bartended, waitressed, and kept singing and performing when she could. She eventually married and had children while doing community theatre on the side when she could. Dorothy ended up in Sandpoint almost by accident. “One day my son came home from preschool and said that he had to have Nikes,” she recalls. “He said, ‘I can’t have just regular shoes. I have to have Nikes.’” That moment hit her hard. It was not really about the shoes. It was about values. She and her husband realized they did not want their children growing up in a culture where status and brand names carried so much weight. Soon after, while driving back to Seattle from a trip to Montana, they passed through Sandpoint. The kids were misbehaving, so they pulled over and ended up staying a few days. Those few days were enough. They decided to move to Sandpoint and made it happen about a year later, in 1994. She’s been here ever since. While in Sandpoint, she became involved with a long-established local company called Unicorn Players. She eventually served as vice president. As her children grew older, she shifted to directing more. “I found that I really liked directing,” she says. “Unless there was a part that I absolutely loved, I was going to volunteer to direct.” Dorothy was not interested in putting on shows simply for light entertainment. “To do a show that’s purely for the entertainment of it is a waste of time for me,” she explains. “I want something that makes people laugh, but also makes them think or makes them cry.” Dorothy’s life changed forever when her son, Cade, died in an accident. The grief was overwhelming. “When you’re steeped in that much grief, you have a couple of options,” she says. “You can shut it all down and do nothing. You can go even more inward.” Instead, Dorothy chose to create. “I thought, shutting down is not honoring his life and what he stood for and who he was,” she explains. “What can I do to honor him?” The answer was theater. She founded Cade Prophet Memorial Productions in his memory. The organization produces intimate, thoughtful plays and donates proceeds to Better Together Animal Alliance in Cade’s memory. When Dorothy’s children were young and money was tight, they would visit the animal shelter for something inexpensive to do. They read to the animals and spent time with them. Cade affectionately called the animals “the inmates.” “Up until just weeks before he passed away, whenever he would come back to Sandpoint, he’d say, ‘Hey mom, let’s go see the inmates,’” she explains. Today, her biggest challenge is not finding actors or scripts. It is finding space. Sandpoint has seen many theater groups come and go since she moved there in 1994. Venues are limited and often expensive. She dreams of a small, dedicated performance space in town, something intimate and accessible. Dorothy’s vision is not about applause or prestige. It is about connection, emotion, and honoring her son’s life in the most meaningful way she knows how. Through every script she reads and every show she stages, Dorothy is still doing what she learned to love as a child in New York. She is stepping into a theater and inviting others to feel something real.

How One Question Sparked a Nonprofit That’s Changing Lives in North Idaho When explaining how North Idaho Mountain Sports Education Fund (NIMSEF) came to be, Executive Director Jeff Rouleau kept circling back to one powerful idea: Can I solve that problem? That simple question is how NIMSEF was born. Years before the organization existed, Jeff was working as a ski instructor at Schweitzer Mountain. After hosting local fourth graders for a free ski day, instructors received thank-you notes from the students. One letter stopped Jeff in his tracks: “Thank you for the best day of my life ever, but I’ll probably never see you again, so goodbye.” That sentence revealed a quiet truth: for some local kids, skiing wasn’t a seasonal activity; it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Not long after, Jeff found himself on a chairlift making casual conversation with fellow community members. When he asked how often they had skied that season, their answer surprised him: “This is our only day. We just can’t afford to ski more than that.” These were people who lived and worked in the community, raising families and contributing every day to the place they called home. Yet access to mountain sports was still out of reach. That was the moment it clicked. “That just didn’t seem right to me. So I asked myself, ‘How do we fix this?’” Jeff reflects. Why Access Matters Jeff believes communities only function when everyone belongs. The mountain economy depends on restaurants, shops, banks, gas stations, roads, and first responders. Every role matters. So why should some kids grow up able to participate in mountain sports while others sit in school on Monday morning listening to stories they’ll never get to tell themselves? “This program isn’t just about skiing. It’s about giving kids a sense that they belong here,” says Jeff. Jeff brought the idea to Schweitzer’s leadership: a program designed to remove financial barriers and give local kids real access to skiing and snowboarding. They said yes. In its first year, NIMSEF served 22 kids. Today, the program supports roughly 90 students each season and has provided more than 1,000 scholarships to local youth. “We’ve now given out over a thousand scholarships. That’s something I’m really proud of,” says Jeff. Teaching Responsibility, Not Entitlement From the very first year, NIMSEF asks students to have skin in the game. New participants are required to earn and contribute their first $50 themselves. Parents are encouraged to have kids work for it, whether that means walking dogs, shoveling snow, mowing lawns, cutting firewood, or doing extra chores. Jeff has watched kids arrive with jars of coins earned 25 cents at a time. He’s seen kids show up still dirty from a day of hard work. “When kids work for something themselves, it means more. They value it differently,” he explains. Each year, the required contribution increases slightly, preparing students to eventually take full ownership of their participation. Kids also help by selling raffle tickets. Through NIMSEF, students receive: Eight weeks of lessons Loaner gear (skis, boards, boots, helmets, goggles) A season pass to Schweitzer Coaching, structure, and access they otherwise wouldn’t have Participant Adeo Laboy shares what the program has meant to him. He started out skiing, then discovered snowboarding and everything changed. Over the years, he progressed through multiple coaches and training levels, selling raffle tickets and working jobs to earn his contribution. Adeo recently received a scholarship to join the Snowboard Northwest competitive team. That opportunity would never have been visible without NIMSEF. Snowboarding has become more than a hobby. It’s become a passion and a dream for the future. How the Community Can Help NIMSEF relies on community support to continue its work. Donations can be made through the organization’s website via PayPal or by mailing a check. Financial support is critical; each season requires a substantial payment to Schweitzer for lift access alone. The organization also accepts: Gently used outerwear Helmets and goggles Newer equipment that meets safety and insurance requirements Each year, NIMSEF hosts a gear night at Schweitzer where students are outfitted, sometimes for the very first time, with everything they need. A Problem Worth Solving The North Idaho Mountain Sports Education Fund exists because someone noticed an unfair gap and refused to accept it as inevitable. What started with a child’s letter and a chairlift conversation became a solution that continues to change lives, one student, one family, one season at a time. Sometimes, making a difference doesn’t start with a big plan. It starts with a question: Can I solve that problem? And sometimes, the answer reshapes an entire community.

North Idaho has a new option for families seeking a high school that combines rigorous academics with intentional Christian formation: Valor Christian School in Sandpoint. Valor offers a learning environment designed to cultivate students’ minds while enriching their spiritual well-being, preparing them not just for a career, but for a life that seeks to glorify God in both challenging and prosperous times. Building a School from the Ground Up The idea for Valor began with a simple and obvious observation: the area lacked a local Christian high school. After founders Luke Patterson and his wife, Kiersten decided to pursue filling the gap, the next question was whether to start from scratch or build on an existing curriculum or school model. They decided to build from scratch. Starting from scratch allowed the founders to design the school intentionally. “We really wanted to take our time to evaluate what it is that we were going to build. Classical education is a big part of our focus, as well as worldview formation,” Luke explains. Dusty Smith, who joined Valor as principal at the beginning of its second year, was impressed by the attention to detail in a young school. “When I read through the website and some of the school documents, I was very impressed with the amount of detail that existed for a school less than a year old,” he says. Name and Mission: Why “Valor”? The name Valor was chosen deliberately. “Valor points first and foremost to courage. But it’s also about conflict. The conflict of values, vision, and purpose in our culture. We want to prepare students to live well in that conflict on behalf of truth, goodness, and beauty. That’s why forming habits of thought, communication, and moral character is so crucial,” Luke explains. Valor emphasizes that Christian values are not abstract or optional; they are anchored in Christ as the source of wisdom and knowledge. “Our students are learning that values are attributes of a person, not floating ideas. At Valor, we encourage students to submit to the Lord Jesus Christ in every area. That takes courage, self-sacrifice, and commitment,” Luke says. Community and Culture Though Sandpoint is a small town, Valor has found a strong base of support. Probably unsurprisingly to most, there is a larger demand here compared to other communities of similar size for an education that doesn’t follow the traditional public school model. “North Idaho families tend to be independent thinkers. Many feel a personal responsibility for their children’s education and want a school that aligns with their values and goals,” Luke says. The school even attracts families from outside the immediate area, including students commuting from just over the Montana border. Education with a Purpose At Valor, academics are inseparable from purpose. Luke emphasizes that the school’s Christian worldview shapes everything. “What is the purpose of life at all? That’s the core foundation piece. We believe the end goal of life is to glorify God and enjoy Him. Everything else is built on that,” he says. While college and career preparation are part of the picture, they are not Valor’s sole aim. College can be a noble goal, but the mission of Valor is not limited to, or even prioritizing college prep. The school seeks to impact other aspects of life that are equally, if not more, meaningful than earning a college degree. Dusty notes that this broader perspective is part of Valor’s appeal to parents. Families in this area often come from a homeschooling background and are looking to transition their students into a school where the teachers know their child, are teaching in a biblical worldview, and provide academic expertise in subjects that may be more challenging for a home educator. What Is Classical Education? A hallmark of Valor is its classical education approach, which emphasizes wisdom, critical thinking, and deep engagement with ideas. Valor staff place great value on the lessons of the past. In a culture that often seeks to disconnect from history, Valor intentionally leans into the wisdom of civilization’s foundations, drawing from original philosophers, early church fathers, and forefathers across disciplines. Students engage directly with the source material, reading original texts in full rather than summaries. “Classical education helps students learn how to learn. The content is a tool for teaching thinking skills: reading, writing, debating, and connecting ideas across subjects. Students learn to evaluate knowledge, consider different perspectives, and think critically about what they read,” explains Dusty. This approach aims to build not only knowledge but also the ability to reason, communicate, and engage thoughtfully with the world. Valor sees itself as an extension of the family and church, partnering with parents in the spiritual and moral formation of their children. They view themselves as a tool in the hands of parents. The idea being that a student can’t be fully transformed just by what they’re learning at school. School lessons need to mirror what they’re being told at home and at church. Valor wants to partner with parents who share the same goals for their students. Valor’s enrollment window opens each February, starting with returning families. The process includes an online application followed by an interview with the principal. Prospective students may even spend a day in classes to experience the school firsthand. Tuition rates for the 2026/27 school year will be published in February, and scholarships are available to make the school accessible to more families.  Valor Christian School isn’t just a high school. It’s a vision for a community of learners who are intellectually curious, morally grounded, and prepared to engage the world with courage and wisdom. Families interested in enrollment, scholarships, or visiting the campus can find more information on Valor’s website .

The Pend Oreille Arts Council (POAC) has long been a hub for creativity, connecting artists, students, and the wider community through exhibitions, performances, and educational programs. Whether you’re an aspiring artist, an art lover, or just curious, POAC offers a wide range of opportunities to engage with the arts. Supporting Artists at Every Stage POAC supports artists at every stage of their journey. Even those who may be hesitant to share their work will find support and encouragement. “Artists can drop off their work and leave. We’ll hang it, handle promotion, and just trust the process together,” explains Arts Coordinator Claire Lutz. This philosophy removes the pressure from the creative process, allowing artists to focus on what they do best: creating. Whether it’s a single piece in a group show or a solo exhibition, POAC provides a platform for local talent to shine. POAC’s commitment to the arts goes beyond visual media. The council also sponsors performing arts events, bringing music, theater, and interactive performances to venues like the Panida Theater and The Hive. These events are often tied to educational programs, allowing students and community members to experience live performance in an accessible way. Bringing Art to Kids Education and community outreach are at the heart of POAC’s mission. Through the Kaleidoscope program, volunteers visit 5-6 local elementary schools each month, teaching art lessons to students who might not otherwise have access to creative instruction. Claire notes, “Volunteers don’t have to be professional artists; they just need to care about art and working with kids.” By providing supplies, curriculum, and training, POAC empowers volunteers to make a meaningful impact while inspiring a new generation of young artists. These lessons are often the only formal art instruction the students receive, making the program a vital part of their educational experience. We’ve written about their Kaleidoscope art program that you can read about here. A Class for Every Interest For adults and youth, POAC offers a diverse range of classes and workshops. From oil painting and sculpture to creative, multi-medium sessions, there’s an opportunity for everyone to explore and develop their skills. “You can do a one-off project or commit to a longer-term class to really develop your skills,” Claire says, highlighting the flexibility that allows everyone to find a class that fits their interests and schedule. For newcomers and long-time residents alike, POAC is more than a gallery or performance venue. It’s a space where community and creativity meet. With exhibitions, performances, classes, and outreach programs, the Pend Oreille Arts Council continues to make a meaningful impact on the community, bringing art to life, inspiring creativity, and fostering a thriving cultural landscape.

January 2026: A Community Built by Participation Every strong community has something in common. People who care enough to get involved. As we reflected on the start of 2026, one theme emerged again and again throughout Bonner County: participation. Not just showing up when there's a problem to solve, but choosing to invest time, energy, ideas, and resources into building something better together. We saw it in Priest Lake, where a classroom project grew into a remarkable act of community giving. What started as a gingerbread house fundraiser ultimately raised thousands of dollars, honoring the legacy of a beloved library volunteer while demonstrating the power of collective action. Small acts, multiplied by many people, created an impact far greater than anyone expected. Read more > We saw it in the formation of the Pend Oreille Trade Cooperative, a grassroots effort working to create new opportunities for students, strengthen the local workforce, and preserve valuable trades for future generations. Rather than waiting for someone else to solve a growing challenge, community members began building a solution themselves. Learn More > We saw it in nonprofit leaders, service providers, and community partners coming together through SPIN to share ideas, address challenges, and strengthen the network of support available to local residents. We saw it in volunteers who continue to give their time and talents to causes they care about. These stories may seem unrelated on the surface, but they all point to the same truth: strong communities aren't built by institutions alone. They're built by people who choose to participate. Whether through volunteering, giving, mentoring, serving on a board, attending community events, supporting local organizations, or simply lending a helping hand, every person has the ability to shape the future of the place they call home. The question isn't whether our community will continue to grow and change. The question is whether we'll choose to be part of that story. Fortunately, Bonner County continues to answer with a resounding yes! 

For more than 45 years, Community Assistance League has quietly strengthened Bonner County through grants, scholarships, and volunteer-powered generosity—led by members who serve with heart.