Breckenridge Texan

By Alex Kielar/Breckenridge Texan

Over a year ago, I took a chance on myself and my future. I packed up my life in Honesdale, Pennsylvania, and drove south to Breckenridge, taking a leap of faith I’d never allowed myself before. From small‑town Pennsylvania to small‑town Texas, I had no idea what waited for me on the other end of that long drive. But for once, the uncertainty didn’t scare me. All my life, I’d taken the safe route, the predictable path. This time, I wanted to take a big swing and trust that something good would come from betting on myself.

I arrived in Breckenridge not knowing a single person, or even knowing a town with that name existed outside of Colorado. I came here with nothing but a job offer, a long drive behind me and enough stuff to fit in my Toyota Camry and a friend’s Nissan. Oh, and I arrived in January, where it was still very much winter back home. When I stepped out of my car in front of my new apartment, it was about 85 degrees. It was a massive shock to my system, and it was then that I knew my day-to-day life was about to change drastically.

It took me a few weeks to really grow accustomed to the new routine and the new job. Everything felt different from the life I’d left behind, and as someone who’s naturally introverted, I take time to feel comfortable around new faces. I fell in love with writing when I was young, but it took me much longer to understand that being a writer isn’t just sitting behind a computer typing. If I ever wanted to become the kind of writer or author I’ve idolized and tried to model my work after, I was going to have to talk to people — really talk to them. My first full‑time writing job at the Sullivan County Democrat pushed me in that direction, but moving here took it to another level.

Working at the Breckenridge American forced me to stretch even further. I wasn’t just one writer on a larger staff — I was the writer. The one who had to show up at every meeting, every game, every event, while also writing the stories and snapping the photos. In a place where I didn’t know a soul, it was trial by fire. I was pushed out from behind the screen and into conversations, gyms, meetings and moments that shaped not only my work, but me personally.

As time went on, I gained more confidence, and it was the kind of confidence that was palpable, the kind people noticed before I even realized it was there. It was a confidence that opened doors, strengthened relationships and led to growth both professionally and personally.

As I continued to settle in, it stopped feeling like a trial by fire and became a place of real connection. The more I showed up, the more I felt welcomed, as city and county leaders, community members, parents and coaches started recognizing me around town. That’s when I realized that this town runs on relationships and personal connections. It runs on people who care deeply about their kids, their neighbors, their history and their future. I met parents who lived and breathed every Buckaroo game, coaches who poured their heart and soul into their teams, city and county leaders who fought hard in what they thought would help Breckenridge and Stephens County grow, and residents who simply wanted their stories told with honesty and integrity.

When February 2025 came around, my favorite football team, the Philadelphia Eagles, was about to play in the Super Bowl against the Kansas City Chiefs. Being so new to the area, I wasn’t familiar with any bars or spots to watch the big game. What started as simply looking for a place to catch the matchup turned into one of my first real connections here. I found out the Breckenridge Elks Lodge was hosting a watch party, and that’s where I proudly watched my Eagles win, much to the dismay of Cowboys and Patrick Mahomes fans. I met several members of the lodge that night, including Exalted Ruler John Powell and Secretary Desirée Powell, who were kind enough to give me a ride over. After the game ended, with a few celebratory drinks in me, the late Wayne Justus and his wife, Lynda, made sure I got home safely.

That night, the Powells also asked if I would consider joining the lodge. A month later, I did, and Wayne was the one who swore me in during my initiation ceremony. He was a great man and one of the many meaningful connections I made during my time here.

In between the work, I wanted to get out and explore more of Texas on my days off. I took weekend trips to Austin, Fort Worth and Dallas, and spent time wandering through state parks and finding new outdoor spots to hike, run or just breathe for a while. I saw a country concert at Billy Bob’s, watched Fourth of July fireworks burst over the Trinity River in Fort Worth, and spent a day exploring the historic Stockyards. I even spent my birthday week at Globe Life Field watching the Rangers take on my favorite team, the New York Yankees. Those trips became little reminders that, even though I was far from home, there was a whole new part of the country waiting for me to experience.

Of course, I also got a taste of authentic Texas barbecue at several spots throughout my exploration. That alone could fill its own story. But it’s not just the food that makes it special. Yes, the meat has to be cooked right to impress any Texan, but it’s the entire experience that stays with you. The smell of the smokers drifting through the air, the southern hospitality of the waiter or waitress, the room filled with people who love good food and good company. And then there’s the best part — washing it all down with an ice‑cold glass of sweet tea.

But no matter where I went or what I explored, I always found myself coming back to Breckenridge with a deeper appreciation for the place I was calling home. The big cities were exciting, the parks were beautiful, and the barbecue was unforgettable, but it was the quiet familiarity of this town that grounded me. The routines I was building, the faces I recognized, the stories waiting to be told — they were what made this chapter feel meaningful. Every time I returned from a trip, I felt a little more connected to the community I was growing into, and a little more grateful for the unexpected life I’d found here.

One of the highlights of my time here was getting to cover Texas football and seeing firsthand the passion this tight‑knit community has for its Buckaroos. The games on the field weren’t always pretty, but the atmosphere never failed — the pride, the noise, the desire to put their best foot forward no matter the circumstances. I got to see them “Light the B” a handful of times during the season, and each time felt like a celebration of more than just a win. And it wasn’t just football, even though that’s where the crowds show up the strongest. You could feel that same energy in basketball gyms, on baseball and softball fields, and in every corner of the athletic programs.

But the passion didn’t stop at sports. This community shows up just as fiercely for its 4‑H and FFA programs, and for its theater and band students. Whether it was a livestock show, a performance on stage or a halftime routine, the support was the same — loud, proud and rooted in a deep love for the kids who represent this place.

If there’s one story that showed me just how deeply this community cares, it’s Milly Cate McClymond’s. Covering her journey, from the flood at Camp Mystic to standing in the nation’s spotlight at the State of the Union, was one of the most meaningful experiences of my time here. What struck me most wasn’t just the national attention her story received, but the way Breckenridge rallied around her long before that moment. People asked about her, prayed for her, checked in on her family and celebrated every step of her recovery. When she returned home, you could feel the collective relief and pride across town.

Telling her story reminded me why local journalism matters. It’s not just about scores or meetings or headlines — it’s about people. It’s about moments that shape a community and the young girl at the center of one who showed strength far beyond her years.

As my time here has quickly wound down, I’ve found myself reflecting on the moments, experiences and lessons I’ll carry with me long after I’m gone. My faith was one aspect of my life that was incredibly strengthened while I was here. Living in a community that loves Jesus so deeply, no matter the denomination, brought me closer to my Lord and Savior in ways I didn’t expect. The heart this community has for outsiders is unmistakable, and I felt it from the moment I arrived, a guy who had moved more than 1,500 miles from everything familiar.

I attended church frequently here and felt God’s presence in everything I did.

Breckenridge didn’t just welcome me, it embraced me. People treated me like someone worth knowing, not just some new, unknown reporter in town. That type of kindness leaves a mark. It reminded me what genuine Christian love looks like when it’s lived out in everyday life — steady, generous, and without hesitation.

That same kindness came from Tony and Carla here at the Texan. When I was let go from the Breckenridge American, they allowed me the opportunity to continue writing until my last week here, including as I write this. Their support has meant more to me than they know, and has allowed me to close this chapter with gratitude rather than bitterness.

So this is where I say goodbye to Breckenridge and to Texas, at least for now, as I head back to Pennsylvania. While this chapter in my life’s book is closing, I know it’s not the end of the story. I can already see myself coming back to visit the friends who became family, the people who shaped me, and the town that welcomed a stranger from 1,500 miles away with open arms. This place will always hold a piece of me, and I’ll carry its lessons, its kindness, and its spirit into whatever comes next.

As Robin Williams’ character Sean Maguire says in Good Will Hunting, “I gotta go see about a girl.”

So long, partners. Keep lighting that B, Breckenridge.

Cutline, top photo: Journalist Alex Kielar, who came to Breckenridge a little over a year ago, is moving back to Pennsylvania this week. He’s taking with him a love of Texas barbecue and sweet tea, a lot of good memories and an appreciation for this community and its people. (Photo by Tony Pilkington/Breckenridge Texan)