Brett Milam.

There are two Garth Shanklins in the United States: One is a former member of the Army in his 70s, who works at a credit union in Wyoming, and the other has been the dedicated sports editor in Clermont and surrounding counties for nearly seven years. I can’t imagine The Clermont Sun without our Garth Shanklin.

Garth is younger than I am, but when I first joined The Clermont Sun as editor in January 2017, he was the person I turned to for all the things. He was and is the man of many hats, you see. One of my first asks of him was helping me to layout a page on the Asian Longhorned Beetle where I wanted the text of the story to wrap around a photograph of a tree I took. No matter for him; it was an easy click of a thingamajig and doodah in Photoshop. I still think about how cool that page looked. Or I was always asking for his help on a myriad of technical issues — despite my age, I’m not tech savvy at all, but Garth wears that hat. On more than one occasion, I sought his help in unlocking the mysteries of Quark, the very outdated design platform we used before switching to InDesign. Or I often was turning to him to bounce approaches and ideas off regarding news. Yes, Garth is a top-tier sports reporter, but his brain of many hats also has stellar, thoughtful news judgment and news writing wherewithal as well.

But of course, there is the predominant hat he wore: the sports encyclopedia hat. You sometimes hear stories of people who can remember every name and story they’ve covered and when and in what context. And you wonder how those people can actually exist and do that. Is it some magic trick? Some parlor trick to impress people? And then you meet somebody like Garth Shanklin who can indeed pull it off. Given the wide array of his coverage, both boys and girls sports, football, basketball, and baseball of course, but also cross-country, wrestling, volleyball, bowling, eSports, and so on, that is impressive. Garth took thousands of photos, often of one game, much less the many games he covered, and yet, if you sent him an email asking for your photo or your kid’s photo, he’d remember it, find it to send to you, and most likely, even have a story about what was going on when he took the photo, like a referee yelling at him for being in the spot or almost getting hit by a ball or what a weird sign a fan was holding just off to the side.

His ability to be a one-man sports department was a privilege to watch and help to platform for the five years I was an editor. I still don’t know how he live Tweeted games, took incredible action photographs that everybody in the counties wanted to get of their kids, grandkids and of themselves, took live game notes, interviewed the coaches and athletic directors, wrote eight or nine different stories, and before the newspaper scaled back because of COVID and other business reasons, would fill a whole section of sports by himself. All without coffee or energy drinks, mind you. Instead, what coursed through Garth’s veins was a dedication to the kids and coaches he covered and doing so with an unmatched level of humility. For someone who wears so many hats, Garth doesn’t have a big head. He is understated and unassuming, never boastful, even though he has much to boast about. He’s one of those people who had awards he’s won and recognition he’s received from statehouse legislators sitting under a pile of old newspapers in the office. And his level of comprehensiveness and attention to his craft occurred despite being severely underpaid and under-appreciated while taking on more and more sports coverage throughout his tenure.

I like to think Megan and I created a great news side of the newspaper, but at the end of the day, I knew people were mostly picking up papers because of sports – for his photos and his stories. For good reason. He also undersold his writing (and how much he liked to write) and how much that sold sports because it would be very easy to get rote with game recaps, but he changed it up with interesting lead-ins and angles. He’s a sportswriter who can write and tell stories. Yet another hat.

Perhaps the most important hat he wears is being my friend. I have said it before and I will say it again, I can’t imagine making it as a successful editor for five years at the paper without him, his guidance, and his friendship. Whether it was long Tuesday nights and shooting the breeze about movies and reacting to goofy things we saw on Twitter, or even longer election nights that devolved into slap-happy hilarity, Garth was a necessary anchor in the office. Yes, for serious items, but also, many a time he brought me to tears owing to his sardonic, dry humor.

One of my favorite late Tuesday night memories of Garth occurred a few months before I left the newspaper. He happily went in with me on sponsoring children through Clermont County’s annual Christmas sponsorship program for children in Children’s Protective Services. I find it a fond memory because it’s a microcosm of Garth: Unflappable kindness, with a healthy dose of self-deprecation. We spent the night wrapping presents for the kids, and of course, he downplayed his gift-wrapping abilities. The gifts were beautifully wrapped. Obviously. While mine looked like a raccoon burrowed through a trash can of presents.

The newspaper isn’t going to be the same without Garth. Sports coverage in Clermont and the surrounding counties isn’t going to be the same without him. Nobody is indispensable, but Garth gets dang close. Not that he would ever take credit for as much, or what he’s meant to the area for seven years. But the newspaper will continue, as it has for nearly 200 years, and I’m hopeful the kids and coaches will continue to get their due recognition.

Garth Shanklin of Wyoming seems like an exemplary fellow – there’s an award named after him –, but I’m glad southern Ohio has its own Garth Shanklin. And you should be, too.

Thank you, Garth.

Brett Milam is the Former Editor of The Clermont Sun