I created this blog with the intention of sparking your imagination, inspiring you with stories of people who are making a difference in the world and just celebrating the small joys of life.
This first post might seem to be at odds with the vision behind my blog. But trust me: it’s not.
On the surface, this story has to do with death. But really, it’s a story about life. An amazingly vibrant, authentic life.
Alicia Parlette died yesterday morning.
The 28-year-old was a writer for the San Francisco Chronicle and a former co-editor-in-chief of the Granite Bay Gazette (the newspaper at my high school where I served as co-editor-in-chief last year). Alicia was a Gazette founder with a passion for journalism. She won huge accolades while on staff and went on to attend the University of Nevada-Reno, with plans to pursue a career in journalism.
At the age of 23, while working as a copy editor at the Chronicle – her dream job – Alicia was diagnosed with an incurable form of cancer. Cancer wasn’t foreign to Alicia. It killed her mother several years prior.
Alicia’s catharsis was the written word. She wrote an ongoing column about living with cancer that later was published as a book.
Alicia’s story is poignant, humorous and incredibly raw. The candor with which Alicia shared her battle resonated with people. Even though Alicia faced a monstrosity of a cancer, life was too good to let go of without a fight.
Read Alicia’s amazing story here.
My dad is the adviser of the Gazette. He had the privilege to get to know Alicia, first as a student, and later as a colleague and friend when she interned at the Sacramento Bee while in college.
I talked to my dad about Alicia maybe a week or so ago, after he had returned from visiting her at a hospital in San Francisco. He sounded weary, and he struggled to keep his voice from breaking as he explained the circumstances. Alicia had been given a week to live, he told me.
For the last three weeks of Alicia’s life, someone was by her side constantly. She was in and out of consciousness, joking with friends when she was able. Friends took turns reading To Kill a Mockingbird, her favorite novel. She passed away 15 minutes after it came to a close.
I never knew Alicia well. I used to visit my dad at deadline nights for the Gazette when I was young, and I can remember Alicia being there. And I can picture her smile (although it could be that I’ve heard her smile talked about so much, it has been indelibly printed in my brain).
But I didn’t have to personally encounter Alicia for her life to impact me. And that speaks to what an incredible person she was.
Alicia left a legacy of excellence behind her at the Gazette. She wrote incredible, award-winning stories and her leadership set the paper apart. Even in its early years, the Gazette was known for producing real-world journalism on a high school campus. As a member of the Gazette lineage, I can attest to the fact that we sought to uphold her example. She left an impact on hundreds of high school students, who for over a decade have strived to do good journalism like she did.
I remember sitting down and reading Alicia’s story for the first time a couple of years ago. I was blown away by her ability to share her story while she was in the midst of it. It was as though I was reading a gripping novel, except there was no climax and no resolution.
Alicia used words to communicate truth. She was willing to be real about cancer and the grief it caused her and those she loved. She reveled in the telling of her story. She was a writer. And she knew it.
Alicia’s story isn’t one of defeat. It’s one of triumph. Because in dying, she taught people how to live.
She will be missed.
Thank you for your words, Alicia. See you on the other side.
