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Seattle Seahawks, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
Seattle Seahawks, Dec. 1
The Seattle Seahawks improved to 9-3 with an NFL win over the visiting Minnesota Vikings 2... More

12/01/2025

OSU VB & BXB, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
OSU VB & BXB, Dec. 1
OSU vbOregon Statersquos volleyball team finished the WCC regular season with a 3-0 win ov... More

12/01/2025

UO VB & BXB, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
UO VB & BXB, Dec. 1
UO vbOregonrsquos volleyball team wrapped up the regular season with a 3-0 Big 10 Conferen... More

12/01/2025

Beavers New Football Coach, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
Beavers New Football Coach, Dec. 1
OSU release - CORVALLIS Ore ndash JaMarcus Shephard has been named Oregon State University... More

12/01/2025

OSU FB, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
OSU FB, Dec. 1
The Pac-2 football race this season ended up in tie this season as the Washington State Co... More

12/01/2025

UO FB, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
UO FB, Dec. 1
Oregonrsquos football team brushed away Pacific Northwest rival Washington Saturday in a r... More

12/01/2025

Prep Winter Sports Begin this Week, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
Prep Winter Sports Begin this Week, Dec. 1
The Oregon Schools Activities Association OSAA allows its member schools to start playing ... More

12/01/2025

Prep FB Championships, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
Prep FB Championships, Dec. 1
The OSAAOnPoint Community Credit Union State Football Championships were played this past ... More

12/01/2025

Police logs, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
Police logs, Dec. 1
WarrantAccording to an entry on the NBPD log for Nov 27 749 am 2700 block Virginia Ave Jor... More

12/01/2025

CBPD seeks Public’s Assistance to Identify Burglary Suspect, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
CBPD seeks Public’s Assistance to Identify Burglary Suspect, Dec. 1
CBPD release - The Coos Bay Police Department CBPD is seeking assistance from the public t... More

12/01/2025

SCINT Release, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
SCINT Release, Dec. 1
CCSO report - As a member of SCINT I would first like to thank the community for their con... More

12/01/2025

Hwy. 140E Fatal, Klamath Co., Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
Hwy. 140E Fatal, Klamath Co., Dec. 1
Klamath County Ore Nov 29 2025- On Wednesday November 26 2025 at 100 pm Oregon State Polic... More

12/01/2025

Angler Licenses, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
Angler Licenses, Dec. 1
ODFW report - 2026 angler licenses will be available for purchase beginning Monday Decembe... More

12/01/2025

Quakes, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
Quakes, Dec. 1
A 30-magnitude earthquake was recorded on the outer fault line of the two that run paralle... More

12/01/2025

CBPL Events, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
CBPL Events, Dec. 1
Coos Bay Public Library 525 Anderson Ave Coos Bay OR - CREA Monday December 1 in the Myrtl... More

12/01/2025

Coos Co. Board of Commissioners, Dec. 1 Featured News by JC News
Coos Co. Board of Commissioners, Dec. 1
The Coos Co Board of Commissioners will meet on Tuesday Dec 2 2025 830 - 1130am 201 No Ada... More

12/01/2025

✍️Behind the Bars: Female Deputy Insights✍️ By Deputy Vierck, Eight years, two months, and twenty-five days. In a jail, everyone counts time. Adults in Custody mark the days and “wake-ups” until release. Deputies count the hours until the weekend or the years until retirement. I could recount every shift I worked at the Coos County Jail—the triumphs and the traumas—but no single page could hold them all. My first and best lesson came before I ever put on the uniform. My aunt, a long-time correctional officer in California, told me, “Your words and your time cost you nothing. They’re still people. It never hurts to listen or to offer a kind word.” I have carried that advice like a compass through every corridor and crisis of my career. It is the greatest gift I was ever given. Both deputies and those we supervise will admit that the job can breed an “us versus them” mindset; it’s practically baked into the design of the place. Yet treating every person with basic respect is the only way to keep our own humanity intact in an environment that can be hazardous, stressful, and, at times, deeply traumatic. We work among individuals society has labeled the worst of the worst. We read the charging instruments, hear the details of unimaginable crimes, and sometimes witness people at their lowest. Still, I have used my aunt’s advice to build genuine rapport across the bars. More than once, an Adult in Custody has stepped in to protect me—from physical attacks, verbal threats, even insults from their peers. We never count on that kind of loyalty, but when it happens, it is a quiet reminder that respect can travel in both directions. Being a woman in a male-dominated profession brings its own challenges. Society—and sometimes the people we supervise—assumes I am smaller, weaker, less capable. Those assumptions are not universally true or false; they simply miss the point. Women are indispensable in corrections. Some of us are exceptional firearms instructors or defensive-tactics trainers. Others excel at jail inspections, ensuring compliance with Oregon Jail Standards. Some are fierce fighters. I see myself as a strategist and a de-escalator—skills rooted in an upbringing where violence was absent, and words were the first line of defense. That background left me unprepared for the raw aggression I would eventually face, but it also gave me tools many of my male colleagues do not possess: the ability to calm an enraged man with the steady tone of an exasperated mother, or to search a female inmate with the dignity the law and basic decency require. People are always surprised when they learn where I work. “Wait—you work with men, too?” Yes. Murderers, rapists, people arrested for DUII—everyone who comes through the sally port. The shocked look on their faces used to bother me. Now it fills me with a strange pride. I don’t look like their mental image of a jail deputy, and I have learned to be proud of that mismatch. I have served as Watch Commander, running an entire shift of four to seven deputies when the sergeant is off. For the last three years, I have been a Field Training Officer, shaping new hires and praying they carry forward the same empathy my aunt gave me. When George Floyd was killed, I posted publicly about my disappointment in bad policing. Someone replied, “You only care because bad cops make you look bad.” That remark missed the mark by a mile. No one lasts long in this profession for ego or glory. I have missed holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries. I have been cursed at, spit on, and assaulted. Some mornings, it takes everything I have just to walk through the staff door. There have been days I nearly turned in my badge for something safer, softer, saner. Yet I stay—because I believe I am here for a reason. I mentor rookies. I talk people down from the edge of suicide. I have knelt in someone else’s blood, applying pressure and praying the ambulance hurries. The job is brutal on bodies, minds, and relationships. But it has also given me a second family unlike any other. You hear it said that it’s not where you work, it’s who you work with. In law enforcement, that cliché is gospel. I know deputies who will drive across the county at 3 a.m. to check on a struggling coworker. I know others who crochet blankets and stuffed animals for every baby born into our extended family. I know men and women who have run into danger to save a life—sometimes the life of the very person they arrested the week before. We are protectors. We are human beings capable of profound empathy. My greatest hope is that one day the public will look past the uniform, past the headlines, and see us clearly for who we are. Featured News by Coos County Sheriff
✍️Behind the Bars: Female Deputy Insights✍️ By Deputy Vierck, Eight years, two months, and twenty-five days. In a jail, everyone counts time. Adults in Custody mark the days and “wake-ups” until release. Deputies count the hours until the weekend or the years until retirement. I could recount every shift I worked at the Coos County Jail—the triumphs and the traumas—but no single page could hold them all. My first and best lesson came before I ever put on the uniform. My aunt, a long-time correctional officer in California, told me, “Your words and your time cost you nothing. They’re still people. It never hurts to listen or to offer a kind word.” I have carried that advice like a compass through every corridor and crisis of my career. It is the greatest gift I was ever given. Both deputies and those we supervise will admit that the job can breed an “us versus them” mindset; it’s practically baked into the design of the place. Yet treating every person with basic respect is the only way to keep our own humanity intact in an environment that can be hazardous, stressful, and, at times, deeply traumatic. We work among individuals society has labeled the worst of the worst. We read the charging instruments, hear the details of unimaginable crimes, and sometimes witness people at their lowest. Still, I have used my aunt’s advice to build genuine rapport across the bars. More than once, an Adult in Custody has stepped in to protect me—from physical attacks, verbal threats, even insults from their peers. We never count on that kind of loyalty, but when it happens, it is a quiet reminder that respect can travel in both directions. Being a woman in a male-dominated profession brings its own challenges. Society—and sometimes the people we supervise—assumes I am smaller, weaker, less capable. Those assumptions are not universally true or false; they simply miss the point. Women are indispensable in corrections. Some of us are exceptional firearms instructors or defensive-tactics trainers. Others excel at jail inspections, ensuring compliance with Oregon Jail Standards. Some are fierce fighters. I see myself as a strategist and a de-escalator—skills rooted in an upbringing where violence was absent, and words were the first line of defense. That background left me unprepared for the raw aggression I would eventually face, but it also gave me tools many of my male colleagues do not possess: the ability to calm an enraged man with the steady tone of an exasperated mother, or to search a female inmate with the dignity the law and basic decency require. People are always surprised when they learn where I work. “Wait—you work with men, too?” Yes. Murderers, rapists, people arrested for DUII—everyone who comes through the sally port. The shocked look on their faces used to bother me. Now it fills me with a strange pride. I don’t look like their mental image of a jail deputy, and I have learned to be proud of that mismatch. I have served as Watch Commander, running an entire shift of four to seven deputies when the sergeant is off. For the last three years, I have been a Field Training Officer, shaping new hires and praying they carry forward the same empathy my aunt gave me. When George Floyd was killed, I posted publicly about my disappointment in bad policing. Someone replied, “You only care because bad cops make you look bad.” That remark missed the mark by a mile. No one lasts long in this profession for ego or glory. I have missed holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries. I have been cursed at, spit on, and assaulted. Some mornings, it takes everything I have just to walk through the staff door. There have been days I nearly turned in my badge for something safer, softer, saner. Yet I stay—because I believe I am here for a reason. I mentor rookies. I talk people down from the edge of suicide. I have knelt in someone else’s blood, applying pressure and praying the ambulance hurries. The job is brutal on bodies, minds, and relationships. But it has also given me a second family unlike any other. You hear it said that it’s not where you work, it’s who you work with. In law enforcement, that cliché is gospel. I know deputies who will drive across the county at 3 a.m. to check on a struggling coworker. I know others who crochet blankets and stuffed animals for every baby born into our extended family. I know men and women who have run into danger to save a life—sometimes the life of the very person they arrested the week before. We are protectors. We are human beings capable of profound empathy. My greatest hope is that one day the public will look past the uniform, past the headlines, and see us clearly for who we are.
Behind the Bars Female Deputy Insights By Deputy Vierck Eight years two months and twent... More

12/01/2025

Oregon man living in car with pig, dog gets fresh start in Chicago Featured News by Oregon Today News
Oregon man living in car with pig, dog gets fresh start in Chicago
More

12/01/2025

Dear Abby: His Christian wife says she’ll divorce him if he doesn’t give up hosting his weekly live podcast Featured News by Oregon Today News
Dear Abby: His Christian wife says she’ll divorce him if he doesn’t give up hosting his weekly live podcast
DEAR ABBY Ive hosted a live podcast for years Its my creative outlet my therapy Recently m... More

12/01/2025

Asking Eric: Family, friends don’t seem to appreciate time I put into tedious Christmas cookie tradition Featured News by Oregon Today News
Asking Eric: Family, friends don’t seem to appreciate time I put into tedious Christmas cookie tradition
Dear Eric My late mother made a special Christmas cookie that required tedious decorating ... More

12/01/2025

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