My heart was saddened when I heard that my friend and co-worker Jerry Fink had passed away on Friday night. There were three people that I looked up to in our business and gave me sound advice… Bill Connors, Berry Tramel and Jerry Fink.
Jerry always told me that you can’t argue with the facts. Some people don’t need to raise their voice to be heard.
Jerry Fink was one of those people. For more than half a century, Jerry showed up — week after week, deadline after deadline — with a notebook, a camera, and a deep belief that local stories matter. He believed that the small moments, the ordinary victories, and even the quiet struggles of a community deserved to be recorded with care and respect.
Jerry wasn’t flashy. He didn’t seek attention. He simply did the work — faithfully, thoughtfully, and with a dry sense of humor that often arrived just when you needed it most.
He learned the craft the old-school way. In 1974, fresh out of college, Jerry walked into a newsroom at the Mayo Tribune where an editor taught him the value of a strong, newsy front page — the kind that makes a reader stop, look twice, and say, “I need to read that.” That lesson stayed with him for life. Headlines mattered. Details mattered. Accuracy mattered. But above all, people mattered.
That belief carried Jerry across decades of journalism — from covering city councils and school boards to photographing Friday night lights and telling the stories of everyday folks who might never expect to see their names in print. He had a gift for noticing. For listening. For letting the story speak without getting in the way.
In a career highlight that still amazed those who knew him, Jerry was selected as one of a small group of American journalists to participate in a journalistic exchange to Pakistan — a rare opportunity that broadened his worldview and deepened his appreciation for the freedoms and responsibilities of a free press.
Yet despite the experiences and accolades, Jerry never lost his grounding. He remained steady, humble, and devoted to the communities he served through the Eufaula Indian Journal and McIntosh County Democrat. Even as his health declined, Jerry continued to meet weekly deadlines — determined to finish the story, file the photo, and do the job right.
In 2025, Jerry was honored by the Oklahoma Press Association for more than 50 years in journalism, joining a long list of awards recognizing his excellence in news writing and photography. He accepted the recognition quietly, the same way he approached everything — grateful, but never boastful.
Those who worked alongside him will remember his dry wit, his calm presence in the newsroom, and the way he could sum up a complicated issue with just a few wellchosen words. Jerry didn’t just report on this community — he was part of it.
His legacy lives on in the yellowed clippings, the black-and-white photos, the carefully written stories, and the countless readers who trusted him to tell the truth fairly and kindly.
Most of all, his legacy lives on in the standard he set: Show up. Tell the story. Take care of your community. That was Jerry Fink. And he will be deeply missed.
