Disclaimer: This isn’t a Sandhills News, Rant or NC Local product—it’s my personal experience on what it means to chase community-centered stories and navigate the reporting process as a researcher/reporter/traveler.
I love working from home, and Butters the Poosh loves to play.
So, at best, I can get 25 minutes of work done in one sitting before there’s a toy squeaking or a very targeted bark at my ankles.
Butters the Poodle-Shih-Tzu, aka my 10-month-old Poosh, demands attention by launching himself at my legs, a toy in tow. Photo by Diara J. Townes
For the next half-hour, I’m either tossing plushie animals or doing laps around the yard, tugging pine cones out of Butters’ mouth. Wash, rinse, repeat in another 30 minutes.
So “Work From Home” life became “Work From Anywhere With Wi-Fi.”
The Catch
Since moving to Sanford last year, I’ve spent an unhealthy amount of time searching for the perfect place to freelance and work remotely.
Coffee shops are my usual go-to. The city girl in me still craves a proper breakfast spot— a deli, a bagel joint—but I knew that was wishful thinking down here. Instead, I’ve settled into Sanford staples like Kathy’s Java Express and Family Grounds Coffee. Both are local spots, but they come with a catch: the hours.
Closed on Mondays, doors locked by 3 p.m. most weekdays. It took me months to finally accept that in the South, Sundays and Mondays aren’t workdays.
The walls at Kathy’s Java Express are my kind of coffee aesthetic in Sanford, NC. Photo by Diara J. Townes.
Starbucks was and always is an option, but the drive-thru chaos, constant noise, and the extra eye contact with the baristas are distracting, to say the least.
I’m Lovin’ It
So, when I met with an editor on a Sunday in late July, I expected a local coffee house or maybe that diner in Tramway I’d heard about but could never manage to visit before it closed at 3 p.m.
We met at McDonald’s at my editor’s suggestion. The “shop mom & pop” New Yorker in me huffed towards the door.
But once we sat down, it just…worked. We sank into Lee County lore as Happy Meals rolled out and drive-thru lines hummed along. Afterward, I lingered to finish grading assignments for my CUNY J-School students.
I won’t sleep on Mickey D’s again. Free Wi-Fi, a table booth’s worth to spread out, and yes—the McWrap is back, baby! Some fries and a frappé later, I was fully settled.
Lunch of champions.
But I soon found myself paying more attention to the patrons than to my paragraphs. Not ideal on deadline, which feels like every week since I started freelancing.
So the search continued.
Driving Thru
My sister and I drove 15 minutes south (ideal in a rural town) to Jitterbugz a few days later, a coffeehouse she’d discovered and thought I’d like.
It was beautiful, featuring wooden tables, lush greenery, fantastic coffee, and even a little drive-thru window.
However, when we arrived at 11:45, they informed us that they were closing at noon.
Devastated but still determined, I sat down, opened my laptop, connected to the Wi-Fi, sighed, closed it and put it back in my bag.
Another day at the kitchen table, Butters pawing at me for attention.
Inside Jitterbugz in Sanford, NC. Source: Priscilla Román via Google Images,
Weeks later, after bouncing back and forth from Family Grounds and Java Express, I drove east to Lillington in Harnett County and stumbled into Front Street Coffee, a hipster-esque spot tucked into a rural town.
I was only there for twenty minutes before I had to skip off to another project, but this place HAD to be it. Wi-Fi, frappes, tables inside AND outside, and private booths?!
Inside Front Street Coffee, which, as its namesake states, sits on Highway 421, an important thoroughfare that ends in Lillington and stretches northwest to Greensboro, NC. Photo by Diara J. Townes.
I went back later that week to meet an editor, and….I couldn't connect to the Wi-Fi. Tech issues happen, I get it, so I waited it out, hunkering down in one of the impressive booths. BUT, it was for naught. I found myself juggling between meetings on my phone and editing on my laptop via a hotspot before calling it and heading back to Sanford.
Just me mooching off Family Grounds free Wi-fi in my car in Sanford, NC, in between meetings and reporting. Photo by Diara J. Townes.
The baristas were nice about it, saying how their service sometimes drops. They also chatted about doing livestreams, giggling about the shop becoming TikTok famous.
A patron in a plaid shirt and worn denim jeans grunted, “I would not come back.” A chuckle followed, but a senior employee, bringing in boxes, caught it. “We won’t be doing that.”
I came back to Front Street a third time with zero internet issues, but knowing the Wi-Fi could go out unexpectedly makes me wary of making the trip.
In early September, I drove an hour north to Durham to meet a source for an environmental story I’m working on in another North Carolina county. #StayBusy.
This place, Cocoa Cinnamon, felt like a piece of DC or Arlington that I had visited here and there, but now fondly cherish, like Mae’s Market and Cafe, complete with pastries, Wi-Fi, colorful pillows, and oodles of inclusivity.
We started working inside before shifting into a delightful hodge-podge of tables and chairs out front.
If it weren’t for the parking being tight AF on those streets and the 50-mile drive, Cocoa would’ve been in the running!
I was so enthralled that I only took a single picture at Cocoa Cinnamon in Durham. Photo by Diara J. Townes
The Grounds
In my search for the perfect place to remote work, I find myself back at Kathy’s in Sanford. While the tight space makes laptop work a little challenging, I’m drawn by their cranberry salad, the frappés, and the friendliness of the staff who run the place.
And so it was at Kathy’s when I had my quintessential local reporter moment: perched at a diner counter with the Sanford Herald in hand, notebook open, taking notes while trading stories and gathering news tips from a new waitress, while sheriff’s deputies watched the room/eyed me from their high table.
I never felt more like a local reporter in my life. Silly for some, but for me, a striving academic-turned-journalist, this was monumental.
Getting ready to dig into this Smores Frappe and that morning’s edition of the Sanford Herald at Kathy’s Java Express Cafe. Photo by Diara J. Townes.
Sheriff’s Deputies in the background are observing me as I observe them at Kathy’s Java Express Cafe. Photo by Diara J. Townes.
In hindsight, that diner moment mattered more than I could find in any other coffeehouse I ventured to. It gave me the realization that where I work as a journalist is about that sense of belonging and placement. The Wi-Fi may work, but connectivity isn’t guaranteed.
Later that day, I learned of a loss that continues to ripple through my family. My grandmother, the steady matriarch who had grounded us all, had unexpectedly passed away.
In the days that followed, as we said our final goodbyes, I found myself reflecting on her strength, her no-nonsense integrity, and her deep care for others, as evident in many charitable endeavors throughout her life. That quirky diner moment became an unexpected anchor, a reminder of belonging and responsibility, even as I step into this new season of grief.
What grounds me now isn’t the ideal café but the connections I make while I’m there: conversations over counters, stories traded in passing, and those surprise moments when community and purpose align.
Like my mother before me, and her mother before her.
In loving memory of Ethel C. Davis. Sunrise: March 20, 1937, Sunset: September 11, 2025. A lady, a light, a legend.
Closing Time
Thanks for reading the second edition of Scout’s Compass 🧭 my weekly(ish) notes on the twists, turns, and occasional stumbles of this reporting journey.
For the bigger picture: project highlights, updates from colleagues, media conference takeaways, resources, and the curious finds I can’t help but share, keep an eye out for my monthly newsletter, The Curious Scout. It’s free, and you’ll get both in your inbox. (September’s is delayed due to the loss in my family.)
And if you’d like to fuel the work, you can always buy me a digital Java Express frappé as I trek through the Tri-County, pop into government offices, and connect with residents while chasing stories.
Diara J. | $CuriousScout