The other day I came across a comment online that read, "Longview is just a crappy town hiding behind a beautiful lake."
Not long before that, a local real estate agent shared a story with me about someone who was seriously considering buying a home here until a family member from Oregon told them they had "heard too many bad things about Longview."
I also recently spoke with someone from north of here who said, "We don't go to Longview. They have a terrible homeless problem." I asked them one simple question: "When was the last time you had actually been here?"
You may agree with some of those statements, or you may not. But I also have a very different set of conversations almost every week. I meet people who moved here because, after comparing communities across the region, Longview checked every box on their list. I talk with people who grew up here, moved away, and eventually found themselves coming back because they realized this was the kind of place they wanted to raise a family.
People are also reading…
So which version of Longview is the real one?
I'll admit I'm biased. I'm the city manager, and I genuinely love this community. Are we Bend? No. Are we Vancouver? No. Are we Portland? No, and I'm perfectly okay with that. But why do we spend so much time defining ourselves by what we aren't instead of appreciating what we are?
We are a community with beautiful parks, tree-lined neighborhoods, one of the most recognizable lakes in the Pacific Northwest, good jobs, dedicated local businesses, generous citizens, and people who care deeply about one another. We have challenges, absolutely. Every city does. Show me a community that doesn't have homelessness, public safety concerns, infrastructure needs, or difficult decisions to make, and I'll show you a place that doesn't exist. The difference is whether we allow those challenges to become our entire identity.
One of the greatest lessons I've learned over the past year is that what we choose to focus on matters. When tragedy struck our community, I watched neighbors, businesses, first responders, and complete strangers come together behind a simple message: Longview Strong. That spirit didn't suddenly appear because something bad happened. It was already here. The tragedy simply reminded us of who we are.
The truth is, Longview has always been a community that shows up for one another. It's in the volunteers who give their time, the people who support local businesses, the neighbors who help neighbors, and the countless acts of kindness that never make the news. Those stories happen every single day, but they rarely become the narrative.
And maybe that's where the opportunity is.
The story of Longview isn't written by comments on social media or by people whose only impression came from driving through years ago. It's written every day by the people who live here. Every time we talk about our community, we're helping shape how others see it.
If we want the narrative to change, it starts with us. It starts with recognizing what makes this community special, talking about it with pride, and inviting others to experience it for themselves. We don't have to pretend we're perfect. We simply have to stop letting our challenges define us.
So instead of amplifying what's wrong, we start celebrating what's right.
And that story starts with us.

