The Ventura County Star announced a big move for me Thursday.

In case you missed it, I am moving on.

In a few weeks, I will no longer be publisher of The Star. I will be an assistant to the president of Scripps Howard Publishing part of the time. And in the rest of the time, I will be starting a new business in Ventura County in which I consult with companies that I can help in the areas of management, media and communication.

Since the move was announced, a lot of people are asking me what's gotten into me. Why leave the comfort and stability of a company where I have worked for nearly 30 years to go out and take a risk on something new?

And my answer is: I am my parents' son.

They were risk-takers, not afraid to leave comfortable surroundings for a chance to do something different.

I did not always see it this way. So I understand why some people think I have lost some marbles. I thought my parents were crazy, too.

Nearly three years ago when my dad died, the priest in his parish asked me to reflect on his life and think about him in a new way. See him in a different light, he asked.

It took a few weeks after his death, but the light bulb came on.

When I was 16, my parents moved our family from Brooklyn, N.Y., to a windy, dusty cow town called Albuquerque, N.M. I thought they were just about the stupidest parents a 16-year-old could be cursed with. And through a series of facial gestures, behaviors and language, I let them know it. (And Albuquerque turned out to be a perfectly fine place.)

It took my father's death and the priest's request before I realized the wisdom of their move. Through their actions, they were telling me that life is all about taking some risks for a chance at a better life. They were safe in New York. Their families had lived there for 120 years. But they saw a chance to have something more in their lives and they took it.

People who take some risks sometimes fall flat on their faces. But those same people often achieve the greatest rewards. I am fond of the saying, "I would rather be a lion for a day than a sheep for my whole life."

When I can stomach it, I like to stand at the front of a boat. Sure, I get wet, but the view is so much better than it is in the back.

The newspaper business certainly contains its share of risk in the next few years. These past eight months have been the most turbulent of times I have seen.

Turmoil, however, creates opportunity. Without spewing any platitudes, I am confident in the ability of the people who will run The Star, and those who run E.W. Scripps, the parent company, to navigate through the tumult.

The Star's stock-in-trade is local news and advertising. Believe me, the 380 people who work here are focused like a laser beam on those issues. We study the best ways to deliver those products with the greatest quality at a reasonable price. They will stay true to that task and come through the current economic crisis. The Star will emerge probably a little smaller, but stronger. This company will live longer than I will.

I am avoiding a discussion of my new business because I don't think it's appropriate for me to shill in this space. I am excited about it. I guess I knew I was headed for something different a few years ago when I realized I was beginning each day with the business sections of the four newspapers I read.

Gradually, my life's interest had taken me toward a fascination with how people got their ideas to start a business, how they were running the business and what made them successful.

I'm just brazen enough to think I can do the same by starting a business that helps them grow theirs. Cockiness runs in Irishmen.

So, this son of a couple of risk-takers will be off down a new path soon. I'll miss this job and the privilege of serving all of you, along with this marvelous staff. It's just time for me to take a deep breath and take a plunge. I'll see you down the road.

— Tim Gallagher is publisher of The Star. E-mail him at tgallagher@VenturaCountyStar.com.