Howdy! Hallo! Hola! Ni Hao! Kamusta! How far? Salam!
My name is Jessica Vallene Stroh (literally translates to God Beholds Valley Straw, that’ll matter later) and I am the founder and editor of the Fort Bend Falcon. I’d like to take a few thousand words to tell you more about myself and why I’m a journalist.
I’ve lived in Katy since 2015 and I’ve watched this place grow, grow, grow. The field across from my neighborhood used to have cows and hot air balloons. Now the concrete goes all the way to and past Fulshear. Did you know we are fast approaching a million people? This is a diverse, vibrant place to live and I am proud to call it home. I love the fact that my cul-de-sac has had families from South Africa, India, Mexico, Venezuela, and Louisiana. Just around the corner are families from far off climes like Scotland, Canada, and California.
I’ve raised three children in the Katy Independent School District. I’m a Beaver (OSU) mom, a Longhorn (UT) mom, and a Tiger (KHS) mom. My step kids, Fiona, Finn and Grady, are my pride and joy and some of most clever, silliest, little limeys you will ever meet. Seriously kids, eat more fruits and vegetables. Then there is Baker, my eight-year-old Black Mouth Cur. He’s got fifteen dog breeds in him and they all have jobs. He trees! He protects! He herds me! He also uses buttons to talk. Wicked smart.
I am the daughter of Captain Lincoln and Tracy Stroh; a distinguished, retired Coast Guard officer and the 2020 Hermann Memorial Katy Volunteer of the Year (let that sink in for a minute, my mom is a badass). I am the oldest of three. My brother Glenn is the Emergency Response Specialist at Murphy Oil, and my sister Allison has the enviable job of Travel Training Coordinator for Retina Consultants of America. The Houston area pulled us all to her after years of being scattered across the country.
Change of Command, Huntington, WV. We called my mom the First Lady of the Ohio River.
Semper Paratus and Semper Fortis
They don’t come more red, white and blue than I do. At last calculation, I moved eight times for Uncle Sam. I grew up deeply proud of my father’s career and our moves felt like adventures more than sacrifice, thanks mostly to my mother’s ability to positively frame our reassignments. Our summers were filled with movers, road trips, and loads of United States history.
I admire and respect the mission of the Coast Guard and the bravery, skill, and dedication it requires from the men and women who serve, rescue, and protect our waterways. Guardians of the sea, typing that makes me tingle. Still. Flyovers make me tingle. The national anthem makes me tingle. I love this country, this land, and her people, and I have always felt a responsibility to do my part in protecting her.
Combo cap cutie, on my first assignment with the Stroh’s, Cambridge, MIT.
First Washington DC tour, mom and I at Jefferson’s feet. Adams > Jefferson, fight me.
Second Washington DC assignment. Bangs and a Bible in hand.
Result of me finding a cow tag on my grandparent’s land, Brashear, TX. Moo.
Naturally, I was a lifeguard. This made my years in college, lifeguarding on Naval Air Station – Corpus Christi feel like a movie. The flyboys and the Coast Guard rescue swimmers swam laps at one of my pools and while the swimmers with their perfectly sculpted bodies were smart enough to keep it professional with their commanding officer’s daughter, the brand-new navy pilots were way too cocky to leave “Wendy Peffercorn” their nickname for me, or “Penny Benjamin” my nickname for me, alone. I brought the sorority girls to the officer’s club on base and el resto es historia. A very fun history.
I began college with aspirations of being a history teacher and an officer’s wife (they tell you to be a teacher or a nurse so you can work anywhere), this all changed when my boyfriend, a cadet at the Air Force Academy (Go Navy!) dumped me and very quickly began dating a congressman’s daughter. Without that pivotal heartbreak and just a smidgeon of unhealthy jealousy, I would not have found my path which has and always will be politics and political news reporting. Thanks Casey!
In the summer of 2008, I went back to the place of my birth, Seattle, and acted as the Communications Coordinator for the King County Republican party. We lost pretty much every race, including that of my personal hero, John McCain (another Navy flyboy). Casey called me election night, his girlfriend’s dad had lost his seat, and he was scared about the direction the country was going in, too much hope and change I suppose. McCain had stood up for Obama with his own supporters, and I was not scared about our nation’s future. I also didn’t have a single care to give about that lost Colorado seat.
A few years later, I was in DC for a third tour, an internship in the office of Senator John Ensign (R-NV). For me the experience was inspiring, pivotal and it also ripped off and stomped on the rose-colored glasses I had been wearing since conception. Six months is all it took for me to witness Washington’s long history of excess and corruption up close and personal. It did however leave me with some really great stories that I can’t wait to share with you.
Many early mornings and late nights in the studio at WNAV.
I left DC wanting to hold it accountable, so I went to broadcasting school and was hired immediately at WNAV 1430 in Annapolis. I loved being a legislative reporter, an anchor and show host in the historic, capital city of Maryland. Election coverage was and still is my favorite kind of reporting.
In my late twenties, I met the wrong man on a cross-country flight (not a pilot!) and began a relationship that destroyed me. I’d move to Texas, to Katy, to my parents and reset my life. My dreams of being a White House correspondent and running for office all fell by the wayside. I did non-profit work for a few years before falling in love with a man and his children.
Fast forward to January 6th, 2021. Until that point, I had made proclamations, I will vote and we will donate but I will not be involved politically. My non-American partner at the time, was obsessed with political news and even though I knew it was damaging my mental health, he did not respect my pleas to decenter the news from our lives. I was comfortable being a stepmom and a dog mom and growing my salvia and petunias. That day changed everything for me.
The capitol building where I led tours, watched history happen in her halls, and literally bumped into my hero, Senator McCain, was under attack. I was sick to my stomach. The fact that someone smeared feces on the walls, the fact that capitol police officers were killed, and the fact that Americans were so divided they would choose violence in the place where we come together to do democracy was life altering.
I’ve been a Republican operative, I’ve been a Democrat operative, and I am once again an independent voter and journalist. I love this country, and if you take issue with me stating credible and multi-sourced reported facts about what happened that day then this is not the news site for you.
That night I hung an American flag on our front door, lit by the Christmas lights still hung around it, and I processed in a way that makes sense to me, music lyrics. The song and the melody came immediately.
It’s a cold day in the USA
My hearts been broken in a brand-new way
All the things, they say, they say
Couldn’t happen in the USA