After nearly two years of service, community effort, and more trash bags than I care to count, the Defenders of the Coast has officially dissolved.

While I’ve already shared the logistics, this follow-up serves as a final editorial to address the underlying reason — the part that doesn’t show up on a profit and loss statement: the human cost of dealing with unrelenting noise.

One recent example — one of hundreds I fielded regularly — crystallized what ultimately became the “conflict of interest” that brought the mission to a close. A local commenter, apparently fueled more by entitlement than facts, claimed the nonprofit was politically motivated from the beginning. When corrected, they doubled down by accusing us of seeking money — implying that somehow, asking for funds was suspicious behavior.

Let me be crystal clear: every nonprofit requires funding. Whether it’s through membership dues, donations, grants or sponsorships, this is how these organizations function. Equipment doesn’t fall from the sky. Trash bags aren’t free. Volunteers deserve, at the very least, coffee and snacks.

Our organization — a legally registered nonprofit — documented every single dollar received and spent. All funds were properly logged, accounted for, and submitted to city, state, and federal agencies in full compliance with applicable laws. No hidden accounts. No backroom deals. Just transparency and a whole lot of elbow grease.

When I started Defenders of the Coast, I made a conscious decision to steer clear of politics, religion or anything divisive. This wasn’t about red or blue, faith or creed — it was about the trash on our roads and beaches, and the people willing to do something about it.

I made myself available at every cleanup event for questions. I ran social media accounts filled with storyboards and recaps to showcase the incredible work of our volunteers. I answered concerns directly and with professionalism.

But for every bag of trash we picked up, it felt like I had to sweep aside two more bags of online nonsense. The conspiracy theories, the accusations, the endless nitpicking — it was a circus. And after a while, the question became: Do I spend my time building up this community, or defending it from those determined to tear it down?

In the end, I chose my peace and sanity over the spectacle. I’m proud of the work we did. I’m proud of those who showed up, rain or shine. And I’m at peace walking away with a clear conscience and the knowledge that we left our town cleaner than we found it.

To the volunteers, the donors, and the supporters who never wavered — thank you. And to those still out there stirring the pot, congratulations. The stage is yours now. I just hope you brought a broom.