There’s something unmistakably magnetic about the way Devin Meier carries himself through the halls of Centralia High School. Maybe it’s his smile—wide, confident, and unrelenting even in the face of challenge. Maybe it’s the way he turns even the most ordinary task into an act of leadership, whether that’s selling candy bars in the front office or lifting up a teammate who’s having a rough day. Or maybe it’s just the unmistakable sense that here is a young man who refuses to settle for being second best.

I first met Devin in the main office. He walked in with a box of candy bars for a fundraiser, and it didn’t take long to see what others have noticed: this kid doesn’t back down. He was making change, working the room, and turning every conversation into an opportunity. The truth is, Devin is always closing—and it’s not about the candy. It’s about the way he approaches life. He looks for possibilities where others see obstacles, and then he smiles and makes it happen.

That determination shows up everywhere. One summer, after losing too many Connect Four games to a coach, Devin didn’t shrug it off. He studied strategies, practiced, and came back determined to win. 

“Second place was not good enough,” the story goes. That same fire is visible in the hallway where he challenges teachers to spur-of-the-moment games of rock-paper-scissors, laughing all the while, but always, always competing.

Beneath the playfulness is something deeper: a commitment to positivity. Devin admits that calculus, especially under the watchful eye of Mrs. Gebke, has been his hardest academic hurdle. Yet his response is simple: stay positive, smile, and show up every day. “Even when it’s hard,” he says, “you just keep your head up and move forward. Not dragging yourself back or dragging others back—that’s what matters.” That mindset has carried him through two AP history courses and now into AP Calculus, where he’s working hard to earn college credit.

And college is most certainly in the plan. Devin dreams of playing basketball at the next level—whether at Kaskaskia, Rend Lake, or another junior college—and pairing that with a business degree, likely in sales. “Wherever people give me the most money,” he laughs, knowing scholarships will be key. His vision is straightforward: earn his associate’s degree, then build toward a bachelor’s in business. Along the way, he wants to keep sharpening the skills he’s already practicing daily—salesmanship, relationship-building, and leadership.

Basketball, though, remains at the center of his identity. Being part of the winningest high school basketball program in the nation isn’t something Devin takes lightly. “It’s such a blessing,” he reflects. “The coaches show up every day with great attitudes, ready to work, no matter what’s happening in their lives. And my teammates are just as committed. That creates a brotherhood and memories you’ll have for a lifetime.”

He doesn’t ignore the sacrifices behind the tradition. Coaches who commute long distances, hours spent scouting opponents after practice, teammates who put jobs and free time aside—Devin sees it all. “The sacrifice some people take for granted is truly special to me,” he says. “They set us up for success, and I want them to know how much that means.”

Centralia basketball isn’t just about winning games. It’s about uniting a community. Devin describes the goosebumps of looking up at nearly full stands, where doctors, mechanics, teachers, and coal miners sit side by side, cheering for the same cause. “They all have that common interest and want to be there,” he says. “It’s truly special.” That bond, he notes, doesn’t break when shots are missed or games are lost. The support is unwavering.

On the court, Devin has also learned the art of leadership—recognizing that not every teammate responds the same way to criticism. “It’s not one size fits all,” he explains. “You’ve got to know the people. Some can take tough words; others need encouragement.” It’s a skill he admits didn’t come easily, but one he’s proud to have grown into. And it’s one he knows will translate far beyond basketball.

For now, though, Devin’s heart is firmly rooted in Centralia. He talks of staying close to family, maybe one day even coaching basketball at his alma mater. “I have all I need here,” he says. “I’m not satisfied yet—I’ve got a lot I still want to do. But maybe one day, I can come back and truly live out for Orphan Nation.”

That sense of unfinished ambition, coupled with gratitude and determination, makes Devin’s story a distinctly Centralia one. He’s smiling through the challenges, closing deals wherever he goes, and carrying forward a tradition of making everyone around him better, and that means the world to his school and his community.