Not This Time

Post Office branch at Eastchester, High Point

The late comedian, George Carlin, noted on human behavior: the closer a person is to you, the nicer they are. The bubble-headed bleach blonde anchor on TV is an IDIOT!! That guy in the car who just cut you off is an asshole! The person standing next to you in line is a dick.
Well, not this time. We've all been here: you are waiting for someone to vacate a parking spot (in this case, the only available parking spot), your turn signal is on for a weak insurance policy, hoping people who come by looking for the spot you have your eyes on will see that you have been waiting for it before they showed up, and would move along. Not this time. While the person is backing out of the premium, a lady, who looked to be in her fifties came up from the other direction, and put her turn signal on. "HA!" I thought. "You obviously don't see me siting here communicating my next move. Or, you are in a provocative mood. Or both. " When the departing car gave enough room for me to take charge, I did. It was not because I felt mean or selfish, it was because of principal. I was there BEFORE her. And besides, I didn't budget the time for having to troll this little parking lot. Who would?
When I got out of my Ford Windstar, I looked over to see what she ended up doing. You can see what she did with her car. She not only blocked me in, but the two cars to the right. I waited for her to walk over. When she did, I told her what a selfish thing she had just done. She said she was there first. I corrected her and she walked away like, "what are you going to do about it?" Right. What am I going to do about it. I wanted to reach in to her partly opened window and liberate her poodle who commiserated with me about her self-centered owner. I instead snapped a couple of pictures of what some people are capable of doing. Now I didn't care if I was a little late for work. It was worth it to me to see how all this was going to play out. I didn't want to run my errand because I didn't know what else she was willing to do to make herself feel better about what had just happened. I was also sporting a couple of Fox8 logos, so I was confined to civil behavior. For if I was not representing, she would have heard from me, George.

Dirty Laundry

This was my view for what seemed like most of the day. Another day trolling for a story. I've been complaining a bit (yesterday) about how difficult it is to come up with a decent story people might be interested in. Here's another day. For news stories, the last week of December has to be the driest week of the year. It seems most people are away from work either ordering a cold, fruity drink from Diego, the Caribbean bartender, or a hot, Irish drink from Lance, the bartender in the ski chalet. You either have to make something up, or you end up covering somebody's misfortune.So now, instead of doing a story on politicians mock-slicing a colorful ribbon to show off their political negotiating prowess, or doing a story on politicians bickering in the council chambers, or a story on--you get the picture. I don't want to be held responsible for your blindness after you stab out your mind's eye from these horrible descriptions.
So, while the news tree is mostly covered in snow these days, Chad Tucker and I actually had a decent story to flesh out. A guy who got hit by a car a month ago and his mother were willing to talk to us about his ordeal. Problem was, at some point that day, his health went bad to some degree, and he had to be taken back to the hospital by ambulance. We found out this fact at 5pm. At the time we were in Stanleyville, an annexed neighborhood of Winston-Salem. We were then put on another story about someone who was involved in a single car crash and died. This person also happened to be pregnant. (Jeeze, I know!) This had just happened, but it was about an hour south by High Rock Lake. So we blazed another trail.

When we got to the scene--a very dark, two-lane rural road--all we could see was vehicle stains and cat litter on the road. Clearly, this was a desperate attempt to get some more dirty laundry. A single vehicle fatal crash on a two lane rural road does not take long to clean up, and we were an hour away.
Now, we head 45 minutes northeast to get something on a guy who was hit by a car while carrying groceries on I-40. (I know, right? And when it rains, it pours. I also could hear the line in that Don Henley song "get the widow on the set, we need dirty laundry.")
We ended up just getting some video to show how bad the accident had affected traffic, then moved over to Kernersville to do a "quick package" on gas prices. The angle here is that a former oil company executive was quoted as saying something like "everyone should get ready to pay $5 a gallon by the end of next year. Apparently this little factoid is making some drivers so angry, they are weaving off the road striking people and trees. I'm kidding!

So at 9:00 we find a place to go live, Chad starts logging, and I pull cable and set up the shot. Yeah, this shot here, AND the live shot. I start editing at 9:30, feed at 9:50, and ten minutes later do that TV thing we do.
"I make my living on the evening news. Just give me something, something I can use..."

As the reporter said, "Weather stories suck when there's no weather." Now, despite the photo (by Mike Taylor) showing plenty of weather, she made that comment a couple of hours into the search for the story. It was the first weekday after the biggest snowfall the area has seen, and the housecats thought Katie Nordeen and I could turn another two-story, two live shots for the day. It would have been the third time within two weeks. Two angles on a day of bad weather. This time they wanted one on road conditions and how the city of Greensboro was handling them, and the second one was to be on what does a homeowner do when their 80 foot trees are supporting the heft of wet snow. But it was not to be today. Why? The interstates, state roads, and primary roads in the county were dry from some outstanding work by the NCDOT and the city of Greensboro, and all that was left was some residential streets. But for the most part, they were very driveable. And the tree story? After driving around several Greensboro neighborhoods, the best we could find were a few branches that had snapped and fallen into yards, damaging nothing. It looked a lot like the photo above. We could barely find any people outside.  Fortunately we have a smart guy at the helm in Kevin Daniels, fresh off a vacation in the Carribbean. We told him how the original story ideas were melting away, and he made the right call. The decision? Cut the tree story, change the road story into a VOSOT, and the reporter package is now about the people at the Piedmont Triad International airport who have been inconvenienced by the snow.

The best part of that is that the story was already shot by colleague, Stewart Pittman, who also was just off a Christmas break, but not as fresh off his vacation as Kevin Daniels. Stewart was called in to do on-camera live shots for the morning show on three hours of sleep. Poor guy. I can only imagine the dizzying stupor he must have been in gathering that stuff. Nevertheless, we got the producers what they needed, and we felt better for not having to slam so much together, and surely Stewart felt better going home well before he expected.

A Taste of Home

I grew up in Minneapolis and St. Paul, and 21 times I rode the earth around the sun from up there. And while tilted away from our star, the climate was mean. Temperatures that would make you shatter like a poorly hung glass Christmas ornament if you got struck by the door getting on the transit bus. When you are annually surrounded by that kind of atmosphere, you not only get used to it, but you can actually enjoy it. At least the snow anyway. It is a way of life after all. Most Winter games and other activities were created in the North Star State. After living in the South the last 16 years, I have been spoiled when it comes to Winters. In my former life, sub-zero temperatures were expected, and, while cursed at, they were dealt with.

Here, we don't get that. The coldest it seems to get is in the single digits--with the harshest winds slapping you in the face. What we also don't get down here is a decent snowfall. Even the heartiest Minnesotan would call a four-inch snowfall decent. And while most Minnesotans know how to navigate through their version of Winter, many North Carolinians do not. You could say "can you blame them? Most have little to no experience driving on snow and ice-slicked roads." That may be the case, but I think a lot of drivers either don't have common sense, or don't use it when it comes to navigating a ton and a half of steel over a slick roadway. Most of what I've seen has occurred on the state highways and interstates. I can't say how people behave on the narrower roads with lower speed limits, as I haven't really been on those roads. But, while driving the roads that have speed limits of 55 and above, I've seen many drivers traveling over the posted speed limit--some as much as ten mph over! These people have no imagination. Other things I've seen that grind my gears is people who drive in this kind of weather when it is approaching dusk and they don't have any lights on, nor do they use any turn signals when changing lanes, and they tailgate. People like that will drive that way until they are involved in a crash, and maybe then they will change their behaviors to more safer ones.
Good thing North Carolina doesn't see Minnesota weather very often. Or is it?

Living The Dream

In coming up with a name for this blog post, I thought "As Good As It Gets?"might be appropriate, but I thought that was too pessimistic. "Living The Dream" is more fitting as it has been a dream of mine to perform music for people for a long time.

This Fourth of July I played percussion with the Greensboro Concert Band at Grimsley High School in which we played for more than two hours, including music to accompany a wonderful fireworks show. During this performance, I was thinking about what it was I was doing, how the person I most admire is doing the same thing, although on a different level, and the feelings those thoughts gave me.

Since it's release in January, 1976, Peter Frampton's best-selling album, (and the best-selling album of the year) "Frampton Comes Alive" was the catalyst in getting my dream started. When I heard that live album--especially the track, "Do You Feel Like We Do", I was hooked. Not only did I love the band's ability to rock, but they way the band connected to the audience was electric and powerfully magical for me. Every time I listened to that track, I would pick up more details of the performance and want to be on that stage with the band. Specifically, I wanted to be the drummer, keeping the steady pulse for the rest of the band to color the performance.

Through the years, I kept alive that drive to perform, but Frampton would not be the guide. A few years later, in 1980, I was listening to the radio (as I did a lot.) I heard "Tom Sawyer" by Rush, and was hooked on a new band. Peter Frampton and his band gave me the spark, but it would be drummer and lyricist, Neil Peart (pronounced, Peert), and his band who would guide me from that point on.

Everyone has someone they greatly admire, and may even like to live vicariously through. Neil Peart is that person for me. In the late 1990's, when he made an instructional drum video, he addressed those who wish to live in the limelight as a rock star, saying not to try and shoot right for the top, rather, begin by performing at the local level. I thought that was good, and if I got good enough, and got the courage to believe I could make a living at it, it would eventually work.

I have been performing at the local level since I heard Frampton's live performance and was moved to play the drums. I have performed with concert bands, orchestras, and jazz groups for the last 33 years, and I am having a blast. Ever since hearing "Do You Feel Like We Do", I have wanted to be on stage playing the drums, and entertaining the audience. Since I lacked the confidence of having the ability, and the courage to save enough money, go out, buy a set of drums, and become good enough to be in a rock band, I settled for performing at the local level, with music that has more wide appeal than my taste in rock music.

So during the performance of the fourth of July celebration, I thought about how I had set up all these percussion instruments, played them, and was getting a charge out of it, I also thought about how wonderful it was to have my idol doing the same thing at his level. He is currently on tour with his band. Still doing what they love for more than 36 years! Those warm feelings gave me a charge to make sure I was playing my best and to get the greatest satisfaction out of doing it. It didn't matter to me that I wasn't in a rock band, I was living the dream.

A Blustery Blurr

We'll see what tomorrow brings. Yeah, right. Thank you sir, may I have another!?

I knew there would be a lot of wind, but I didn't expect so much to happen. All weather outlets told us the wind  would knock over trees that had been weakened by all the water that has fallen thus far. What we got was a lot more. This pine tree fell in Lucille Piggott's Greensboro backyard, but it did not hit her house! A couple of small Dogwoods, a Pink Azalea, and her gas grill got taken out. Lucky Lucille.

This steeple on Centenary Methodist Church in Greensboro got pushed over, but didn't come down.

The sign at the Downtown Greensboro Hardee's took a hit too.

I also spent time at the PTI airport where many flights in and out of GSO were cancelled.

This sign, one of many hanging along the road outside the airport terminal advertising an upcoming skating competition got slashed by the sheer of the winds.

On my way back to the station I saw this set of traffic lights swinging in the wind at Hwy 68 and Thorndike Road. Some drivers were not sure how to handle that. A dangerous situation on a major intersection.

Then it was off to Guilford College for some basketball. The #1 3A school last year hosted the Mennonite Royals. The only team that can beat the Quakers. And tonight they did it again in a big way, by about 30 points.

So, yet another action-packed swing shift is over. I'm exhausted. For the first five hours of my shift I did not stop. I had a break for refueling me and my news assault vehicle, then it was on again.

Spin the Wheel

Tuesdays and Wednesdays my shift is called "Swing Photographer". The term is supposed to mean instead of a morning, day or night shift, you come in an hour before the night shift, and leave an hour early. Also, you never know what kind of day you will have,what kind of variety of stories you will do, or who you will meet. That pretty much goes for any other day in which I team up with a reporter. But on those days, while you still don't know what you'll do, where you'll go, or who you'll meet, you will generally end up doing one story for the day. On "swing" days, you do multiple stories.
Tuesdays and Wednesdays my shift is called "Swing Photographer". The term is supposed to mean instead of a morning, day or night shift, you come in an hour before the night shift, and leave an hour early. Also, you never know what kind of day you will have,what kind of variety of stories you will do, or who you will meet. That pretty much goes for any other day in which I team up with a reporter. But on those days, while you still don't know what you'll do, where you'll go, or who you'll meet, you will generally end up doing one story for the day. On "swing" days, you do multiple stories.
Today, I had five stories, and what a variety. It began with shooting a story with Cindy Farmer about how you can get fit at home using some things you may already have, like stairs or a weight like Cindy's using here. This story involved minimal set up on my part. I go in with Cindy, put a wireless mic on Mark, the fitness trainer, and off we go. No special lighting, not even the tripod I brought in. I just needed to find creative ways to shoot the thing. This story will air in a few days.
After I got back to the station, it was on to something completely different: they needed some exterior shots of the Allen Jay School on Allen Jay Road, next to Allen Jay conveniece store. Mr. Jay was a Quaker minister, an evangelist, and an outstanding educator, according to the school's web site. But, as it is, the Guilford School District has other plans for the mothballed building. So it was, about a minute's worth of shots, and about 20 seconds of air time.
I brought that back to the station so it could run in the 6pm show. Then it was off to Davidson County for two things: a pot hole and a commissioners meeting. WOO-HOO! Can you feel the sarcasm? This whole pot hole patrol is a community service franchise, but being early in the game, it needs some tweaking. We have people call or email us to let us know where there are any alignment shifting craters in the road. The details are, as we like to say, sketchy. For example, the one I was in search of was to be found on Swicegood Road near Hwy 150. Keep in mind I'm searching after 6pm and in the rain. You think it would be as easy as driving on the road and you'd run over it. Well every pot hole I've seen isn't much of a hole. My standard has been set in my home state of Minnesota, where the pot holes can swallow compact cars. So running over a pot hole in North Carolina barely registered. Before I found the offending cavity, I noticed the Northbound lane had all the flaws, the other side looked as if no one had driven South since Winter began. I figured this hub cap sized divot had to be the star as it was the only one of dozens that didn't have any of that gooey asphalt filling. You know, the kind that resembles Rice Krispy marshmallow treat batter. Since Swicegood Road is one of those rural two lane things, there was no place to park except someone's driveway. So I backed into one that opened straight to my target. My headlights were spotting my subject just right, and fortunately every time I set up a shot, a Northbound car would come by and hit the hole. That made for a quick exit out of that driveway.
Then it was on to Lexington proper where the Davidson County Commissioners were meeting. I would be there to find out what kind of carrot the board was to dangle in front of an anonymous company that was looking to expand. The economic development board spokesman told the board how valuable it would be to have this company in their county. The extra income and jobs it would create. Only one person spoke up during public expression, and what he said was so full of numbers and inside information, that he may have been the only person to understand what he was saying. He was the board watchdog. Every board has one.
I got back to the station with the last two items around 8:15 and opened up my lunchbox to have dinner. Shortly after that, I was called out to see what I could get on a fatal accident that happened on I-40 near Winston-Salem. In the photo, a State Highway Patrolman inspects under the hood of the truck involved. It is policy after an accident to give the vehicle a physical and inspect the driver's log book to see when and how often he drives. The accident happened an hour earlier, but sometimes these things take awhile to clean up. It was at the junction of I-40 and Highway 311. Somehow an 18-wheeler struck and killed a pedestrian. Seems like an unlikely place for a pedestrian, but since the investigating State Trooper was in the process of informing the victim's family, I could not get any other information about the accident. And, for the record, while I'm in the business of trying to be the first to report something, I do not ever want to be the first person to broadcast to a victim's family that one of their own has been killed.

Quite a mixed bag of stories. We'll see what tomorrow brings as I "swing" again.

Fire and Ice

It's not often we do a story in an area in which you feel your life is in danger. The most common for me has been on coastal North Carolina during hurricanes. The previous scare was last year covering a shooting in a New Bern, NC project neighborhood--at night. Last night was different. All day the Piedmont received a coating of ice and snow. And the day before, Sheeka Strickland and I did a story with John Carter, a tree specialist who told us it would be the pine trees that would succumb first to the weight of the wintry mix. He was right. And there are a lot of pine trees in Rockingham county. All along Highway 65, 704, Ellisboro Road and Ayersville Road fresh firewood, softened by many days of precipitation, began falling; many of them blocking those roads. The roads are those two lane ribbons of asphalt that snake their way through rural North Carolina, and are dangerous enough with speeding 18-wheelers steered by sleep-deprived captains. Now you feel like you're running a gauntlet of leaning trees, just waiting for a cold push by old man winter to weed out the weak among them. Their icy claws posed over you as if you're driving through the arctic version of a haunted house. 

Once you step out of the news assault vehicle to get some shots of the trees that didn't make it, you hear crackling of a conifer's canopy, it's limbs, or the whole trunk. And now let's add a sizzling thrill: sometimes, the thing pulls down power lines. We found one that was smoking, and one that had become a fire. I got the shots I needed, and sparked a hasty retreat back down the road. Then, we drive back through the gauntlet, Sheeka at the wheel, and me in the passenger seat, getting footage of the ice claws and downed trees. Suddenly, a pack of deer cross the road in front of us. What a cool and serendipitous encounter. That shot made it into one of two stories we produced for the evening newscast.

We shared high fives at the end of that night because of the great visuals for the stories, and we cheated death, yet again.

Story 1

Story 2

A New Leash on Life, etc...

Today began with a life-saving story, and ended with perhaps a life-ending story. And it was the story I did in the middle that prompted me to say to the people there:"I can't believe I get paid to do this." An exaggeration, of course, but still, I felt the joy of doing "good news." And it's rare on my night shift to be able to do "good news."
My first story of the day was Moses Cone health system donating 19 defibrillators to several local municipalities. Great idea. Heart attacks are the #1 killer in the U.S., and if you have one outside a hospital, you have a 95% chance of not making it. Unless there's an AED (defibrillator)nearby. Any municipality that has some of these things also makes them less of a liability. These will go in malls, parks, and golf courses in our area.

The next story was about Susie, the 8 month old pitt bull/shepherd puppy who was found in a Greensboro park last August with 2nd and 3rd degree burns, a broken jaw, and whose ears had been burned off. She was barely alive. Maggots had set up camp on her. After a long process, Donna Lawrence became the new owner.

Trained by Bob Wall and his wife, Susie behaves like a normal puppy her age, and, other than her ears still missing, her wounds have healed very well. About a year ago, Donna was viciously attacked by a pitt bull. She didn't know how or if she'd survive the attack. She told a group of about 24 children tonight at a High Point church, that it was her faith in God and her christian tenet of forgiveness that got her out of the nasty event, and helped her come to terms with the dog's owner. An animal lover, she later adopted Susie, a pitt bull mix, to overcome her fear of dogs, and she's done very well. She used her struggle for courage to hopefully set a warm, furry, and tangible example of how they too can overcome their fear of the boogeyman, having to eat broccoli, or make a friend. Donna said she'd like to bring Susie into hospitals and burn centers as therapy for patients. What a great story.


No sooner did I put the finishing touches on the previous story, I got a call from the desk telling me to head to Winston-Salem as there was a shooting. I tapped the address into my GPS, and headed out. The scene took place in a familiar setting, yet I'd never been there. After 16 years of gathering crime scenes, you see a pattern. Low income neighborhood, small homes that sit close together, police cars & crime tape. But this time, even though there were half a dozen police cars on the scene parked in random fashion, there were no flashing blue lights, and no on-lookers. Only a few people gathered at the front of their home in case the police needed them. The shooting happened in front of their house. I asked one officer if she could find someone to let me know whatever they can tell me. I know when you've been on the scene of breaking news, you can't expect someone to know enough about what's going on to go tell the media. Usually the person who can do it, or is supposed to do it isn't there. But when you are less than a half hour from air time, you only want a few questions answered. We're not looking for a formal on-camera interview.
I got the video I needed, and headed to our bureau downtown. I cut it, sent it over the microwave feed, and a few minutes later I watched it as it went over the airwaves. I got a lot of video, but we got very little information other than what, where, and when it happened. The who will come later, and the why may never be known. We just know that somebody was shot and sent to the hospital. I wonder if it was the person who tried to kill Susie. 

Out of the Comfort Zone

Heroes, man. That's what I'd call these two medical professionals. They are living up to the Hippocratic oath they took when they agreed to take on their medical calling. Even if they are put in harm's way, they are called to help their fellow human beings. No matter where in the world it may take them.

Reporter Sheeka Strickland and I met Physician's Assistant John Williams at the hospital first and sat down to talk about the adventure on which he was about to embark. He's a very kind and soft-spoken man--well suited for his vocation. He had his Toyota 4-Runner packed with medical supplies, ready to take the cargo and his determined self to the airport. There, he will join his partner, orthopedic surgeon Dr. Bill Ward on a private jet to the well-shaken island. They expect to stay 11 days. But they are prepared to stay longer, if needed.

When we interviewed Dr. Ward a short time later, he said that while he is a specialist, he will do whatever is needed, and what his skills and knowledge will allow. But he hopes he won't have to step out of his comfort zone. Most of us don't like to leave the warm familiarity of our little zone of comfort. It takes a great deal of courage to do something so bold. Listen to what he says at the end of the story. If you ask me, he'll really feel vexed when he steps out of that plane. But one is never too old to be challenged and learn.

I greatly admire these two men, and it was a privilege to have crossed paths with them. I wish them both well.

Bold Missions

Today was quite busy for newsgathering. We are all in the process of hunting and gathering for our big civil rights anniversary special that will air on Feb. 1. There is a LOT of time spent making calls, interviewing people, writing, and editing going on all while we march on with gathering not only the news of the day, but several franchise stories--you know, the Pay It Forwards, the Fox on Your Sides, the Made in NC, etc.
Today, Sheeka Strickland and I interviewed Pat Patterson, a man who was arrested for his part in bringing about social and civic change to civil rights in 1960s Greensboro. What a treat it has been to be in the presence of people like Mr. Patterson who summoned great courage at a young age to do something they knew would be VERY unpopular. A bold mission to say the least.

We also were invited into the home of a young man named Justin Hoyle who is a crime victim. Yesterday someone, or some people broke into his house and stole 2 TVs, a Sony Playstation, and a laptop. It is the laptop that has Justin on a mission. See, his brother Jason was an avid graphic designer, and specialized in NASCAR-type graphics. Last year, Jason died of cancer. After that, it bacame Justin's goal in life to follow after his brother in designing graphics. Now, everything that represented his brother's creativity is gone. He said he has made it his life's mission to find the laptop and finish what he started.

That story provided some very creative opportunities for me as a photojournalist and an editor. As I looked around the room we were in, I noticed several things that would make for good visual story-telling, like a sign above the living room that read in bold lettering: "FAITH-DREAM-HOPE"

Words by which to live. Thank you Justin for that, and I hope you find what you are looking for on your very bold mission.

As a photojournalist who gathers the news of the day, I have come across just about every kind of story, and every kind of person you can imagine. As a photojournalist who works in TV news, it is incumbent and intrinsic that I capture and broadcast the human emotions that accompany them. Unfortunately, most of the time the story I gather does not register very noticeably on the emotional richter scale. Those stories mostly serve to educate the viewer. Conversely, when the story is a natural disaster, a fire, a shooting, or a fatal car wreck, then we're dealing with the most difficult kind to witness, let alone document.

Recently, however, I have had the great fortune to document a relatively new franchise to WGHP. We call it "Pay it Forward". As the title suggests, someone benefits from someone else's act. With the financial help from a sponsor, our station solicits people to recommend someone in the community, who is unrelated to them, who has fallen on hard times, yet carries on through life, giving as if nothing is wrong on the home front. The station gives the nominator $400 in cash, and, with our cameras in tow, they give it to their surprised nominee. Of course the plug is pulled on the emotional dike as the receiver realizes they've just been given $400 in cash to keep. Usually, as one would expect, the person receiving the money will begin to cry and need to hug the giver. And usually it doesn't hit me that hard. For some reason when a young lady named Elizabeth Brannock realized she was the recipient, and began to break down, it hit me hard enough to break me. And I love it when a story can do that. You could see a relief valve open, if just slightly, to release some of the stress that pain and suffering from a person's situations can bring. I didn't feel that strong emotion at the time I captured it on disc that day, but when you sequester yourself in the editing room, and you put that moment into the context of the story you are crafting, you realize the power of our profession, and it is powerful.

I couldn't choose a more satisfying vocation.