It's a bird, it's a plane....

Jackie Cooper's voice echoed in my head this morning.

Many may remember Cooper's role as The Daily Planet Editor Perry White in the Superman movies with Christove Reeve.

Following the dramatic opening and credits to Superman III, we cut to The Daily Planet newsroom.
Perry White: I don't understand you Olsen. A boring banquet and you bring me three thousand boring pictures. Yet Superman saves a man from drowning on 3rd Avenue this morning while you stand there watching the whole thing and you don't even bring me one picture.
Jimmy Olsen: Chief, I didn't have my camera with me.
Perry White: A photographer eats with his camera. A photographer sleeps with his camera.
Lois Lane: I'm glad I'm a writer.


In small town community journalism, there is no luxury of being just a writer.

I've blogged about the need for a journalist to carry a camera at all times, this is one of those blogs. It's also about the advantage of being the "little guy."

On my way to work this morning I saw a metro area TV news station's van. Naturally, I followed, dreading what story they would blow out of proportion leaving me to play clean up with a story in next week's paper.

As we headed north of town, I was becoming even more curious about what story they were chasing. Then I saw the helicopter hovering near the neighboring town that is in our school district. This couldn't be an average accident. It wasn't. There was a school bus in the ditch. The accident happened about an hour earlier.

While everyone else shot video, I whipped out my 5-megapixel cell phone camera. The distance from the accident and the sun rising in the background left me with nothing but sun bursts and hazy images.

This is the best one I took.

My digital SLR was in the office on my desk. Had I known I was going to a school bus accident, I would have stopped at the office (on the way) to grab the camera. By the time I got to the accident and figured out what was going on, called in to get a web update and evaluated the situation, they were towing the bus out of the ditch. I didn't have time to go to the office and get back with a camera before the bus was gone.

But being this was my backyard, so to speak, I still had some advantages. The police officer director traffic said he didn't know anything to tell the TV news reporter. They were just working traffic, the state highway patrol was in charge of the scene. She walked away discouraged.

Then I approached.

"How are you liking your new digs, Tom?" I asked, knowing the police just moved into a new building.

We chatted about them still getting settled in, yadda, yadda.

"So what time did you get called to this?" I asked.

"I got on at 7 and was immediately sent here, it had just happened," he replied.

We still had no idea about injuries and I knew he wouldn't know.

"How many ambulances were there when you got here?" I asked.

He talked about ambulances from at least three different areas, so I was able to surmise there were enough injuries to warrant at least half a dozen ambulances.

That's all I could get out of him, but it's more than the TV reporter got. I think I had the advantage in knowing the officer by name and being able to come up with chit-chat to lead into some questions that gave me more background on the incident.

Next, a man, looking very casual, in a jacket and ball cap comes walking from the accident to get in a pickup truck. The TV reporter has no idea this is the assistant superintendent in charge of transportation. I however, again have the advantage.

"Morning, Randy, what happened?" I lead off with.

He clearly didn't want to talk to the media. But between her badgering questions he'd rather ignore, I was able to remove the sensationalism out of the impromptu press conference from his pickup truck cab as he is saying he doesn't have time to talk.

"What can we put on our website that parents need to know?"

He then proceeds to tell me that parents have been contacted and what they were told.

The assistant superintendent drove off, but now we've got a handle on injury types (non serious), how many students, what grade level, etc.

The TV reporter at this point is confused about which schools the students may have been going to and the assistant superintendent has left. I, however, have no need to look up this information.

So I don't have any good photos. I was probably the third news organization to report via the web the fact there was a school bus accident. But in the end, I was able to gather enough information in a short amount of time to get something more substantial online before having to wait for the highway patrol to call me back.

So score one for the small town local guys.

Take that back. I just completed this blog and went to grab my cell-phone photo out of my e-mail to put in the blog when I saw an e-mail from the city manager to many people in the community alerting them of the accident. In that e-mail, he posted a link to a TV news station's website.

So much for hometown.

Meatball journalism

Editor's note: I actually wrote this back in May. In the midst of writer's block this morning, I was looking through some of my google documents and found it. I'm not sure if its intended purpose was for THIS blog, but sort of fits this morning so here it is in all its glory:

I just remembered, this is not why I got into journalism.
Sitting in my cluttered office dumbfounded by writer's block with one goal for the morning: Churn out three feature stories about 300 words each that I gathered all the information for yesterday and write a 450-word summary from a meeting last night.
That's when I realized, I am I stuck here dreaming about all the things I could do with journalism, all the things I have done with journalism and barely making progress on Journalism 101 fluff pieces. I think I convinced myself community journalism "is where it's at," so to speak. It is. Community (hyper local) is the future of the journalism/newspaper industry. "Enterprise stories" and "niche publications" are yesterday's buzz phrases. Community journalism has a bit more sustainability than industry fads.

The definition of community journalism is deep and multi-faceted.
Among what I am doing is "intense" community journalism. On my slate to finish writing today: Board of Aldermen meeting coverage, story about a the kindness of strangers, students raising money for Haiti earthquake victims and preview an upcoming community event. On the back burner is a story I've been picking at a little each week. Not the greatest of stories - a look at the issue of dog nuisance, related ordinances and tips for owners and neighbors. Riveting stuff, isn't it? It's a weak reflection of what I prefer to be doing. I like to dig deep into a story. I would rather be working on one or two in-depth stories over the course of a week than being a paragraph factory of a dozen small stories to fill the pages. Wouldn't any journalist?
For a while I convinced myself this is what I want to be doing. It was like telling myself that I'm OK in a bad relationship, even though deep down I know I need to end it.

There are rewards to what I am doing. I'm filling a need in the community. I'm providing quasi-compelling content for local residents to read. There's no complaints there - on the reader's part and my part, for the most part. But this is not why I signed up.
In elementary school I was a big "Encyclopedia Brown" fan. For those unfamiliar with the book series, this child sleuth would solve neighborhood "crimes" or mysteries. Over time I realized he would use common knowledge, but for someone his age it was outstanding to figure these things out. As I grew older I never got into books like "The Hardy Boys" or "Nancy Drew." I cannot stand most cop shows like "Law and Order" or the "CSI" brand shows. I did always enjoy "Dragnet." Point being, I like to unravel a story by finding many facts.
Back on track, what I love doing is digging deep. I like taking a topic that has hazy details, finding as many sources as possible and finding the common denominator that must be the truth. I like to present a list of facts and statements in an entertaining form so the reader can determine what is right and wrong.

But what I am doing, for the most part, is what I equate to the term used on the "M*A*S*H" television series: "meatball surgery." They had to find the best way possible to take care of mass casualties with little resource. I've got to cover as many stories as possible, along with some photos and long-term planning with as little time, staff and equipment as possible. Community journalism, if you're not careful, can become "meatball journalism."

I didn't get into journalism to post opinion poll questions like, "How would you rate your prom experience this year?"

This is one of those days I'm about ready to give up. There are times you get this great adrenaline rush by getting the scoop on a big story or having people contact you about important things. Then there are times when you feel worthless. After nearly two years of cultivating sources, you find something in the nearby metro daily that you should have had in last week's edition. It's not breaking news. It's not big news. It's almost insignificant. It's a little slice of life for this community. That's exactly why I should have had it first. I'm just floored that my sources didn't let me know about it. Sometimes your sources let you know every time someone down the hall from them sneezes. And you try to show your gratitude and follow up on it because you want them to feel that openness when it's time to get what you want. But then they don't share the newsworthy stuff with you and you wonder why you're even here.

I used to dream of days when I would be a crusty, old news man or a retired journalist. Now I dream of days when I "was in the biz."

Updated: OK, I'm not sure what I meant by that last line when I apparently wrote it five months ago, but I decided to leave it in.

The sad thing is, nothing has really changed since I wrote that blog five months ago and for whatever reason never posted it. Today is not too different from that day. I have to make a few phone calls, see some people then hunker down to churn out four stories today..... gotta go now, incoming wounded. (That's the M*A*S*H reference tying the blog back to the lede.)

Sit... Stay... Good Boy.

Forced to sleep on a twin bed at my parent's house for the holidays, I was able to convince my dog to sleep on a couch instead of on the bed with me. Ah, leg room.

We often talk about "training" our sources and readers/listeners/viewers in the news biz. It sounds like we want Fido to do a new trick, or at least be obediant when guests are visiting.

It can be difficult to train sources and readers. Like a dog, it requires patience and persistence. Again, like a dog, it pays off.

You know when you've got that feeling the dog may be getting the command or trick, but it's not quite where you want it to be. That's how I'm starting to feel. After more than a year and a half at this newspapers and I have confidence that some of my sources and readers are on the brink of being "trained."

Yesterday, the city manager called my cell phone at 10 p.m. to tell me about a boil order, thinking I may want to put it on the Web. I did. By 9 a.m. the next morning (less than 12 hours since the post) the story had nearly 150 hits.

Even just six months ago I don't think the city manager would have thought to call my cell phone to tell me something like that. And just six months ago, even if we had the boil order up promptly, I doubt we would have seen 150 hits - especially overnight like that.

It just goes to show what, like a dog, constant reinforcement can do. It goes beyond the teases to the Web in the print product. I tell people all the time that we had that on our Web site, or that we'll get that on the Web soon if it's urgent. As a weekly, the Web becomes a resource to make the newspaper a nearly daily product (just weekdays unless there's breaking news, of course).

You don't have to have a full list of stories everyday on the Web, just one update a day and telling people about it drives traffic over time.

Alright, time to end the blog, I think my dog needs to go outside... where did I put that leash?

Broken news

When light features go bad....
I was writing this blog in my head yesterday afternoon, but the ending was different than I wanted or expected.

At first it was a great small-town journalism day. I was driving around to different things yesterday when I noticed three different produce stands in town with pumpkins and gourdes among other veggies. Well, I thought, this is a story.

The first one was OK, I got some good information, but no dazzling quotes. The sellers were from a town about 40 miles north, but they're here selling every week.

The next one was pretty much the same: from almost an hour away and not much to say.

The third one was jackpot! Everything was locally grown and the seller had great, colorful quotes:
"Once Oct. 1 hits with the cooler weather it's time to decorate the porch and make chili," said the man selling pumpkins, gourdes, tomatoes and a variety of peppers.
"They're just so ugly they're pretty," he said about the gourdes.

It was great. Then he wouldn't give me his name. Just the name of his business run by him and his brother. I have the two brothers' first names, but no last names and I don't know which one he is. Turns out one of them may have been convicted of a couple crimes - but nothing in the past 5 years and no outstanding warrants. So why did he want his name left out?

It's raining today, so I probably won't have luck with going back, but I do plan to go back. I want to convince them to give me names. It may mean the story is lame, but no names and no free publicity. That's how it goes, folks.