You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
The morning text message.
I text every morning. For more than a decade, every single day, I text. Every single solitary day, I send out dozens of text messages to 50, 75, maybe 100 or more news contacts.
Cops, deputies, city leaders.
I instant message chiefs, and sheriff’s and federal agents.
If you have a phone and you live within driving distance, chances are I bother your ass every morning.
I send out exclusive invites to share. I politely ask for news and in return, perhaps, will tell a good story about their department, their city, or something they feel needs my tender loving care.
Each and every day, I uniquely craft a message of simplicity, to just let them know that our connection is strong.
I want to hit them in the mind every single day, remind them, that I exist for a purpose, to uncover, to expose, to break news, and I cannot do it without them.
I text and text and text. I want these men and women of the morning to feel our connection, to know that these texts are crucial to a news gathering machine that is well oiled and prepared to unleash the hounds of journalistic hell.
Every day a text. Every day a call.
As Tom Cruise once said, There is no substitute.
Text and say hello. Text and ask for news. That way they know I am out there, hunting for news, looking for something juicy to wet my journalistic palate.
I usually send a message that is simple like: Rainy Monday. What’s Up?
Or Pollen filled Tuesday? Could I sneeze any more. What the heck is going on?
Happy Hump Day. Whatcha Got?
If they laugh, so much the better. Everyone needs to laugh. Especially news makers. News is a four letter word that knows no kindness and insults basic decency without warning, without a knock.
I send the text to each person, rather than a group email. I want my news sources, who routinely demand anonymity, to feel safe. A text is public, but it can also be sent in a way that feels like the conversation between us is discreet and meaningful.
Most mornings the return tweet is “nothing up” or Quiet usually misspelled “Quite” If I have learned anything, deputies in small counties cannot spell.
But every so often a text is returned that brings optimism to my news soul. It can be a lead or a tip. A crime committed? Something about to go down? Sometimes it’s a flat out home run that will change the course of a news day for every single person in the market.
This morning, a source who often doesn’t return my texts sends me this: “6 month old child burned. At hospital.”
The fact that he texted me makes me think that an investigation is heating up. You have to know your people. This guy doesn’t waste time on texts of unimportance. I immediately suspect that there is an investigation into child abuse which usually means other things are in play, like parents being arrested, and children’s services mobilizing.
This text has potential. It’s a sad story but it could be a good lead. I will call this source. He tells me that it’s too early to tell if the baby burned itself on a heater, or if there is neglect on the part of the parents.
I can wait.
I have waited many many times.
When you wait, when you show restraint, news makers are more impressed. When news makers are more impressed, they will share more information.
A text can build trust.
The text is one of many avenues for soliciting leads. I prefer a phone call. I like to laugh and burn a little time with these sources. But there isn’t always time in this stupid world of social media and smart phones. Many times a source will text, but won’t pick up the phone. Some new millennium cops are like high school girls with a short attention span.
The text is an easy way to communicate. Sometimes a quick “what’s up?” followed by a quick “Nothing” is all anyone has time for.
Sad and demented. That too is news gathering in a world so interconnected, news in Nashville can generate commentary in Beijing.
I’ve been a reporter since the beginning. I have learned that cops are simple creatures. They want to catch bad guys and solve cases and they love lunch and news hats.
Cops love free stuff. Walk into a detective’s office and I guarantee you’ll see news hats and coffee mugs from the local affiliates on their shelf.
“Why don’t you buy me lunch?” one cop will say.
“Channel whatever gave us a hat with a helicopter on it, why none from you?”
“Maybe because we don’t have a helicopter, numb nuts”
Laughter is better than a god dammed hat any day.
Communication. b.s. Banter. Keeping the news relationship fresh. Like any relationship, it’s the lubricant that keeps the news engine running smoothly.
I text so much, call so much, sometimes I think I’m wearing my sources out.
A text every morning at 7:30 am.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” some will text back.
I’ve had sources stop returning my texts. That pisses me off. Like a bad relationship, I stop texting them too.
“Screw you. We’ll see how you like that news maker”
Then, out of the blue, I’ll get a text from that source “Hey where ya been?”
That’s when I realize, they don’t look at this as an imposition. They like it. They like being part of my nefarious, clandestine network of news hunter-gatherers.
And suddenly like any high school love affair, the text-a-thon is back on.
But most of my lawmen are prehistoric. They are all thumbs and forefingers. Not so good for texting. Great for squeezing the trigger on a 9 mm, and blowing center mass, however.
Do they like the art of texting? I would say mostly yes.
I once texted a sheriff and said hello, what’s up.
5 minutes later, he called me back and put another sheriff on the phone. Turns out they were at a sheriff’s convention and he was bragging that I text him.
That made me smile. It made me think that the top law man in the county enjoyed getting his morning wake up call and he wanted his fellow badge brothers to know it.
I once had a public information officer tell me she asked for a show of hands “how many people get a text from him every morning.”
There was an uneasiness at first. Then a few hands went up. Then a few more. Then the entire room had a hand in the air.
Everyone started laughing as they looked around at my network of law enforcement hunter gatherers.
The Public Information Officer laughed out loud. “OK, now that I got that out of the way.”
I’m not even sure why she did that, but I always thought it was cool.
I try and keep the morning texts brief but interesting.
If you are going to bother someone at 7:30 am, you want them to enjoy it, right.
I’ve sent out obscure texts like; Cat Dander Alert High. What’s happening on a Tuesday?
I’ve sent out texts with a news hook to keep it informative. “Black Box of flight 370 still missing. What’s Up there?”
I’m old school. I can use technology, but it honestly doesn’t appeal to me.
I am happy when I push the power button and whatever it is works.
Gigabytes? Terabytes? Who gives a F***?
I think many of my old school hunter gatherers feel the same.
That’s why i shoot them a quick morning text.
News aint’ exactly brain surgery.
I tell new reporters, you can have all the technology in the world, but one well placed source is worth his or her weight in gold.
It doesn’t matter if they text you, email you, phone you, or send you a cryptic note chipped in stone. The key is to get the information and run with it.
For me it starts with a single text message every morning.
“Rainy Monday’s Suck. What’s Up?”
5 well placed words can lead you places you would never imagine.
The morning text.
Life’s Crazy™