You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.™
Getting laughed off the street at a triple homicide.
I showed up today at a triple murder, by myself, by my lonesome, just me myself and I.
In the industry of fools we call this maneuver a one man band.
That means you are the reporter, the camera man, the assignment editor, the producer the acting news director.
Being a one man band is ok when you are covering a fluff story about pink lemonade or muffy the dog who wears mittens.
Being a one man band is a joke when you are covering a hard news, all up in your face triple homicide.
I had a doctor’s appointment today and got in late. I looked on the board and my name was hanging next to this story like it was an after thought.
“Can i have a photographer?” I asked the desk.
“I don’t have one to give you,” was the quick reply back like I was wasting his time.
I never said another word to another soul in that news room. Nor did anyone say a word to me. In a business of communication, today was an abortion.
15 minutes later, I find myself at the crime infested street, layered in crime tape and CSI vans and squad cars and perplexed neighbors.
The story is simple. A 28 year old woman comes home and finds her sister and her two parents dead.
Who did it? What’s the motive?
Police won’t say. All we know is that the family was killed and great force was used.
Were they shot?
Cops won’t say.
Were they stabbed?
Need to wait on an autopsy we’re told.
It’s a grisly crime scene and the CSI unit is there almost 36 hours working a house and a back yard shed.
I arrived on scene and the other crews are all ready there.
They almost laugh at my inadequacy.
“You working this by yourself,” A cameraman from another station chuckles.
I nod.
He smirks.
“Lame.”
I look around and quickly see one station with 3 people. 2 stations with traditional 2 man crews. And then there’s me, myself and I.
I am quickly out gunned as photographers begin shooting something at one end of the house, while reporters begins scarffing up information at the other.
I am torn. Do I gather pictures and forgo information. Do I get the information and miss the pictures.
And so it will go on this story all day long.
I do the best I can getting interviews, shooting video, making calls, checking criminal histories. Because I am also the editor I have to get back to the station early. I log the video, I write the script, I edit the story.
And all along the way this story changes. Several times.
The public information officer calls me to report the other stations got a tour of the CSI van at the scene.
“Great,” I say. “I can’t be everywhere all at once.”
“I think I found them on facebook,” another reporter says to me.
“Great. I haven’t had time to look for a picture of them on facebook,” I respond. “Been too busy trying to shoot and edit video.”
All in all it was a crappy assignment. The station did a terrible job assigning this to one man. I did a pedestrian job of telling this story beyond the surface clutter.
Being a one man band meant I couldn’t dig for facts or push the envelope for news that could’ve been exclusive to us.
All in all, it’s what happens when financial decisions affect job performances.
That’s the only reason I can come up with.
Otherwise, why else would you send a one man bad to a triple homicide and make it your lead story at 6pm.
It has to be a financial decision, because real news people wouldn’t stand for it.
You know what’s crazier? The newscast I lead got the best ratings of any newscast on this station all day long. Sometimes the universe is a crazy Mo Fo.
And that is just crazy.™