Playing Favorites

When a favorite teacher retires it can leave a gaping hole in the community. On our community a feisty campaign to get me to write a story about one such teacher began. They called me and emailed, sent us pictures. Finally I agreed to do a story. Mrs. S raised the bar for 3rd and 4th grade kids for 20 years. She loved her students and it shows. Ask any graduate who had her when they were in elementary school. It is almost certain they will list her as a favorite teacher. I talked to several of her former students and they all raved about her. One rainy day last week I went to year round school. It was nice to see kids in school after so much summer. I really can't wait for school to start up again. Wednesday was Mrs. S's second to the last day of school. When I arrived the children were finishing up a snack. Mrs. S introduced me and we sat down to chat. Mrs. S is one of those teachers. One year she let the children decide if they wanted to buy rent or sell their desks. They earn "money" for good behavior and garner fees for bad behavior. The children have had small businesses. They have hired and fired their employees. One year one kid disputed his firing and he hired another kid to represent him as his attorney and sue his "boss." This year the students were working toward a book auction and the opportunity to bid on the classroom stuffed animal, Stripy. Some had the money and others did not. "What did the children learn from the assignment?" I asked. "Why don't we ask them?" she said. Mrs. S turned to the students. She introduced me and then asked the children what they learned from the money experiment. They talked about hard work and seeing their efforts pay off. They talked about making mistakes, consequences and learning from those mistakes. They talked about setting goals and being successful. Mrs. S turned to me with tears in her eyes. "I guess I've done my job," she said. "You guys are ready to move on." That's one of many stories you find when you talk to people about their favorite teacher and visit that teacher's classroom. Then there is the unexpected gems. When I asked Mrs. S what her favorite lessons are she politely declined to say, citing the personal lives of her students. Fortunately I had the name and number of one of those students. I just didn't know it yet. When I called I talked to mom. Her son had Mrs. S in 3rd grade. During the course of the conversation she revealed that her husband died unexpectedly when her son was in Mrs. S's class. The night before the funeral there was a school choir concert scheduled. Mrs. S insisted that the boy participate. She picked him up and took him out to dinner with his class. They dedicated the concert to the his father's memory.

"It really cheered me up," he told me.

Incredible.

Out in the hallway away from the curious ears of the children, I asked her the standard question that I ask most retiring teacher.

"What's next for you?"

She checked the door to make sure it was closed.

"I'm going to smoke, drink, learn to speak French and play piano!" We laughed till our bellies hurt.

Then she asked if I would come in and talk to the kids about being a reporter. Everything is a teachable moment. I explained above the fold and below the fold. I explained leads and pegs. And yes, the comics pages are great.

The editor said it was good story, but a long one.

As usual.

TARB

Good Feedback

A little praise goes a long way. One of my editors will give us a little praise and that's awfully nice when it happens. My other editor never gives praise. Never. While we don't really need to be praised, it's nice to have a little feedback.

I got some great feedback from a reader today.

I love making a hum-drum story interesting with unique details. When I was an intern at a daily waaaaaay back when, I remember some of the reading materials I was instructed to read focused on details. Instead of saying a blood trail led away from the scene of the murder, a reporter wrote about drops of blood about the size of a nickle. For some reason I remembered that focus on detail and I use it in my own writing.

My details are the more about the things people say and how they say them. I note when and where people pause, laugh, sigh, sound dejected or elated. People who are used to being interviewed know what to say and when. I also take note of the things people say when they don't think they are being observed. It's not necessarily off the record, its more like out of the scope of the normal conversation.

A couple of months ago the Knights of Columbus presented a check to the special education department at a local school. Hum-drum, right?

We'll there happened to be a lot of peripheral things going on. We took photos with three of the kids, the director of the program inspected the check, we chatted in her office with the Knights of Columbus guy.

The check presentation was one thing. What made the story was the conversation surrounding that event. After walking away from the photo shoot the director mumbled, "I love those kids." When she put on her glasses to read the check she said, "Whoa! We did really good this year!"

I added those details and others to the story. It wasn't really about the presentation of a check. It was about the loving administrator and the kids she works so hard for.

Today I called her about another story. She happily talked with me and I was grateful. When I apologized for my slow note-taking (she was my fifth major interview this morning) she told me not to worry. "You can tell you take your time with an interview," she said. "You put a lot of humanity in your writing."

Humanity in my writing. Wow. That's a huge complement.

And some nice feedback.

TARB

Weirdness

You just know any conversation that contains the words "assassinolgy" and "cryptozoology" is going to be weird. Assassinology, as in JFK Assassinology. Cryptozoology, as in Loch Ness and Big Foot.

The gentleman I interviewed on Thursday (I'll call him John) is an expert on weird phenomena. UFOs, ghosts, conspiracy theories, that whole cryptozoology thing. . . One of the libraries in our area is having UFO presentation for the teens, but anyone is welcome. I thought I'd call up the presenter.

I don't know what I was expecting. I try to keep an open mind about these things and, as it turns out, that's all John really asks for. An open mind.

It took a little bit to get him on the phone. I left messages, with no return. Then I sent him an email with an intriguing P.S. "I'm sure you hear a lot of stories. I have a story of my own." He called back in 20 minutes.

John talked a little bit about some of the UFO sightings we've had in this state. One of the most famous occurred in my hometown in the1960's. It appeared in Life and Look magazines. I know people who claimed to have seen those unusual lights and objects in the sky and on the ground. Credible sources. (I also had a middle school science teacher who claimed to have been responsible for the lights. He was a mad scientist type so I really wouldn't put it past him.)

We talked about this and other incidences. He had some interesting stories and so do I. I know of a least three people who have seen "something" followed by a period of missing time. One man was fishing on a boat. He looked up and saw "something." He woke up four hours later on the bank with no memory of what happened next. Another couple was driving on a country back road late one night. Something buzzed their car, blowing out all their electrical. It buzzed them again. They woke up two hours later on the side of the road.

And there is the incident that my friend Greg happened to have on the radio. He was a DJ on Sunday night. This is small town radio at its best. People would call in if they lost a dog or the cows got out. One night the phone lit up. Odd lights and explosions were seen in the sky. Calls came in from all over the county. Greg, being a smart guy, triangulated the events and discovered that they were centered over one particular little town. When he came back on the radio after a commercial break Greg was very subdued. "I just got a call from the United States Air Force," he announced. "I have been asked to quit broadcasting the locations of the lights we've seen in the sky. Now time for some more music." He played "2001: A Space Odyssey." The very next day my parents and I happened to be near that town were the lights triangulated. We looked up and saw a gigantic all black USAF dirigible floating low over the countryside.

John very much liked this story and followed it with a story of his own. Six police officers chased a UFO. Their conversation was recorded by dispatch. When the chase was over a Sargent erased all of the tapes regarding the UFO incident. Before that happened the dispatcher made two tapes of that UFO siting. She sent one to John and kept one for herself. The Sargent found her copy of the tape and destroyed that, too.

John says he's seen something, too. Something that didn't act like a plane. Oddly, he never thought "UFO" when he saw it. "It was as though something was blocking me from thinking that," he said.

And ghosts, yes he's seen something like that, too.

"So," I casually asked, "are you crazy?" (I still can't believe I asked the question.)

"Crazy is relative," he said. "Crazy is not thinking about these things. Crazy is being trapped by a belief system that says these things can't exist. Crazy is not being willing to step outside your comfort zone."

Oh, and I, too, have seen "something" in the sky that I can't explain. It scared me so bad I went and hid in the closet.

Remember, crazy is relative.

TARB

Stories I Hate

"He's right here. Do you want to talk to him?" Nothing like being put in a hard spot.

"Sure," I said. "That'd be great."

The little boy on the phone sounded fine. He sounded like any other 9 year old that I've talked to except he has brain cancer and things are not looking good. He told me he thought the fundraiser was "a good one," and that he was having a good day. He's been throwing up a lot recently and he has a lot bad days. But today was good.

Here's the thing: He doesn't know how sick he is and I didn't want to be the one to tell him with my story.

I can't stand covering the deaths or the impending deaths of young people. We've had a lot of them in the past two weeks.

One of the LJs had to interview the mom of a 16 year old who broke his neck while dirt bike riding. When his picture came across the fax machine it hurt. He was a handsome kid with his whole life in front of him.

Another LJ covered the deaths of a 19 year old and his 22 year old sister. Her fiance ended up dying, as well. They were killed in a car crash in Kentucky. None were wearing seat belts and all were killed when they were thrown from the car. The fiance lived for three days longer than the siblings. When she got the call about his death, she gasped and then went into the bathroom to cry a little.

We don't always know these people, but we still take their deaths hard.

When I was working at the other newspaper 10 years ago we had 10 year old girl who burned to death in a fiery car crash. The mother went back and rescued the 2 year old daughter and the 6 year old daughter. When the mom when back for the unconscious 10 year old, the van was consumed by flames. Passersby burned themselves trying to cut her free from the van. It was terribly tragic. I remember meeting up with other LJs at the Sheriff's Department. They worked in radio and from other papers. Usually competitors, we all felt the same pain.

I went to the funeral for that one. My editor made me. It was horrible. The girl's church used it as an opportunity to recruit more souls. I was sickened and I cried right along with everyone else. How could I not? And then my editor didn't use the story.

So I wrote my sick kid fundraiser story. "If it comes down to quantity or quality, the quality has got to be there," one adult said. Maybe the quote is ambiguous enough that he won't understand that he's going to die and die soon.

After it ran I started getting calls, people wanting to donate.

I guess it will be quality of life for this little boy.

I wish it were both.

TARB