Todd's Take 2

I watched the fall of new York Governor Eliot Spitzer unfold today with the same fascination most people did. But I'm surprised how jaded I have become.
Here was this crusading crime fighter turned Governor who steamrolled over crooks and creeps from the backrooms to the boardrooms suddenly taking a swan dive into sex scandal infamy. Why wasn't I more shocked?
Because 10 year and two months ago, I came to live in D.C. with my family. And got a front row seat as an oversexed power-groupie and a chief executive high on indignation and low on self-control nearly toppled a presidential administration. I didn't want to believe it all then. And hated trying to explain it to my (then-young) children. Seeing the faces of Spitzers daughters and wife in video was the only thing that tugged at my emotions today.
The only piece of the Spitzer story I didn't believe - is that he didn't quit instantly.
And if I'm one of Hillary Clinton's campaign people ... I'm running for cover as the history of political sex-scandals gets cranked up again. THAT can't be good for her cause - who wants to be reminded of how high-minded leaders can go so low... and then end up stumping for their humiliated spouses a decade later ?
Maybe Mrs. Spitzer has a political career ahead of her.

My blogging rate (IS there such a thing?) is terrible . Dangerously close to missing my one per month ratio (pathetic) I will multitask as I copy edit the eleven o'clock show and watch the GOP debate from the Reagan library in California.

[first impression: John McCain looks like he's being careful. Ooh, he's smiling alot. Dangerous.]

I'm worried about what I'll do for "fun" when this "2 debates a week (it seems) period" is over and I can't eat dinner while watching this stuff. Yes, I do lead the glamorous life!

[second impression: Mitt Romney looks and acts alot more like a TV news anchor than I ever will. But I wouldn't bait McCain like that. Or use that much stuff in my hair. ]

We're working on our first Cold Case report in 7 weeks. It's new territory - the Montgomery County Police Department has graciously helped us look back at an unsolved murder from 32 years ago. The victim was a 15 year old Aspen Hill girl . I interviewed her mother last night. She still lives in the same house. She cried. My eyes filled with tears (more than Hillary's did in NewHampshire). No - you won't see it on TV ... this is not the sequel to that movie Broadcast News.
I get nervous writing these reports - I want to do a job that lives up to the family's expectations - and I want to tell a story effective enough to spur someone to call police.

[third impression : Mike Huckabee will make big bucks on the lecture circuit. He's a good communicator.. and genuinely funny]

I hope you'll watch the Cold Case Sunday at 11. Don't let the Super Bowl wear you out. And don't forget to change the channel to WUSA after the Giants win.

[ fourth impression: does Ron Paul always look.... surprised ?]

[fifth impression: Mitt's HAIR is even better then mine ! ]

When I was 13, another kid stuck a loaded .45 caliber handgun in my face. I saw him shove the clip in first - then point the gun it at me. He did it for maybe 30 seconds. I still see it in my mind sometimes.
But I never knew someone who died of a gunshot before. So, when they buried Sean Taylor Monday, my mind raced. The Reverand Jesse Jackson preached against gun violence and for "choosing life". I nodded in agreement, sitting on my couch. But I didn't know Sean.
I kept thinking about the young man behind the lunch counter around the corner in my neighborhood - the man they buried the same day the Redskins number 21 died.
His name was Tim Spicer. And he worked at Ben's Chili Bowl. He was just one year older than Sean, 25. And I saw him almost every day - in the front window, over where the half smokes get grilled up. And he was always grinning. ALWAYS.
When I read the news story on Tim while copy editing scripts - I knew it was him before I even finished. I didn't know about his beloved Chevy Caprice (the one the carjackers took before they shot him) , about his rap lyric writing, or t-shirt designs. He was just the kid in the Nats cap, joking with Maurice and Jermaine in front of the deep fryer. I instantly liked all those guys when I went into Ben's the SAME DAY I moved into the neighborhood . In fact, sometimes I stick my head in, just to hear what's the on juke box, or to feel the rush of positive energy you immediately get from the folks at Ben's.
They joked with me the last time I was in - because I bussed my own table. Jermaine asked me why ... and I said "because I feel like part of the family here, gimme a white shirt and I'll jump behind the counter" ! We all laughed.
When I left, Tim called me "Todd". Now, we always said hello. But it struck me - because I'm not sure he'd ever seen me on T.V. And I wouldn't really have expected him to know my name. I thought - I should talk to him more the next time I'm in here - he's always smiling like he knows something - something good!
I haven't been in Ben's lately, not since I saw the handwritten sign on the door announcing the candlelight vigil, the viewing, and the funeral service. I can't even look in the window yet.
I never knew someone who died of a gunshot before. I don't want to know any more.

I truly hope anyone who reads this FIRST knows how thankful I am that you bothered to check in here. It's quite a leap of faith to assume that anyone could care less what I have to say this day or any other. But then again -I think anchoring a television newscast comes with a certain "suspension of disbelief". As in - yes people are actually tuned in (the physical AND mental act of "tuning in") and are really absorbing what you're presenting on the air. I mean- talking into the camera and hoping someone's on the other end watching seems an awfully optimistic act - doesn't it?
I'm thankful for everyday I get that feeling of telling a story that needs to be told. I think I actually started reporting believing I would serve some useful purpose. There's a lot of "feel good" chatter that goes into a newscast that hopefully makes you smile (or grimace) , of course. And obviously, whether it's a story about the heroism of our troops so far away who risk their lives while we get to live ours , the upcoming presidential primaries, or even reminding you of where the traffic slowdowns or accidents are over the holiday weekend - it feels good to know we're letting you know what's going on.
I'm thankful to be part of that -thankful to be part of a team of hardworking,dedicated,and just plain GOOD people.
And while I'm at it - I'm eternally thankful for the two beautiful, talented, hilarious, and occasionally FRUSTRATING teenagers in my life. And I wish I was sitting down with them tonight to hear the latest in their lives - or maybe just a grunt of acknowledgement ! (you know how it is)
And I couldn't be more thankful for my mother,sisters, niece, and nephew. And thankful to be blessed by the people who've touched my life and made it worthwhile. I hope you know who you are ! If not - I've got a lot more work to do... OFF camera.

We're quickly learning that Cold Case reports can take some surprising turns.
Sunday November 18th - we're reporting on a crime largely ignored five years ago. Automatic weapons fire into a crowd - a 22 year old woman dies.
But everyone was looking the other way: it was September 11th 2002. All the news coverage was focused on the first anniversary. We try to make amends now.
It turns out though - that police could get allthe informatoin they need to close this murder case- from the man who was the TARGET that night.
Police want him to step up. You will too- when you hear from the victim's mother Sunday - in the Cold Case Murder of Shawntel White.

I'm writing my first blog since September just to prove my blog and I are compatible. For weeks,I've tried and failed to log on - as if WUSA9.com (my favorite website heh heh) just KNEW I had nothing really interesting to say. THE SOLUTION: a new a password (Miriam, Emily thank you).
A WHOLE lot has happened lately...
I've found myself immersed in one of the most interesting,rewarding,disturbing,and challenging projects of my reporting career. Our Cold Case reports are just what you'd surmise: old, cold criminal cases. We're hoping a fresh look may open the door to information to help police close some of these cases.
From a young man who was new to his neighborhood and was murdered while walking his dog, to a young lawyer who vanished from Dupont Circle on a Saturday night only to be found in the Potomac weeks later - every crime makes you shudder. The stories are so deeply personal - victims with happy lives, families and friends who loved them, gone in an instant. And no one is found responsible. The strength and grace of loved ones willing to share those stories has really touched me. It makes me SO want to help them find closure ... and maybe a little peace.
Editor Al Calogero, who is doing really remarkable work on these stories, was telling me how quickly he put the names with the faces of the victims in our two part Cold Case report on the Freeway Phantom. Six girls murdered in DC over a 16 month period. All too close in age to my own children. I saw the innocent faces of those girls for days - and will never forget them, or the sisters of two victims who spoke so openly about their loss. I got just a tiny glimpse at what detectives who really work to solve the crimes must go through.
One more note: is there anything better at your job than working as a team and "kicking some butt" (uh - Not how I talk out of the blogosphere) with a successful project? Photopgraphers Greg Guise and Alija Sakota have shot these stories with great passion, finesse and have provided me with some great tools and ideas !
We're working on another Cold Case for this coming Sunday at 11. And A Thursday night report tied to Without a Trace.
I hereby vow - more blog posts - a LOT shorter !

I get asked quite often which stories "get to me". With all the hurt, horror, and pain we report on, does it all just get washed away when the studio lights dim? OR do the stories that hit you, the viewer, on an emotional level - do the same to me? The answer's yes, though my professional training says I'm not supposed to "show" too much of that.
But sometimes, the news happens right in front of you. I was in the stands at Ralph Wilson Stadium for the Bills-Broncos Sunday September 9th. I didn't see the impact from our side of the field, but I saw that a Bills player wasn't getting up. It was Kevin Everett. And the way his motionless body was strewn acrosss the turf, I was worried. Immediately.
We, of course, take for granted the risks professional football players take. Relentless violent collisions - made for our entertainment. There's no bigger NFL fan than me - my dad took me to see my first Bills game when I was eight. I even worked for the team selling programs at home games when I was in college. And took Dad to games when I was a "semi-adult" and could afford it .
But as the minutes ticked away and number 85 didn't move, while I whispered under my breath to my buddy Joe that "this doesn't look good", I started thinking - "this is my last game here". I suddenly felt a sense of guilt for enjoying the game at all. I kept my eye out for the ambulance - and for any sign that Everett was even alive- and my mind flooded. Had I just seen a man die on the field? Would this be how I would remember my LAST game as a fan ? I hadn't been back home to see a game in 11 years: the month before Dad died, we took my son Max to HIS first Bills game, just as Dad had taken me. I hadn't had the desire to return since. But I made this trip to see my friend CBS NFL Analyst Steve Tasker inducted on the Bills Wall of Fame, to maybe get a glimpse of his brothers Keith and Paul on the field, and their parents - all close to my heart from my time living and working in Kansas. Now, all I could think of was .. "Why did I come? and What happens to that young guy out there who may be dying?" As the ambulance pulled off the field -I suddenly wanted to leave too.
I didn't really talk about it much Monday. Sports Director Brett Haber didn't mention the story at 6pm or 11, and that was o.k. by me. But when I saw the alert come over the AP newswire the next day, when I went to the New York Times and read that Kevin Everett's prognosis had improved dramatically if not MIRACULOUSLY , my heart leapt. Brett did the story.
I've gotten out of bed each day since and checked first thing to see the latest on Everett. I've read the stories, learned about how an experimental ice cold saline solution injection might have saved his spinal column. Watched the network reports. And I've said a silent little prayer for him and his family.
I don't know if I'll ever go to another game (though it's alot more likely now). But I do know that following my favorite team won't be quite the same. I mean, yes, the Bills still need to get that Super Bowl win someday. But I'd rather be sitting on the fifty yard line in Buffalo just one more time: the day Kevin Everett walks back onto the field to the loudest cheers that stadium has ever heard.