Memories Of Floyd

So ... unless you've been hiding under a rock and haven't watched any TV station or read any newspaper in the great state of North Carolina within the last seven days, you know that this week marks the 10th anniversary of Hurricane Floyd and the devastating flooding that followed it.

To be honest (and it's certainly a shame), my memories of Floyd aren't all that strong ... and certainly not as vivid as the memories of 9/11 that I blogged about over the weekend.

When Floyd rolled through, I was just a 15-year-old high school punk living at home in Wilson. I can remember sleeping in a downstairs bedroom the night the storm made landfall, though. My bedroom was upstairs, but since my childhood home has a TON of trees all around it, my family figured it'd be safer to stay in the downstairs bedrooms that were also a bit farther away from the trees.

There was a lot of rain and wind that night, but otherwise I remember sleeping pretty well ... and waking up thinking that the storm seemed rather unremarkable. I think a section of the fence in our backyard was knocked down ... and in one of the hurricanes of the late 90s, a fallen tree demolished the house across the street from ours (can't remember if it was Floyd, though).

I also remember some of the flooding in Wilson, especially around Toisnot Park. There aren't any major rivers in Wilson County, so we were better off than some ... but I know that things sure were bad in some parts of the county and the town. There was a lot of flooding over near the Rec, too.

I think there was some flooding at my house, as well ... but incredibly, it was nothing compared to the flooding that comes these days at the hands of even an hours-long rainfall.

As you can tell, this is where my memory starts to get fuzzy. No doubt all of the aforementioned TV stations and newspapers have been running stories involving people's recollections of the storm all week ... and I wanted to share one with you guys that I just happened to read.

It interests me because it's from someone who was working at WNCT at the time ... and I always enjoy hearing how folks in TV recount their experiences covering the events that change people's lives.

As you'll read, covering the storm also changed Chad Tucker's life. Chad now works at WGHP in the Triad and I've had the good fortune of getting to know him lately. Like me, his TV career started at Channel 9 ... and it sounds like Floyd may have affected the trajectory of his career.

Read his thoughts (which he has allowed me to share with you) and then leave me your recollections of Hurricane Floyd!

"I Can Still Hear the Storm," by Chad Tucker ...

In September of 1999 I was finishing my senior year studying journalism at East Carolina University in Greenville. Outside the classroom my part-time job as a news producer for CBS affiliate WNCT-TV put me in the middle of one of North Carolina’s biggest news events of the 20th century. It was the perfect classroom. It was the point I learned the truth behind my calling.

Hurricane Floyd, born off the coast of Africa made its way to North Carolina on September 16, 1999. It’s a day I will never forget. It’s a day that changed me.

The night the storm came I went to work helping the TV station produce 24-7 hurricane coverage. Late in the evening I went home to my apartment with rain so thick the typical 10 minute drive became an hour. To this day, I can still hear the storm. The constant rain and roar of Hurricane Floyd created an unsettling feeling inside of me as it passed in the night. While the rain found its way through the modern windows of my apartment, the constant wind – in an odd way – helped put me at rest. I found some sleep that night. But with dawn light and the storm still howling -- to this day I can still see the trees outside my bedroom window – bent by the constant wind. Hurricane Floyd was about to end, but hell was just beginning.

By mid morning – the water began to rise. My phone rang with my boss saying people are clinging to their roofs. I went to work.

The monster made landfall near Cape Fear as a category 2 hurricane, passing north over Eastern North Carolina dumping nearly 17 inches of rain. That’s 17 inches of rain on top of 15 inches Hurricane Dennis dumped just weeks before. It was just too much rain for the rivers of Eastern North Carolina, including the Tar River that flowed through Greenville.

For more than a week classrooms at ECU sat empty while students around campus fought to save what they owned. The Tar River came out of its banks, cresting 24 feet above flood stage. The river flooded thousands of student apartments, homes and their cars. Greenville became an island with no way in or out. Water was everywhere. Highways now rivers...

I worked all day in the newsroom gathering information. Our station became a lifeline. For those without power and could not see us, radio stations broadcasted our signal. I worked many hours making calls on where roads were out, where shelters were open and answering the back door. The first time I opened the back door a family stood soak and wet. The family lost everything and just wanted to know where to go. The moment was raw and real.

I never took time to stop and take it all in. I heard the reports and passed them along; “a woman found dead floating in her home, dead cattle, hogs everywhere, – a couple trapped on their roof waiting for the coast guard helicopter.” But the moment that captured my soul – making me stop – was a call from a crying EMS worker in Pinetops. I answered the phone and I can still hear his broken voice. “Yaw need to report this… (As he paused, I could hear him wiping the tears) we just found an entire family dead, – yes – an entire family.” The family of six members died when their boat capsized while trying to leave their flooded home. I wrote down the information and walked to the studio giving it to the anchor on the air. He read it, looked at me and shook his head before turning to the camera to repeat what I had written.

For days I worked the newsroom phones, helped with food drives and fundraisers. I had no water or power at my apartment for a week, but I had my life. I had a lot to be thankful for. 52 people died including one ECU student caught in the creek-turned-river at the bottom of College Hill. I and my classmates returned to class a week after the storm passed. We all sat in class silent, except for a girl in the back weeping. She lost everything including her text book.

After graduation I turned to the other side of the camera, reporting for a few years the news of Eastern North Carolina for WNCT. Many of those reports dealt with the human spirit rising above it all as people rebuilt their lives and their communities.

On this day – I look back more appreciative of life, living and a part of our great state that lives perseverance – becoming better and stronger from a storm. A storm, I can still hear.

Off The Record?

When I first read Terry Moran's tweet about President Obama calling Kanye West a "jackass," my first thought wasn't whether the president had actually said so (after all, I think 98 percent of Americans, regardless of political belief, can agree on that). No, my first thought was of wonder about how Moran had heard about the quote so quickly ... and why a quote that involved such strong language from the president regarding a situation that drew so much attention was nowhere to be found when I searched the news wires and the internet.

When it came to light that the president made the remark minutes before a CNBC interview, I was even more confused about how ABC News employees had accidentally spilled the beans on the president's remark. At first I thought ABC had stumbled upon a CNBC satellite feed ... but this article clearly lays out how ABC Newsers heard the comment through a fiber optic line shared by the competing networks.

The article also addresses the journalistic concept of "off the record" ... something I wanted to address briefly here.

When it comes right down to it, the things that bind a journalist not to report something they've learned "off the record" are professional courtesy and personal/journalistic ethics. On any given story, a journalist only reports a fraction of the information they really know. In TV, part of that involves only being able to say so much in a 1:15 long story ... and part of it involves keeping your mouth shut.

Sources tell us things off the record for a number of reasons. Sometimes they're fearful of going "on the record" with it. Sometimes reporters just need a little taste of the back story to do a better job of telling the story at hand. And sometimes sources just like to run their mouths.

But anything that's ever said to a reporter is committed to memory, written down in a notebook or considered for use.

I don't really like talking to people "off the record" too often. In a way, knowing more of the story actually handcuffs a reporter ... and at times it can get confusing as to what is on the record and what is off.

When someone tells me something off the record, if it's pertinent to the story at hand and in the public interest, I'll do everything within my power to get them to go on the record with it ... or I'll do what I can to confirm it through another source.

Unless there's some clearly defined and overwhelming public and journalistic interest in publishing something a source told me off the record, then I'm not going to do it (and I can say to this day that I've never run with something I shouldn't run with before I got confirmation on it). The reason for that is simple ... journalists have to build trustful relationships with sources and with viewers/readers. It goes back to the professional courtesy I mentioned earlier.

If a reporter publishes information they learned off the record, they've likely just burned a bridge in a big way. You can't effectively do this job whilst going around and burning bridges. You'll betray the trust of your sources and you'll betray the trust of the people you're working for ... the viewers and readers.

Most reporters care greatly for their reputations ... I know I've worked extremely hard to build a reputation as a relatable, trustworthy and reliable reporter. I want to keep it that way ... and for better or for worse, that's where "off the record" comes in to play.

The Surreal World

(Fair warning ... this is a long post, but I think it's a worthwhile read. Enjoy!)

Friday felt surreal right from the get-go. First of all, it marked the eighth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. As I drove to Jacksonville to cover the Patriot Day ceremony there, I thought about what I was doing when the world changed eight years ago.

I remember it vividly. I was a senior in high school, sitting in the library doing work for my independent study Spanish class. Along with another student (her name was Tamika White), I hit the library every day for first period. We'd gone through all five levels of Spanish our county's school system offered in high school -- but our teacher managed to create an independent study course/project for us to undertake.

We got to know the librarians pretty well since we saw them every day. And right around 9a, one of them stepped out of her office and in a flustered tone said, "Turn on the TV. My husband just called and said a plane hit the World Trade Center." So we tuned the tube to CBS and watched as smoke poured out of one of the towers. We theorized about how it happened and only began to allow ourselves to think it may have been intentional when word came that a couple of jetliners had gone missing.

Then we watched aghast as the second plane plowed into the second tower. At this point, our minds were made up ... America was under attack.

Things were happening so fast and yet it felt like time was standing still. Somehow the bell managed to ring and first period ended. I left my belongings in the library and waded into the halls, where 1,100 other students had little clue as to what was happening. I met my second period teacher in the hall (Mrs. Hinnant) and told her what was going on. She taught AP English but didn't want us to miss watching history unfold and took our entire class into the library.

There we watched the attack on the Pentagon happen. Bryant Gumble was in the anchor chair for CBS that morning ... and when the director took the shot of the smoldering Pentagon (without telling Gumble), I can remember hearing him say "This is the Pentagon -- Oh, my God."

That's exactly what we were all thinking. And though we were only a bunch of teenagers, we prayed. We worried. Some cried. We all felt numb.

Flash forward to Friday. The memories of what came eight years earlier flashed in front of me again as I stood near Jacksonville's 9/11 Memorial, watching pictures of the victims flash in front of me while an emcee told their stories.

That was surreal enough. But it was only 9a and I still had to shoot another story.

So I ran to my office, sent in some video for the noon newscast and shuffled off to the Onslow County Sheriff's Office ... where the three other TV stations, the newspaper and I were set to interview Sheriff Brown about 54 marijuana plants and 51 pit bulls deputies found the day before.

We chatted with the sheriff for a while, saw pictures of the weed and the dogs. We learned a lot about dog fighting and the instruments used there-in. Deputies say the man they arrested was breeding dogs to fight. Judging by the graphic, gruesome pictures we saw, it's hard to argue.

We wanted the whole story, though. So me, Andrea Pacetti from News14, Chelsea Donovan from WITN and Lindell Kay from The Daily News headed out to the man's house.

The man, Lethen Pollock, was still in jail ... but his mom was at the scene. Chelsea and I shot video through the woods of the dogs chained to the ground while Lindell worked to convince Pollock's mom to talk to us. I'm usually pretty good at getting unwilling (and yet crucial) folks to talk ... but Lindell expertly convinced Mrs. Pollock to talk after Chelsea and I underscored the importance of getting her son's side of the story out there.

She talked to us and staunchly defended her son. She also let us see hundreds of pounds worth of dog food she said her son feeds the dogs, attempting to counter the sheriff's claims of malnutrition.

Then another family member took us in to the backyard to some kennels. They were filled with moms and puppies, empty water bowls and lots of dog waste. The smell was overwhelming. Think hog lagoon.

I also got a couple of shots of the dogs hidden in the woods, shackled with inch-thick chains around their necks. Pollock's mom insisted her son is a dog lover. She said he doesn't fight the dogs. She claimed he takes good care of them.

It's not my job to second-guess or judge. Pollock is in jail on drug charges but hasn't yet been charged in connection with the dogs. Animal Control hasn't returned my calls to tell me whether he will be charged in connection with the dogs.

Read Lindell's blog about it here or watch my story below.

After you check them both out, I think you'll agree ... sometimes it's a surreal world out there.

Update (9/13, 9:15p): Despite me dogging Onslow County Animal Control for info, I haven't heard back from them. However, the Onslow County Magistrate's Office has just confirmed to me that Lethen Pollock has been charged with cruelty to animals and mistreatment of animals. I'll work to get even more information on Monday.

Giving It Another Go

OK, OK ... so it's been a while since I updated the blog. How long? Well, George W. Bush was still president. Michael Vick was in prison. Bernie Madoff wasn't. And the unsuspecting world had no idea it'd soon be inundated with 'round-the-clock coverage of the King of Pop's death or controversy over health care. My, how things change.

But I'm going to try and change how frequently I update my blog. A couple years ago, I did it regularly ... and it attracted a decent following. Eventually, it grew cumbersome for one reason or another. Now, I hope to do a better job (a pledge I realize I've made several times...).

There's no denying that social media is revolutionizing journalism. I'm a Twitterholic and enjoy connecting with friends, family and viewers through my tweets. Twitter's value on a professional level is abundantly clear to me. But outside of how it benefits me, I enjoy trying to give people a behind-the-scenes look at how other reporters and I go about getting the stories we do each day ... and demystifying some of the misconceptions about how our industry works.

I'm hoping to expand that here and share some thoughts and insights about the goings-on both off- and on-camera throughout the day. Often there is so much that I can't squeeze in to a story on the nightly news or crazy shenanigans that happen in pursuit of making said story happen. Hopefully this will be a place where I can tell the rest of the story.

And I want it to be interactive. I love the opportunity to interact with viewers and web users on Twitter ... so comment, criticize and suggest. Help me find more good stories to tell and share your own experiences.

With your help, I'm hoping giving it another go will prove successful!

Look for another update soon ... detailing what was an incredibly surreal day on the job this past Friday (9/11).

One Flu Over the Cuckoo's Nest

I never understood any of the hubbub about the flu -- the hype about flu shots, the hysteria when there weren't enough flu shots and the hordes of people who lined up to get their flu shots (or drove up, in the case of the drive-by flu clinics here in Carteret County). It just all seemed like a bit much to me. I mean, how bad could this "flu" thing be? I just never got it.

Then I got the flu.

Man, did I get the flu. A one-two punch of the flu and a sinus infection. And it was like nothing that'd ever hit me before.

A week out of work, a fever higher than anything I'd ever had before and a headache like you wouldn't believe.

Now more than a week after I started feeling like crap, I'm finally starting to feel better. I'm ready to tackle heading back to work tomorrow and hopefully I'm done with the flu.

And I've learned an important lesson. The flu is no joke. So if you haven't already, get your flu shot. Trust me. I definitely will from now on.

Why? Because I finally got it.

Giving Back

Hey everyone,

Sorry it's been a while since I've updated the blog. I wish I could say that I had a really good excuse or reason, but I don't. That said, I hope everyone is doing well.

Last time I blogged, I talked about the sacrifices our men and women in uniform make for all of us. One person left a comment wondering how they could give back or send care packages to troops overseas.

Well, I'm sure there are lots of groups out there that provide ways for you to give back, but I'll recommend one that I know WNCT has worked with a number of times and has done stories about before.

It's called "Give 2 The Troops" and you can find its website at www.give2thetroops.org. They have a vast array of different ways you can get involved with giving back to our military -- monetary donations, items for care packages, calling cards, etc.

I'm sure there are other ways to give back -- and if you know of any, please let me know! But off the top of my head, that's one I wanted to recommend. So, take that for what it's worth, but check 'em out!

Sacrifice

In the 2+ years that I've been out in the Real World and working at WNCT, I've learned a lot. Ask any number of my friends and family, and they'll tell you I "occasionally" act as if I know it all. Well, (gasp) I don't know it all -- but I certainly am learning new stuff every day.

One thing I don't think I ever grasped until I moved out on my own was what 'sacrifice' meant. I mean, I know the Webster's definition and everything, but it's not something that was all that real to me. When I graduated and left Heaven-On-Earth (Chapel Hill, for the uninitiated readers out there), I thought leaving my best friends and the greatest place God ever created was as serious as sacrifice ever got. And for a 22-year-old kid, that was pretty big.

But it's nothing compared to what I've learned the last couple years. I've gotten a sense (although not a true taste) of how much my parents sacrificed for me to be happy and for me to be successful. I've gained a much greater and more real appreciation of the ultimate sacrifice Christ made for all of us (something I try to remind myself of every day).

But one sacrifice I can't help but face every day is the sacrifice that the men and women of our military have made. Because of where I live, there are at least two Coast Guard (the most overlooked and under-appreciated branch of the military) bases, one Marine Corps outlying landing field and four other Marine Corps installations (Cherry Point, Camp Lejeune, Camp Johnson and New River) within spitting distance of my house. There are countless Marine Corps bombing ranges nearby -- and probably other bases that belong to the Marines/other branches that I don't even know about, too.

I am literally surrounded by tens of thousands of military service men and women each and every day. And I am so thankful for them.

I've even become good friends with a few of them, and that's a real privilege.

In light of yesterday being Veterans Day, though, it got me thinking about all the sacrifices they make.

I've covered a number of deployments and homecomings for WNCT. The joy when a family is reunited after a long deployment is palpable when you're covering a homecoming. The fear, anxiety, sadness and the sacrifice are far more powerful when you're covering a deployment.

I mean, our troops are leaving their spouses, their kids, their friends and families to go fight (and too often) die for the rest of us. (And I thought leaving college was hard.) Meanwhile, countless "Americans" sit and second-guess the reasons our troops are overseas and do nothing to support them and their families while they're gone.

Look, I hate politics (although I love covering politics ... weird). But there is nothing political about supporting the people fighting for our country (and yes, they are very cognizant of the fact that they are fighting for you to have the right to protest against them fighting wars...). And I don't want to hear anyone say that 'the best way to support them is to bring them home.' It would be great to have them home, for sure. But the best way to support them is TO SUPPORT THEM no matter what they're doing and where they are.

When it comes to this issue, I don't care about your politics. I don't care about your beliefs. I don't care about your excuses. All I care about is that we all show our veterans -- past and present -- that we are grateful for everything they do and everything they've done.

Do it by simply saying 'thanks.' Do it by listening to older veterans tell stories about their service. Do it by holding a door or shaking their hands or giving them a pat on the back. They appreciate it, because they aren't compensated for their sacrifice nearly enough.

Support our troops by supporting their families while they're deployed. God knows their families make sacrifices and their spouses and kids need as much love and support as anyone.

And support our troops by encouraging our lawmakers to improve the equipment and technology that keep our troops safe -- and just as importantly, the healthcare and treatment (both physical and mental) they get when they return home and for the rest of their lives.

Until you see the sacrifices our military members make, you may never gain a true appreciation for them. I know I didn't have a clue until I saw it for myself. But give them your full support, nonetheless.

Sorry for getting on the soapbox, but when you see sacrifice like that daily, it's easy to get fired up. (And by the way, thanks to mom and dad for their sacrifices, too.)

Thoughts?