Breaking News

I have been a freelance reporter for almost three years now. The typical story I am assigned to is several days in advance, and pretty much runs the way I expect it to.

Last week, the editor asked me to cover the Drag Boat Races, out at Lake Nasworthy here in San Angelo. I'd never been out to the Boat Races before, and was looking forward to doing something new.

I went out on Saturday, spoke to sponsors, drivers, and volunteers. Before I knew it, I'd been out there for three hours! I called and left a message for the weekend editor to tell her that the story would be on its way shortly. She called me back soon after, apologizing, and told me that the story was actually for the NEXT day! Not a problem, I figured I would go out and speak to some spectators on the final day of the event.

When I got there, Peggy, the lady driving the golf cart, introduced me to two Marines who had just gotten to San Angelo the day before. They were out enjoying their weekend before they started work/school on Monday.

The event went as I expected, speaking to lots of great people. There was lightening nearby, so I even got to speak to people uninterrupted by the noise of the boats.

After getting all the interviews that I needed, I was trying to leave. I had already been there longer than expected. It was starting to rain. Finally, I got in the golf cart that was going to take me back to my car. As we were getting in, I watched two of the LOUD boats racing each other, both going in speeds in excess of 200 mph. I had just gotten in, when I heard the crowd start groaning. Something had happened.

I was already late leaving, so in my mind, I was thinking, "I need to get home to get this story done." But, fate intervened, as Jenni, the lady I had interviewed moments earlier, said, "move over, we have to go!"

I tried to get out of the cart, but she and Peggy, also in the cart, said, "You're a reporter; this is your story!"

As we ZOOMED, and I mean ZOOMED to the exit ramp where the boats were to be taken from the water, I was amazed at the skill of the driver- one of the Marines I'd met earlier. He got us to the ramp literally minutes before the second ambulance arrived.

Luckily, both drivers were ok. But, I realized when I got there, and saw the lines of people holding hands in support and prayer, that I did indeed have a story. The adrenaline, both from the accident itself and the golf cart ride to the scene, had me jittery to say the least. Then, as I was looking for people to interview, I realized I was rain-soaked, wind-blown, and covered with mud. My glasses had rain on them, but my shirt was too wet/dirty to clean them! From sitting in the back of the golf cart, my legs were muddy from the knees down!

Later, I laughed to myself, thinking what people must have thought when I introduced myself as a writer for the Standard-Times. There were a lot of them, too- I realized that I had to speak to a lot of people to get what was the closest to the real story.

But, it was my first breaking news story! And, luckily another reporter was there to add details that I couldn't get... So, that was my first "joint" story as well.

Here's the link-
http://www.gosanangelo.com/news/2010/jun/27/drivers-pulled-from-boats-after-accident/

Waiting for the driver to get out of surgery today, so I can call him to interview him!