A Different Kind of Thanks

I'm putting the mini drama of covering the Broadwell house that has become my life over the last 10 days aside, and saving it for a later post.  Today I'm talking Thanksgiving.

Most folks are probably making arrangements to travel and see their families and probably cooking something with the the suffix "casserole" tonight.  Not me.  I'm pulling my usual nightshift and bringing it in for a quick turn around to work 9am to 6pm tomorrow.  And for that, I am thankful.  Thankful for the opportunity to spend turkey day (or night) with my wife and to cook a perfectly portioned dinner for just the two of us.

Working in television isn't conducive to seeing your family on most holidays.  I'm working Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years this year.  It's not ideal, but it's the grind you ride in order to keep the lights on.  I'll see my family the weekend before Christmas, and my inlaws the weekend after New Years. I'm thankful for a family that understands the limitations that my chosen profession places on our time together.  If anything, it serves to make the moments we do get together, only more special.

I am thankful for friends that understand my job is much different than theirs, and that it might mean I'll miss your holiday cocktail party.  But it also means that when I do make it to the party, I'll have plenty of outrageous stories to keep the crowd entertained.

I'm thankful for the people I've met through the lens of my camera over the course of the last year.  For the former military man who pulled himself from the depths of addiction and rebuilt his life.  I'm thankful for the beautiful faces that dot the streets and mountains of a small town in Guatemala. 

This year, I have met more people through the lens of a camera that inspire an uprising of hope in me, than ever before in my career.  Usually I go there to tell their story, and end up coming away changed for the better.

I am thankful for the most supportive wife that any man who pushes glass for a living could ask for.  Occasionally she has to ask me to put the weapon down, and remind me to actually experience what it is that I'm capturing.  You can't buy that kind of perspective.

I'm thankful that earlier in the week, our pastor Jim White , gave a message about using your vocation to reach people; to work in such a way that reflects the purpose of your life and to allow your work ethic to be a reflection of a higher calling.  I fall short at that one, but it's something to aspire to in the next year.

If you're reading this, I'm thankful for you.  You've given me an opportunity to chime in on some of the more outlandish things that happen to me in the field, and you've given me a captive audience to share some of the most heartfelt moments I've witnessed.

And in the world we live in, I'm thankful that I have a job.  A place to go each day and do something I truly love.  Do you love what you do?  Are you leveraging your time there as an investment in the people you meet?  Are you thankful for what you have? 

I don't intend that to sound arrogant or pushy, but as a challenge extended to any and all who have made it this far into this blog posting.  I do so because it is my struggle.  It's one I experience every single day.  Some days I miss the mark, and on others, I feel like maybe I got it right. 

Is not being with my family on holidays pleasant? No. Am I a consistent fountain of positivity? No.  Am I always thankful? No.  Thankfulness is a daily decision.  A choice I find myself having to make every time I wake up, and usually several times throughout the day. 

If I can remember I am one of the lucky ones to have a job doing what I love, and remember that the people I meet while doing my job are the real treasure, then that's half the battle. 

People matter.  People inspire thankfulness.  Be them family, friends, or complete strangers.

A Horse of a Different Color

Earlier this week I traded in my usual trap clap beat of dead bodies, flashing blue lights, police reports, and body bags for something... a little different.

After being hurried out the door of the ready room at 9:27 for an event that started at 9:30 that was 20 minutes away, I paused for a moment to collect my faculties before merging onto I-77 and decided to welcome this assignment as a breath of fresh air.

You see, there's a little organization here in the metro area called Kids Rein.  Typically these folks employ therapy horses for kids with autism.  While it is a most respectable gig, what they've been doing lately has gone above and beyond the call of duty for a few guys who were injured in the line of duty.  They're providing their services for 2 Charlotte Mecklenburg Police Officers who suffered traumatic injuries while serving our community. 

I won't waste your time with the technical details of how this little gem came to fruition, but let's just suffice it to say that I needed a story like this one last week.  The grind had been wearing on me since I got back from my recent trip to Guatemala, and I needed a little victory to remind me why it is exactly, that I do what I do.

Take a look and see for yourself.

The Rest of the Story...

Do me a favor.... before you even read this, watch the story I shot today with Alan Cavanna.

Now that we have that out the way, let me tell you the rest of this story.

We were reporting on an intersection that had seen 13 wrecks in 3 years.  The latest victims from last night, included an elderly couple probably pushing 80 years or more.  After gathering all the elements we needed for this story, we figured we would give the old college try at getting said couple to talk on camera about their experience.

What happened roughly 30 seconds after Alan knocked on their door is something neither of us expected.  As Cavanna descended their front stoop and I waited in the wings with my fancy cam shouldered, an old man in a tattered red sweater came to the front door with a fresh head wound and declared "Help me! I NEED HELP! My wife is on the floor and I can't get her up."

I quickly holstered my camera and Alan and I entered their residence to find this man's wife lying face up on the hardwood floor of their humble home.  She was complaining of back pains and wanted us to help her up. She couldn't remember if she fell or what happened.  We declined, insisting that they call an ambulance. Not knowing our next step, and with their great protest, we decided to find someone more familiar to them to encourage them along. I alerted the neighbors we'd just interviewed, who knew them well and they quickly called 911.

We waited for the Medic to arrive and then departed.

I came away from this situation with a couple of takeaways.  First, I appreciated the fact that Alan and I were on the same page.  As this situation unfolded Alan and I practically finished each other sentences in agreeing that none of this would make air or even be mentioned in our story.  This might seem odd to the unabashed, but when I put my camera away and Alan and I transitioned into our human forms, as opposed to blood thirsty exploiters of the human race, we were able to, albeit in a small form, HELP someone.

I kept asking myself all day: "What if we hadn't bothered to knock on their door?"

It's small and meaningless in most people's eyes but there are news crews out there who shale remain nameless, that would have pimped this situation for all it's worth; making a spectacle of the situation and finding some perverse way to incorporate it into the story.

We didn't do that.  Please excuse this little pat on the back but I'm pretty proud of how the situation turned out.  Neighbors thanked us.  The old man in the tattered sweater thanked us.  Gratitude and thank you's are few and far between in our business.  We were reminded of a mantra I've been preaching the entire time I've been pushing a camera lens, people matter more than anything.

Hat's off to Mr. Cavanna for his professionalism.  He's moving onto his dream job with NASCAR next month, and if he and I don't do another story together, I hope this is the memory he'll carry with him about this tattooed photog.

And if it isn't, I'm sure he'll tell you about the time I held his water bottle hostage for over a month.

A Change of Scenery

If you regularly check this blog, or follow me on twitter or facebook, you might have noticed my absence from the world of social media.

All though it was quite welcomed, I'm somewhat happy to be back to the world of technology.

Recently I swapped my usual 50 pound shoulder mount camera for a new toy.

Mrs. Yo! Camerman! and I took a mission trip to Chichicastenango, Guatemala with our old church, Port City Community Church, from Wilmington.  To attempt to sum it all up in a simple blog post would be futile, so just suffice it to say that this entire experience was life changing.  Trust me, you'll learn alot more about yourself by serving others. I highly recommend it.

What I will leave you with are my top 5 favorite photos I captured while down there.  I intend to print a series of these photos entitled "Faces of ChiChi."  Each photograph contains a brief caption & explanation.

"The Orphan"

This little guy wasn't the least bit shy when he saw me draw my new weapon and begin shooting photos of the widows behind him.

Too shy to smile with teeth, this handsome fella stole a piece of my heart on my 3rd day in ChiChi.

"The Jokers"

The two kids fell in love with the lens just as quickly as I did with their humor.

Just prior to this impromptu photo shoot, the guys and I played soccer and they coined my new moniker, "Yo! Gringo!!"

"The Widow"

This vessel of knowledge & humility had been waiting for 8 months for her home to be built.

8 months... It really puts things into perspective.

Long story short: meeting her changed my life and my focus... I am forever grateful. 

"The Sisters"

If these little girls don't melt your heart, you need to check your pulse.

The senorita on the right has a sticker on her nose, and my viewfinder had to dodge a matching one as I photographed these beauties.

"The Teacher & The Student"

I would be remiss if I didn't include at least one picture of the smokin' hot wife from our trip, but this is genuinely, one of my absolute favorites.

The sincerity shown on both their faces is almost overwhelming. 



So that's that... Nothing of the usual... No biting sarcasm.  No brutal words.  I just simply have a heart that is overflowing with gratitude and appreciation for the opportunity to serve the widows and orphans of ChiChi and the hope of opportunity to do it again some day.  Please email me if you'd like the full breakdown of our trip, I'd love to share it with you.

I wrote it once and I will write it again: you'll learn alot more about yourself by serving others.

Four Days in September

Please forgive the tardiness of this DNC postmortem... I'm still recovering after that 91 hour work week.

The city of Charlotte survived, and I've got the t-shirt to prove it.

I've got a fat paycheck coming my way for my efforts, and only a few emotional scars.

I pointed my lens at protestors, politicians, network anchors, and even got a pat down or two from the secret service that I'm pretty sure warranted them buying me a drink or two beforehand.

All in all, it went off without a hitch and was a pretty cool experience.

So, as previously stated, I got to follow the first lady around for a few days. 

Just to be clear, the "lady" pictured to the right is *NOT* Michelle Obama...

But I couldn't resist snapping this photo as the smokin' hot wife and I entered the major scrum of looky loos in center city.

I'm also pretty sure the first lady doesn't have a butterfly tattoo on her upper bicep... I'm pretty sure.

This however is the first lady, addressing the African American caucus.  Surprisingly enough, she delivered the same exact speech, almost word for word verbatim, to the Hispanic caucus and the women's caucus.

Michelle needs some new material.  Never the less, she had them fired up and ready to go.

And then there's Mitt Romney's custom race car, tucked quietly away in the bowels of the NASCAR HOF in an area they refer to as "the war room".

The only thing that I found myself at war with here was the poor lighting, the ambient hum of the house audio feed, and some jackhole reporter from a smaller market who kept calling himself "the shit."

Sorry dude, you're not. But judging by the camera your station sent you here with, I'm willing to bet that your video is in fact, shit.

At the end of it all, I came away with multiple new additions to my press pass collection. 

Probably the most unique, was my first hall pass into the White House Press Pool.

After brushing my junk with the backside of his left hand, one SS agent even took the time to scribble my last name on this little gem.

And finally, on the last day of the convention, I had the distinct pleasure of following a large group of people through the streets of uptown Charlotte as they protested.

That alone was enough to justify my alcohol intake during the week of the DNC.

I treated myself several times to what is quickly becoming my drink of choice... The Old Fashioned (with Jack Daniels).

And no, I've never seen an episode of Mad Men.

I just know that if I ever have to cover a political spectacle like this again... I'll likely turn into a mad man.

DNC Decompress: Days 1 & 2

Forgive me if these updates are brief and not normally as witty.  Covering this thing is truly exhausting and grating on the nerves.

Day 1:  DNC Kickoff Presser

Highlights:

-75 photogs in the scrum
-Ran into a summer intern whose camera is the size of my battery
-Exchanged heated words with someone from Telemundo after they almost damaged my audio cube
-Impromptu fiber liveshot from the convention center
-Lots of national media folks

Day 2:  Newsmakers Live hosted by Diane Sawyer

Highlights:

-Got to hang out with a guy I met while covering the Edwards trial back in May
-Confirmed a one on one with Diane Sawyer later in the week
-Got some cool upclose video of Diane Sawyer
-Live at noon
-I wasn't covering protestors

DNC: The Preamble

The fair city of Charlotte is officially ablaze with a prideful fire of all things DNC.

And let me tell you... These folks throw one hell of party.  Last night's media welcoming party was held at the NC Music Factory and it consisted of close to a dozen (open) bars, each serving (free) food that was representative of their respective culture and target audience, and a headlining concert by Chairmen of the Board.

Needless to say, the always smokin' hot wife and I imbibed, heavily...




So it was probably a good thing that today's assignment consisted of covering the initial protest.

I must have walked at least five miles between our 2 live trucks, the podium, the parade field, and everything in between; all while dodging piles of dog crap and fire ants.

Amazingly, we found people who actually had a comprehensive objective, despite being a mob of people with close 100 different grievances with their government.


Stay tuned, I will effort a daily recap of my experiences with this cluster.