Tag Archives: Journalism

Unemployed, again

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Today, I am unemployed. Last night, with my brother leading the sports efforts, I put the paper together then to bed. I wrapped up my career at the Capital Journal quietly and quickly.

My job at the newspaper was just supposed to be a side gig. I was going to write a few stories, edit and help the paper build its social media presence. I wasn’t going to let reader comments bother me or let the workload consume my life. It would just be another job, nothing monumental.

I set these parameters because of this on-going love-hate relationship I have with journalism. I can’t settle on whether I want to be a journalist or not. When I am doing it, I hate it. When I am not doing it, I miss it. Journalism brings out the best and worst in me and I can’t quite make a decision on what role I want it to play in my life. Do other people struggle with their chosen professions this way or am I insane? I assume the latter. Peace Corps was supposed to be a break from it, time to make the decision. Then, when I came home, I thought working at the newspaper temporary would give me clarity. But I had to not let it consume my life.

My job would not become my life.

Then the flood happened.

Then 70-hour weeks. Then nagging emails about each little mistake made under my byline (always grammatical, never factual). Then the guilt to write every story and release every bit of information. Then the feelings of inadequacy that I would and could never be a great journalist.

It did become my life. Again, reporting was my identity.

Despite the internal struggle, I did produce some pieces that I’m proud of. And, I can’t count the number of times I was stopped by figures from my childhood who just needed to tell me, “I love your writing.” To be told that as many times as I was this summer is a downright gift from God.

Now, it’s over. Four months felt like 12. The distraction of work is no longer there, hiding the giant fear of Lesotho and returning to the Peace Corps. This morning, without a job to attend to, my spinning thoughts woke me up. Worry over money, the never-ending to do-list and how the hell I am going to get on plane and start this all over beat me down. With work, I could put it off. But the reporting has ended and the countdown to departure is now more real than ever before.

Four years ago, when I graduated college, I would’ve thrown rocks at you if you told me I would one day be at home reporting for the Capital Journal. It’s an experience that I’m thankful for. I worked with a wonderful group of people to make a difference. This is how I was meant to spend my time between services, and a way, I could see this job as partial reason for my return.

Looking back at the flood, I realize that I couldn’t have just filled sandbags. I would need to be in the thick of it, telling stories. Because no matter if I pursue a journalism career after the Peace Corps or it ends here, telling stories is what I do.

Thirteen

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At about 2:45 p.m. there was a large rumble that shook the newsroom floor.

There is some construction going on in our building, so we first thought someone had hit something. Then, I called my dad.

“Did you hear that?”

“Everybody heard that.”

I hadn’t hung up the phone yet when I screamed “Call the police department.” Chris, without instruction, grabbed a camera and set out to photograph whatever it is and Ann and Ruth started to call everyone we could think of — dispatch, the fire department, police department, heads of various city departments, the governor’s office, the National Weather Service, Elsworth Airforce Base, the county emergency manager, the U.S. Corps Amy or Engineers. A sonic boom? A water main break? An explosion? A plane crash? No one seemed to know. I funneled the information, or lack of, into our website and social media. Finally, from the USGS, we got the answer. Earthquake. In South Dakota.

It registered a 3.4, which is considered a minor earthquake, and there was no damage. Just a freak small tremble. It happened near Steamboat Park, which is underwater thanks to the Missouri River Flood.

If you are keeping track of Heather’s ridiculous events of 2011 it is now two evacuations — one related to terrorism and the other political activism — a cholera outbreak, a flood and an earthquake.  A friend asked if he could choose what disaster will occur when I see him in a few weeks. My dad said if there is a locust outbreak he is kicking me out of the house. It used to be a joke, but I am really starting to wonder if I am cursed.

Anyway, Ruth and Ann did a great job of tracking it down and we have a fun little story for tomorrow. An earthquake in South Dakota, that is a new one.

Ten

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Sorry, today’s post is lame. My weekend will mostly be consumed at the ball field covering a state tournament. This is a photo from the crows nest of everything I have to do at any give time – keep book, take notes, shoot photos, keep a live blog and input information into social media. Visual, text, online – it’s all important to today’s coverage, but can be tricky when you are a one-man show. Anyway, that’s my day. Hope you have a good, and more exciting, weekend.

The Flood & I

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I know that I have groaned on and on about this flood, but it’s still been a remarkable time. The Capital Journal’s website traffic reached 1 million views last month, single-copy sales nearly doubled and our social media insights increased by percents in the thousands. Most of all, we gained a level of respect from the community for our breaking and thorough coverage. Not bad for a staff of four with less than 10 years of journalism experienced combined.

In celebration, I thought I would post some products of all those long days and Subway Veggie-Delights (with pepper jack, no dressing). You guys like to read my byline, right? Wink, wink. Anyway, I won’t win any Pultizers for these pieces but I am proud of them.

My series on southeast Pierre and the buyout

Part 1: “Cities update sewers since 1997“

Part 2: “Empty lots abundant in southeast Pierre“

Part 3: “Searching for a new ‘normal’ in southeast Pierre”

My first series, before the releases were increased and the communities went into flood-mode

Part 1: “Gates open, more water coming”

Part 2: “Water approaches record in Lake Oahe

Part 3: “High water may affect summer in Pierre”

Other favorites

“Hundreds report to help cause”

“Homeless with house payment”

“Marion’s Garden builds up”

“Mayors battle river for cities”

“Thune tours Frontier Road”

“USGS: The real numbers guys”

Photo courtesy of Austin Kaus, The Mitchell Daily Republic.

Anything but peaceful

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Two friends meeting on a sun-soaked Saturday morning. The green landscape and twittering birds trick you into thinking this is a magical place. You want to believe it is. But, on the other side of the trees, is devastation – homes submerged by the Missouri River’s wrath. The setting is anything but peaceful.