News Reporting in Muskoka

THE REALITIES WE CAN NOT ESCAPE, BUT IF WE COULD

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

SUZANNE USED TO ASK ME, WHILE I WAS WORKING FOR THE LOCAL PRESS, IF THE NEWS OF THE DAY EVER DEPRESSED ME. AT THE TIME, THE ONLY THING THAT REALLY DEPRESSED ME WAS SOME OF THE FOLKS WHO WORKED IN THE MANAGEMENT OF THOSE PAPERS. THE REPORTERS AND PHOTOGRAPHERS WERE A PRETTY TIGHT KNIT COMMUNITY, AND THIS INCLUDED OTHER NEWSPAPER STAFF FROM THE COMPETING PUBLICATIONS. WE HANDLED OUR STRESS LIKE MOST OTHER REPORTERS. A LOT OF TIME WAS SPENT AT THE LOCAL WATERING HOLE. NOW I'M NOT SUGGESTING THAT BOOZE WAS EVER OUR ANSWER, TO DEALING WITH THE PROBLEMS OF THE DAY, BUT A SLOWLY CONSUMED PINT, LISTENING TO JAZZ, WATCHING OUT THE WINDOWS OVER THE MUSKOKA RIVER, WAS JUST PERFECT AFTER A DAY ON THE NEWS HUSTINGS. IF WE HAD A BAD DAY, PARTICULARLY ON TUESDAY NIGHTS, WHEN THE HERALD-GAZETTE WAS "PUT TO BED," (SENT TO BE PRINTED), BRACEBRIDGE'S RIVERSIDE INN WAS THE PLACE TO RETREAT. STRANGELY ENOUGH, IT WAS THE PLACE WE FIRST HEARD ABOUT THE SHOOTING DEATH OF JOHN LENNON. I REMEMBER BRANT SCOTT, MYSELF AND PHOTOGRAPHER HAROLD WRIGHT, TOASTING LENNON FOR MOST OF THAT NIGHT, HUMMING SOME OF HIS MOST MEMORABLE SONGS.

IF IT HAD BEEN A SORT OF MIXED WEEK, WITH A MINOR AMOUNT OF FRUSTRATION, WE WOULD FIND OURSELVES HOLED-UP AT THE HOLIDAY HOUSE, ON DOMINION STREET. A BAD DAY. THE HOTEL PATTERSON. AN AWFUL DAY, THE ALBION HOTEL BY THE TRACKS IN BRACEBRIDGE. BUT THE UNDENIABLE TRUTH WAS, WE DID REQUIRE WIND-DOWN PLACES TO RETREAT. MUCH LIKE I NEED THIS BOGLAND, AT BIRCH HOLLOW TODAY.

WHEN I HEAR THE MORNING NEWS, THESE DAYS, MIUCH OF IT SEEMING TO POINT TO EITHER WORLD WAR OR ECONOMIC CALAMITY, I THINK BACK TO THOSE REPORTING DAYS, AND THE KIND OF TURMOIL WE ENDURED TO GET A MODEST PAY CHECK. I'VE WONDERED MANY TIMES IF THE JOB WAS WORTH IT…..CONSIDERING THE DOWN TIME WE NEEDED IN THESE LOCAL WATERING HOLES. EVEN IF WE WENT FOR A ROUND OF GOLF, OUR BAGS WERE LOADED FULL OF BEER AND WHISKY, SHOULD THE GOING GET TOUGH. WHEN YOU WATCH WHAT REPORTERS ARE COVERING TODAY, IN THE WORLD'S MANY HOT SPOTS, WELL SIR, I HAVE NO DESIRE TO SWITCH PLACES WITH THEM. IN COMPARISON, OUR JOBS ON A WEEKLY PUBLICATION, DON'T EVEN MAKE THE SAME SCALE, AS WAR CORRESPONDENTS; BRAVELY FACING POTENTIAL DEATH EVERY DAY THEY ATTEND THESE TUMULTUOUS ZONES, WE HEAR ABOUT IN CRISIS, ALMOST DAILY. AND IT'S GETTING WORSE.

I KNOW THAT I WOULD STAND AT ACCIDENT AND FIRE SCENES, WHERE THERE HAD BEEN A LOSS OF LIFE, AND FEEL AS IF I WAS THE POOREST CHOICE FOR A NEWSPAPER REPORTER. I'VE HAD OCCASIONS WHERE I'D STEP THROUGH BLOOD AT SOME AWFUL HIGHWAY CARNAGE, AND SEE THE BODIES STILL IN THE CARS, BEFORE THE TARPS COULD BE POSITIONED. THERE'S A POINT WHERE ADRENALIN KIND OF PUSHES THE BODY AND MIND THROUGH THE EVENT, BUT THE COLLAPSE WILL COME WHEN IT ALL SINKS IN……THAT THERE ARE NO SURVIVORS. I CAN REMEMBER BEING AT THE SCENE OF A POLICE SHOOTING, AND HAVING TO TAKE PHOTOGRAPHS OF OFFICERS USING RAKES TO SIFT THROUGH THE SNOW, TO FIND THE BULLET CASINGS. A PICTURE FELL OUT OF A BOOK THE OTHER DAY, OF AN IMAGE I CAPTURED ON THAT BITTER WINTER DAY….AND I SAW WHAT I HADN'T BEFORE. THE OFFICERS LOOKING BACK AT ME WITH SUCH CONTEMPT, THAT SOME GHOUL HAD THE GALL TO HIGHLIGHT THIS AWFUL MOMENT IN AN OFFICER'S CAREER. I HATED EVERY MOMENT I WAS OUT THERE, AS I SIDED WITH THEM. I WANTED TO KICK MY ASS, BUT LIKE THEM, I HAD A JOB TO DO, AND IF I TURNED UP AT THE NEWSPAPER WITHOUT THAT IMAGE ON FILM, WELL, THEN I WAS GOING TO LOSE A CAREER I THOUGHT I LIKED.

ON THIS DAY, I HATED MY JOB. I HATED THAT WHAT MY NEWSPAPER NEEDED, TO WIN THE LOCAL CIRCULATION WAR, WAS A PICTURE LIKE THIS FOR THE FRONT PAGE. YES, IT WAS THE PUBLIC'S RIGHT TO KNOW, BUT THAT COULD HAVE BEEN IN EDITORIAL COPY, WITHOUT THE NECESSITY OF ME JAMMING A CAMERA AT SUCH A SENSITIVE SCENE AS WAS UNFOLDING. ON TOP OF THE RAW EMOTION OF THE SCENE, MY FILM KEPT SNAPPING APART IN THE BITTER JANUARY COLD, AND I HAD TO KEEP JUMPING BACK IN MY CAR, TO PUT IN ANOTHER ROLL. THEY WOULD JUST STOP RAKING AT THE SNOW, AND STARE AT ME, TO BASICALLY SHOW THEIR DISAPPROVAL THAT I WAS OUT THERE TO CAPTURE THE MISERY, OF A FALLEN OFFICER, AND A MOURNING POLICE FORCE. I THINK THIS OCCASION WAS A CAREER CHANGER FOR ME, BECAUSE I FOUND A WAY TO STAY AWAY FROM SCENES LIKE THIS, FROM THAT POINT. IT DOESN'T MEAN OUR PAPER STOPPED COVERING BREAKING NEWS. I JUST FOUND SOMEONE MORE FOCUSED AND DISCIPLINED THAN ME. LIKE A GOALIE WHO HAS TO ADMIT HE'S "PUCK SHY", I HAD TO LOOK AT MY OWN INNER CONFLICT, THAT COVERING SCENES WHERE DEATH HAS OCCURRED, WAS NOT IN MY LONG-TERM BEST INTERESTS. I DWELL ON STUFF. AND I WAS ALSO A FORMER GOALIE, WHO HAD NO PROBLEM, AFTER GETTING A SLAPSHOT IN THE THROAT, OF SAYING….WHEN I COULD FINALLY SPEAK, "YES, COACH, I AM PUCK SHY."

I WAS AT AN ACCIDENT SCENE, ONE SUMMER DAY, NEAR PORT CARLING. IT HAD BEEN A SINGLE CAR ROLL-OVER, WITH TWO FATALITIES. A CHILD, STRAPPED INTO A CAR SEAT SURVIVED. THERE WERE THREE LOCAL NEWS PHOTOGRAPHERS AT THE SCENE, TO DOCUMENT THIS TRAGIC ACCIDENT. A NEW REPORTER WAS IN THE THREESOME, AND SHE ARRIVED A SHORT TIME AFTER I DID. YOU COULD TELL SHE WAS EXCITED ABOUT WHAT AMOUNTED TO HER FIRST ON-SITE COVERAGE, OF A MOTOR VEHICLE ACCIDENT. SHE HAD NO IDEA WHAT WAS UNDER THE TARP IN FRONT OF US. UNTIL THE WIND BLEW A CORNER OFF THE BODIES BENEATH. I TRIED TO WARN HER ABOUT GETTING TOO CLOSE. WELL, AS WE HAVE ALL HAD OUR MOMENTS RUNNING INTO THE BUSH, SHE HAD HERS. I'D ALWAYS GET WOBBLY KNEES AND FEEL FAINT, AND I WAS TYPICALLY A GOOD DISTANCE AWAY FROM THESE TERRIBLE SCENES. I DID GET USED TO THE EVENTS AFTER A FEW YEARS ON THE JOB. I JUST WASN'T THE FIRST TO VOLUNTEER TO COVER THE ACCIDENTS, WHEN WE HEARD ABOUT THEM ON THE POLICE SCANNER WE KEPT IN OUR OFFICE.

EVERY NOW AND AGAIN, I WILL THINK I SHOULD MAKE A NEWSPAPER COME-BACK. SEEK OUT AN EDITOR'S ROLE SOMEWHERE OR OTHER. I'M JUST NOT SURE WHETHER OR NOT, I COULD SLIDE BACK INTO THAT ROLE AGAIN….ESPECIALLY SINCE I'VE SPENT SO MANY YEARS NOW, WRITING FEATURE MATERIAL AND BIOGRAPHIES, AND FELT VERY LITTLE REASON TO RETREAT DOWN TO A LOCAL WATERING HOLE TO ADJUST TO THAT DAY'S NEW REALITY. I HAVE ALREADY BEEN OVER IN "THE BOG" THIS MORNING, CHECKING OUT THE DEER TRACKS THROUGHOUT THE WOODS, WHERE THE WINDING PATH CUTS IN AND OUT OF THE MORNING BRIGHTNESS…..THAT PLAY OF LIGHT AND SHADOW ARTIST'S LOVE TO INTERPRET IN SUCH WINTER SCENES AS THIS.

I HAVE ALWAYS WONDERED IF I MIGHT HAVE BEEN TOUCHED BY POST TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER, IN THOSE YEARS COVERING MISERY AND VIOLENCE, ON THE BREAKING NEWS AND CRIME BEAT. I'D MUCH SOONER HAVE BEEN VISITING SIGNIFICANT FOLKS IN OUR COMMUNITY, WORKING ON INTERESTING BIOGRAPHIES. I FOUND IT HARD TO WRITE THE HEAVY, HEART-BREAKING NEWS STORIES, ESPECIALLY WHEN IT CAME TO THE FACE TO FACE CONTACT WITH FAMILY THAT USUALLY CAME IN THE WEEKS IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING THE NEWS COVERAGE. SOME WANTED TO PUNCH ME OUT. OTHERS WANTED TO KNOW WHAT THE SCENE WAS LIKE, AND IF THEIR FRIENDS OR KIN HAD SUFFERED. I ACTUALLY PREFERRED THE THREATS OF BODILY HARM, BECAUSE IT WAS SO UNBELIEVABLY DIFFICULT TO REPLAY WITH SENSITIVITY TO DETAIL, THE CARNAGE I'D STOOD OVER. THERE WAS NO WAY OF MAKING THAT PICTURE ANY LESS GROTESQUE THAN IT APPEARED IN MY CAMERA LENS. SOME FOLKS MAY HAVE MISTAKENLY THOUGHT REPORTERS GOT A RUSH OUT OF BEING WAVED THROUGH POLICE BARRICADES TO DO THEIR JOB. I NEVER ONCE FELT PRIVILEGED TO DO SO….BUT ALWAYS FELT THE SAME SENSE OF MISERY AND HELPLESSNESS AS ALL THE FIRST RESPONDERS.

EVERY NOW AND AGAIN SUZANNE WILL PONDER ABOUT MY MINDLESS DRIFT, WHILE ON A WALK THROUGH THIS LOVELY SOLITUDE OF THE BOG. SHE'LL OCCASIONALLY CHECK ON ME, WHEN I'M WORKING IN MY OFFICE, IF I'M OKAY, AS IF SHE KNOWS I HAVE MY OWN TROUBLESOME FLASHBACKS. TRUTH IS, I'VE RECONCILED MYSELF ABOUT THOSE DAYS, DOING WHAT REPORTERS DO FOR A PAY CHEQUE. I NEVER ONCE WENT TO AN ACCIDENT SCENE OUT OF A SENSE OF ADVENTURE, OR FOR AN ON-THE-JOB THRILL. I NEEDED THE MONEY. I COULDN'T SAY I WOULDN'T GO. I COULDN'T ARRIVE BACK IN THE NEWSROOM, ESPECIALLY ON OCCASIONS WHEN THE PAPER HAD BEEN HELD BACK FROM PRINTING, FOR THAT NEWS PHOTOGRAPH, OR I WOULD HAVE BEEN UNEMPLOYED IN MY FIRST YEAR AS A CUB REPORTER. FUNNY WHAT BEING BROKE CAN INSPIRE. I WROTE BECAUSE I'M A WRITER. I WAS A PHOTOGRAPHER BECAUSE ALL REPORTERS HAD TO HAVE A CAMERA AROUND THEIR NECKS. WE WERE A SMALL, WEEKLY PAPER. EVERYONE'S JOB HAD MORE THAN ONE DISCIPLINE. REPORTERS OFTEN WERE FORCED TO COLLECT OVERDUE ACCOUNTS AND EVEN DELIVER THE NEWSPAPERS TO LOCAL OUTLETS.

I'VE BEEN OUT OF DAY TO DAY NEWS GATHERING FOR THE LOCAL PRESS, SINCE THE SUMMER OF 1990. WHILE I HAVE WRITTEN ACTIVELY FOR THE PRESS EVER SINCE, I HAVE NEVER RETURNED, OR SHOWN ANY DESIRE TO RE-ESTABLISH MYSELF AS A FRONT-LINE NEWS GATHERER. I WILL NEVER FORGET THOSE YEARS, AND THE TRULY TERRIBLE EVENTS I HAD TO COVER, BUT I THINK NOW, THAT IT WAS AN IMPORTANT IMMERSION IN THE REALITIES, I MIGHT HAVE, AS A CONVENIENT TRUTH, INSULATED MYSELF FROM……AS JUST A WRITER IN THIS RESIDENCE…..NEXT TO THIS HEALING PLACE, WHERE I BASK IN ITS GENTLE SOLITUDE, AS I HAVE ALREADY SOUGHT OUT, AND ENJOYED THIS MORNING.