I left the News-Herald office a little early last Thursday. We weren’t completely finished packaging pages and transmitting them via the Internet to our printer. But that’s okay. I occasionally duck out before the paper is finished “sending.” Our ad designer, Laurie, handles that aspect of the paper quite well without me peering over her shoulder.
I left early to relieve Publisher Deidre Kettunen at the Salvation Army Red Kettle at Gene’s Foods. We visited for a while and she headed out, pleased to have done her part for the Red Kettle campaign. I took over and rang the bell, happy to be done with the paper for the week. I enjoyed visiting with the folks coming and going. In between conversations, I thought about what I would write about in Unorganized Territory the next week.
I was going to write a nice, light, cheerful column about Christmas. I toyed with ideas until the unthinkable happened. I got a phone call from Laurie at the office. The emergency police scanner was going crazy. There was a shooting at the courthouse.
In a second, everything had changed. I set aside the bell and headed to my car. At the courthouse I stood in the bitter cold wind, trying to figure out how to cover the unfolding story. As I watched, ambulances arrived one after another. I was sick with concern for those inside. As I watched, Carah Thomas arrived from WTIP, to join me in shocked silence until we mustered up the courage to try to get inside the courthouse to do our job.
We weren’t allowed inside long, of course. Cook County Sheriff Mark Falk chased us out with a promise to call with details. We headed back to our respective offices with the sketchy details we had to update our web pages and the Boreal Access news page. The despair didn’t go away as more details were released.
True to his word, Sheriff Falk called and shared all the information he could. The sick feeling remained as I learned who the victims were and who the shooter was.
I know all of them. We all do. It’s a tiny town when it comes to a tragedy.
But it’s also a compassionate community. I’m proud of the reaction of most of our citizens. Despite the shock, most people have been calm and caring to all who have been hurt. I’m proud that our community has formed a protective cocoon around the central parties in this tragedy.
As a small-town journalist, I was amazed at the aggressive tactics of the regional television and radio news teams and the daily newspaper reporters. In their quest for a breaking story, they tried to pin down anyone who would comment on the shooting, on the trial that had just ended, on the character of everyone involved. They complained that they couldn’t find anyone who would talk to them.
I should feel bad for my fellow journalists. I understand that they have deadlines to meet and time to fill and TV viewers and readers who want a story. But I don’t feel bad for them, because I’m also a member of this community.
The News-Herald has to cover this story, as it has covered many other tragedies in its 120-year history. But after the paper is printed and delivered and read by our friends and neighbors, we still live here. Unlike the regional news crews that rushed here to cover the story, circling like sharks, and then leaving when the story is over, we aren’t going anywhere. This is our home and we know and care deeply about all of the people who have been so terribly hurt by this crisis.
And although we spent the week uncovering the complicated details of the courthouse shooting—or perhaps because we spent the week writing that painful news—I still want to share a Christmas message. Not the silly holiday greeting I intended. No, I want to remind us all of the most important Christmas message—Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men.
May we all find peace in the days to come.
Peace is not something you wish for. It’s something you make. Something you do. Something you are. And something you give away.
Robert Fulghum
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