Breaking News and the TV Mom

We were on our way to a baby activity Monday morning when I heard about the shooting at the Navy Yard on the radio.  I immediately knew what this meant:

1. This would be a soul-breaking day too close to home.
2. I would be walking into wall-to-wall (no commercials) breaking news for hours and hours.
3. My bones would hurt when we're done.
4. I would not be able to get to work my normal route.  It goes right by the Navy Yard.
5. Traffic would be crazy.  I would need to leave early.
6. We would be fed something greasy and yummy.
7. I wouldn't be able to pump much. 
8. My boss would like to call me in early, but would not actually call, because it's difficult for Lily to be away from me for so long as it is.
9. I had forgotten that there would be no time to get snacks.  Damn it.  Tragic breaking news demands snacks.  Must feed soul sugar.

I decided we would go to the activity anyway and just stay for 30 minutes.  The staff apologized, because the performer would be a little late "due to, you know, the metro situation."   I clarified, "The shooting?"   There was only one other child running around on cushions very far from us.   I suppose I'm a realist.  It is what it is.  Not trying to shelter anyone from the reality of the world.  "Uh, yeah."  She nodded.  But, kids should be free to be kids and hot have to worry about adult problems, right?  I suppose that's what you get when your mom works in the news business.  I am starting to think that there can be a little too much real in reality.

Quickly slipping into "breaking news" mom, I noticed that I kept trying to pull Lily back to our table so that I could message people.  We only had a short time together, and I needed to put down my phone and enjoy this activity with her.  So, we danced, sang, listened to stories, and walked around.  Lily loved meeting new people, seeing babies and toddlers of all different developmental stages.

To change her diaper, we walked into the main room of the cafe, which was separated by swinging double doors, and the TV's were blaring the news.  The staff was watching some network.  Whatever it was, it wasn't my station.  I couldn't hide from the reality of what we do.  My adrenaline started to rise and I could feel my body move into breaking news mode.  Walking back into the activity, it was a little kid bubble that was sheltered from the reality of what was happening outside.  This was a happy place.  I wished we could stay and that what was happening wasn't happening.  But, I purposely parked in a 30 minute parking spot to make sure that we only stayed a little while.

I packed the baby up, to go coffee in hand, and we headed for home.  Enough time to nurse the baby, throw everything in the car and go.  The route that I normally take to work was shut down.  Helicopters were landing on the bridge from DC to VA.  So, I had to wind a bit through the city. There is no being late on a day like today.  My mom had asked if I would be home late.  This not being my first rodeo, I said nope, it will have winded down by quitting time.

I had heard in the car on the way to the activity that two people were presumed dead.  At the activity, I heard that four people were possibly dead.  At home, my mom said my station said three people were dead, but shortly after that, they were saying four.  These rising numbers and the delay in dissemination information in such a short period of time was telling.  This thing was far from over.  It was going to be a long day for everyone.

The shooting happened at 8:20am, and it was 11:10am when I walked into the News Transmission Control Room.  I deal with live shots via microwave, satellite, and fiber.  On days like this, lots of them.  We also work with LiveU, which is a multi-cell network transmitter that lets us get live from places we would have never gotten live from otherwise.  A busy day for one operator is typically three or more live shots.  At this point, there were six live shots with various reporters, interviews, and press conferences.  Three were LiveU (Navy Yard, Medstar Hosital, and Washington Hospital Center).  Two reporters were live near the Navy Yard via microwave.  One was live via satellite a little farther away from the Navy Yard.  Eventually, we would have set up seven microwave live shots (all in the direction of the Navy Yard), two LiveU's, and a satellite shot for the 5pm news. We usually pay for satellite time in 5-15 minute increments, which we have to call to book, but that shot was transmitting longer than my entire 8 hour shift.  It feels like one of those days where someone called and said just give us the window until further notice.

I wonder what Lily will think about my job in TV as she grows up.  After all, she grew from a little seed into a baby bean during a presidential election year.  I think a TV station is a pretty cool place to tour.  It's fast, exciting, and mysterious to the outside.  Like police officers and firefighters, we're the kind of people who don't evacuate.  We don't run from crazy shit--we run towards it. We ride towards the storm, instead of away from it.  What's that, a hurricane?  Let's get a hotel room to make sure that we're able to get on the air!  Every cell phone is now a potential live camera.  We're here no matter what, holiday, hurricanes, shootings, bombings, fire alarms, presidential inaugurations, marches on Washington, and all.

But on that crazy night, I drove by the Navy Yard on the way home.  I started to get excited about how I would get home to Lily more quickly today, since everyone stayed away.  Then, I realized the great traffic was due to the fact that 12 people were shot dead while they were doing what we do every day.  Just working.  My heart will be forever with them as I pass by.