"Gore Wins! Dewey Wins!"

"Great news! All twelve of the trapped miners have been found alive."

"What! Now you are saying only one of the miners survived?"

Flirtatious: "Flirting with the Truth?"

Real Mood: Painfully Reflective

Prediction: All the mistakes made reporting the "Sago" mine disaster will be made again.

One of my concerns about BLOGGING (long before I decide to jump into the fray) is playing itself out in Tallmansville, West Virginia.   Without policing,  how are we, bloggers, going to keep from starting harmful rumors? But as we are seeing, the media doesn't need BLOGGERS to blow it. This is a very sad opportunity for me to preach to students. I really don't want to preach.  But it would clearly be negligent to just ignore it.

In case it's not obvious, my tongue is coming out of my cheek for this posting.  It may seem odd, but this story will likely catch my eyes and ears even if it's a mere mention on the obit page.

Reasons? First, one of the most fascinating tales I was ever able to tell on TV was about living a mile under ground in mine tunnels.  Second, West Virginia is the last of the 50 states I visited. While trivial by comparison to victim's families, I have a vested interest. I think that's lesson ONE coming out of this "Media Mess."

1.) Ask yourself! Who am I talking to?

The lesson is simple. Without capitulation, without compromising the facts or the story, without "walking on egg shells," ask the question, " Who am I talking to?" The people most interested in what you have to say are those closest involved. They are your active audience. What you say will have the greatest impact on them.

Lesson Two?

2.) There is no "I" or "Me" in media.

Orthographically that's clearly not true. But if we going to be responsible about what we report, it has to be true. I remember an early day experience in radio where we are reporting on the aftermath of a nightclub riot. We have a reporter just outside the crime scene tape at the command post.  The anchor asks the reporter if there is anything new? The reporter comes on air and relates what I recall to be a suspect confession.

"Wow, we've got an exclusive."

I know we report the story most of the day, and finally someone in the newsroom says, "Wow, I wonder how BillyBob got that story? "

"Hey BillyBob, how'd you get that story?"

"I read his lips." 

He reads his lips from an estimated 100 yards away. No, he is not trained to read lips.

Yeah, it is BillyBob who comes up with the story? But it is the whole newsroom that fails to ask him how he gets it. And for the sake of lesson, let's expand the scenario.   Suppose the reporter "overhears" a police officer joking about an alleged  confession? The reporter passes it on. Does that officer shoulder any portion of the blame for a false report?  Suppose you are in your car driving to work. While  you are thinking about that board meeting you're headed to, you hear the tail end of the story.  As you are sitting down around the mahogany table, you say, " hey, you guys hear about that idiot who starts that night club riot?" If the suspect is innocent, are you then part of media? Just askin'?

The passion to be first with the story is ingrained in all of us. What we in the media (all of us) must force upon ourselves?  "Who says so? Who can I call to get this verified?  Are we sure she's credible? I'm going to do my best to make sure I've got this right before I tell anybody about it."

Lesson three?

3.) Don't waste time pointing fingers.

I am watching a lot of that in this scenario. Mine company officials, reporters, anchors, searchers are running around saying in essence, " well, he said it first, and that's why I said it, etc." Strange, but if we exhibit that same behavior in life's normal circumstances we are said to be what? Childish? Uh, huh.

Fourth lesson?

4.) Don't get caught up in the emotions of the event. I'll wrap my own knuckles on this one.  I was out driving around in a news car many years ago when I hear commotion on the police scanner.  Turns out I'm just a few blocks away from a barricaded suspect.   I'm so close that when I get there they've yet to set up a perimiter.  So I'm standing about fifty feet from the front door of the suspect's house.  He is reported to be drunk and threatening to shoot anyone that gets near him.

I have a man walk up to me shaking. He is just standing there shaking and staring.

"You know the guy?"

"He's my brother.  He can be a real jerk when he drinks, but he's a nice guy when he's sober."

"These guys arn't going to hurt your brother. They are just going to take their time and wait him out.  They'll talk to him on the phone, get him to settle down. It's going to be alright."

Seconds later the man comes out the front door holding a rifle at what I would say is about 15 degrees up from the ground. He is told to drop it, but instead inches it up to about 20 degrees. The officers then do what they are trained to do. The man has more than thirty bullet wounds. Paramedics work on him, but it is clearly for show.

The suspect is quickly tossed into the back of an ambulance, and driven away. There I am standing next to a brother I just told in essence, "everything's going to be okay!"

Fortunately I hadn't said that on the air yet.

I'm going to stop here before lessons from experience start sounding like points of pomposity. Our human nature will always drive us to tell the story before it's ready.  But looking back with some perspecitve on this event, this day may help diminish some future victim's pain, and renew a passion for responsible journalism. Remember, no "ME" and no "I" in media. As I'm want to say, "They is us."