I’d pretty much given up on writing about TV News, but this morning’s slaying of a news crew on live television has compelled me to log in on this long-forgotten blog. Forgive me if I ramble…

If you’re a member of a TV news team, you know what a small business it really is. Reporters and photographers leapfrog from station to station, often crossing paths with each other several times over as they further their quest for a better job. Long before the internet made our world a smaller place, everyone knew everybody.

If you’re NOT a member of a TV News team, you probably hold us in low regard. Night after night, we preen, pose and over-emote on the edge of someone else’s worst day ever. It is, by far, our least admirable trait.

But despite what you see in the movies, we aren’t all vultures. I’ve shed many tears on the scene of tragedies and so has every reporter I’ve ever worked beside. Rarely do you see those tears on the air and when you do, it always seems fake. But heartache and empathy lurk just under the surface of our implacable facades. If we seem heartless, it’s little more than trick photography. Sure, we act tough and trade rude jokes, but it’s only a defense mechanism, a protective cloak we don when standing so close to the fire.

I did not know reporter Alison Parker or photographer Adam Ward, but I know their type. Morning live shot news crews are, by definition, relaxed and affable. You have to be when you spend five dawns a week pointing a spotlight at something palatable for the morning masses. Bake sales, blood drives, blimp conventions … those frothy few minutes of fun you watch out of the corner while getting dressed don’t happen by themselves. News crews rise in the wee hours, travel many miles and splay out truckloads of gear to make it all seem spontaneous. It isn’t. Just as much planning goes into these soft-boiled segments as does a late breaking apartment fire, often more. And the people who produce these disposable live shots are, very often, the best of our business. From the torrent of information spilling out in the wake of this killing, Alison Parker and Adam Ward were among those numbers.

So what’s my point? I don’t know that I have one. Certainly the live murder of a TV news crew is no more tragic than any of the other senseless murders that seem to be plaguing our planet. But this one hits home. I have staged thousands of  morning live shots. I’ve daydreamed half-asleep under those white hot lights and learned to love the colleagues there beside me. I’ve fended off weirdos and looky-loos while shielding my lens from the rising sun. We news crews often felt abandoned at these stagnant broadcasts, but never felt like the sitting ducks we so obviously were. This world is indeed a fucked-up place.

If you’re the praying type, do me a favor and lift up the broken hearts in Roanoke. If you’re a news crew out in the field, watch your back. If you’re simply a curious sort surfing the web, take a moment to remember these friends I’ve never met. And if you’re still reading this, please accept my sincere thanks.

It’s the only way I know to heal.