Spending Christmas Day 2004 interviewing a man whose son had just killed the man’s mother in a psychotic rage. Unopened presents lay scattered beneath the tree.
Covering the funeral of the three young Muslim girls swept out to sea while swimming in the Rockaways in 2001. The family’s grief, and the kindness their uncle showed the press.
The 2002 Dyker Heights fire that wiped out a family of seven, including five children. Six of the family members were found huddled together. Watching as Mayor Bloomberg did his best to comfort a grieving relative.
All the other fires. The fire where a Brooklyn man lost his fiancee and mother. The fire that killed a firefighter trapped under a burning mattress. The fire where three Bravest jumped to their deaths.
‘Tell all I see them on the other side. It wasn’t bad. I just went to sleep. Jr. I love you.’ The West Virginia miners’ families ecstasy turning to hysterics as they learned their loved ones hadn’t survived after all. Huddling around the fire with all the other reporters for warmth.
Sept. 11, 2001. Looking at the burnt-out hulks of the towers that night with the Times’ Daryl Kahn and thinking, now I know what hell looks like.
Running in from Queens on that crystal-clear, beautiful, horrible autumn day. Talking to the kids who saw people jump to their deaths. Listening to grief-striken relatives desperate to find their missing family members. Interviewing all the people oh so eager to give blood.
Touring Ground Zero with Dick Cheney and George Pataki and trying not to get sick on the police boat.
Taking dictation from a reporter in Iraq just after the Marines had penetrated into Baghdad. He wasn’t able to use any lights in case they’d be spotted.
The three boys who asphyxiated in Camden, N.J. car trunk as police searched for them. The four boys from Collingswood, N.J. who were starved by their adoptive parents.
Walking around Union Square with Xu Wenli, who until a few days prior had been China’s most famous political prisoner.
Shaking hands with Sting. Covering Prince Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles visit to New York. Shaking hands with David Wright. Shaking hands with Roger Clemens at a hotel opening in Florida.
All the different sporting events. Covering the 2001 Super Bowl in Tampa. Covering the 2005 ALDS in Yankee Stadium. Covering Game 4 of the 2004 ALCS from the Back Page bar, getting fan reaction. Watching David Ortiz hit that home run. Watching Game 5 of the 2004 ALCS while on assignment in Brooklyn, waiting for someone to come home.
All the different stakeouts I was sent on. Hanging out with the Post’s Matt McDermott, Erin Calabrese and Tatiana Deligiannakis on stakeout. The Mexican standoffs: neither of our editors would let us go if the opposition was still there. “Pinky-swearing” that we wouldn’t double-back to the scene once both of us left.
Searching for sharks while on a boat in Florida. Searching for witnesses to a shark attack in Virginia Beach. “It was so much like [Jaws], with the pool of blood.”
Covering the space shuttle disaster at Kennedy Space Center in Florida. Wakening to a beautiful scene overlooking the water in my hotel — were the birds pelicans?
Covering the D.C.-area sniper around Washington and Virgina with S., who worked for another news organization. Running across Cross Bay Boulevard with the Times’ Charlie LeDuff to cover the crash of American Airlines 587. Meeting S. for the first time at a hospital near the scene.
Covering the 2006 Little League World Series in Williamsport. Feeling so bad for the kid who made that base-running blunder to end a game.
Hiking up stairs in all the public housing projects around the city to interview crime victims and neighbors. The front entrance doors that don’t work. The graffiti. The smell of urine in the stairwells.
Talking to David Blaine. Interviewing the elderly Auschwitz survivor who rolled up her sleeve to show me the number tattooed on her arm. Teasing then-candidate Mike Bloomberg on his accent.
Camping out in front of Nicholas Berg’s house. His father’s anguish. Hoisting back beers with the Post’s Dan Mangan and a few CBSers.
Talking to a witness by telephone just hours after an Israeli bulldozer had rolled over, crushed and killed Rachel Corrie in the Palestinian terrorities.
Covering Hurricane Ivan in Alabama and Florida with Debbie Egan-Chin. Nearly running out of gas and having to sleep in our SUV. Nearly driving into a traffic light that was dangling windshield-high in the middle of a darkened intersection.
The RNC protests. The May Day marches. The anti-war demonstrations.
Getting an exclusive interview with Brian David Mitchell’s son on the day Elizabeth Smart was found.
Hanging out at a strip club in Tampa for work. Confronting two Baltimore Ravens players we met there. Hanging out at a strip club in Queens for work, where a police officer had been drinking before killing three people in a deadly DWI crash. Interviewing strippers at some nudie club in Chelsea.
The British murder suspect who bantered with us in the press corps during his perp walk after being nabbed in Central Park. All the other perp walks. How the waiting seemed interminable.
The construction accidents. The immigrants who work so hard here and send so much of their earning back home. Only to be killed by acts of senseless violence or by their dangerous jobs.
Being honored to be able to tell their stories.
Stand proud.
Yeah, it certainly was an interesting job. Nothing like New York for stuff going on and you basically were told to go there when it happenned.
Derek, you sure know how to write!
Outstanding post, Derek. One of your best.
You would make almost anyone want to be a reporter. And in addition to what you wrote, your private life was pretty exciting, too…..
A powerful post, Derek.