A letter to my photobomber

So there I am at 5:00 doing a live shot on one of the most disturbing killings I have covered. 

I wonder how the victim's family and friends will feel if they are hearing some of the details for the first time.

That is the moment you decide to show off your dance moves behind me. 

Yes you made me trip on my words, yes you made me struggle to try to tell this sad story in a clear  and concise way. You made the TV newslady struggle. 

Our team had spent the past several hours hustling to do the news justice, but I guess you think our efforts are nothing compared to your need to grab the spotlight.

Do you realize it wasn't just my work you are disrespecting but the work of a photojournalist, a producer, a manager, an engineer?

Do you think about the fact that your act sends a message the victim is less important then your ego?

If I were pouring concrete would you step in it?

 If I were sweeping a floor would you throw dirt on it? 

If I were serving a meal would you spit in it?

Was the chance to be on TV so really so exciting that you just didn't care about anyone but yourself?

If you were a young child I could understand, but whoever you are you are old enough to know better.

Remembering Randy

We have had a very emotional day.

Two years ago there was a story that touched us all at the News Station.

Sharon Budd and her family were traveling from Ohio through Pennsylvania when a rock smashed through her windshield nearly killing her.

It was a case that galvanized the public.

Budd was a breast cancer survivor, a teacher, a cheerleading coach. Her family was a picture perfect personification of Midwestern goodness. Her husband Randy appeared to be unshakable, always there for his wife as she fought for her life.

 Eventually a group of teens was arrested and convicted.

The case touched a nerve, how could this happen? The rolling hills of central Pennsylvania turned into a war zone by teens out for a night of mischief.

People wanted to show the Budds the best of our area.

Help was offered and accepted, meals, a house, a roaring motorcycle fundraiser.

Here is a link to the first story I did,

#Buddstrong Ride

I know first hand how tough it can be to care for someone with a head injury. The personality you knew is changed dramatically. It is frustrating and plays with your emotions.

The second time I interviewed Randy Budd I tried to warn him of this. I tried to explain how he would have to carve out space to take care of himself.

Randy became his wife's voice, her champion, a warm and charming man, he seemed so centered even when his world had been turned upside down.

He expressed his appreciation for the care we had taken telling his family's story.

After the Budds went home to Ohio, Randy stayed in touch with several of us mostly through Facebook. I would post something and Randy would often be one of the first to like it.

But things were not right in Randy's world. While Sharon learned to walk and talk her injuries kept her from having any independence.  A few weeks ago he wrote that she had gone back into rehab to try to develop some skills, but had not been successful.

Still there were smiling pictures, an anniversary dinner, a wedding, we wanted to believe the Budd's love could somehow conquer the awful situation.

Sunday morning WNEP's Nikki Krize called me, her voice breaking up.

The news was awful. Randy had taken his life.

Penn Live article

Normally we don't cover suicides, but this was not a normal situation. It is hard for me not to think of Randy as another victim of the rock attack.

When I write an obituary I look for moments of light and grace in the story of someone's life. Right now this feels too dark. I am haunted by the idea of Sharon alone without her husband.

I am pained to imagine how bleak things were for Randy.

There will be a legacy here, fences over freeways, compassion for caregivers, but for now the loss just hurts.