TNT (the AC/DC song, not the television channel)
About a week ago, I interviewed our new Convention and Visitors Bureau director who said she wanted people to stop asking where Statesboro was when people mentioned the town.
On Monday and Tuesday, she got her wish, though probably not the way she wanted people to find out.
You see, around 9:15 Monday morning, a man and his wife took his former attorney hostage in his office in downtown Statesboro. As word of the hostage situation spread, more and more media outlets began to converge on our little town to cover the crisis. In fact, two of my coworkers were on the national news, one on CNN and the other on FOX News, despite the fact I was the first reporter on the scene.
At about 9:30 on Monday, Chief Bossman walked into my cubicle and said there were police officers outside with guns and bullet proof vests on and I should go see what was going on.
The reporter in me was exicted. Guns and bullet proof vests are the things Pulitzers (or at least Peabody Awards) are made of. The rational, sane part of me looked at Chief Bossman and said "All I've got is a pen and a note pad. Don't you think I need a little more if the police have bullet proof vests on?"
He told me to be careful and sent me on my way.
As luck would have it, the police were stationed about a block from my office, so I walked up the street to the scene and saw two officers standing at either end of a building, both with guns drawn and looking intense.
I made eye contact with the officer near the back of the building and made a motion to ask if it was alright if I came up to talk to him. He motioned for me to walk towards the back of the building and then cross the street to talk to him.
When I got there, I asked what was happening. He told me there was a hostage situation inside one of the offices across the street from the courthouse. I stood with the officer (for the life of me, I can't remember his name) and listened in on his police radio as the instructed the hostage takers to answer the phone to talk to the negotiator.
After about 15 minutes, the officer said I could probably get a better view if I went up to the front of the building (but on the other side of the street.) I did that and stood over there, looking cautiously at the front of the building where I saw a car parked in front of the office as a baracade.
Then, the officer at the front of the building told me I may want to move as there was a chance I could be caught in the crossfire if the hostage takers came out firing. That was enough of a warning for me to back away quickly and find a safer place to stand.
At around 11 a.m., the call went out to send all media to City Hall where I'd spend the next 12 hours milling around, waiting for press conferences and basically hoping something would happen. I met the Savannah media people and basically waited around for something that wasn't going to happen that day.
At around 5 p.m., I went back to the office and wrote a couple stories about the days events and listened to one of our reporters being interviewed on CNN. (A surreal experience. Making it even better is they misidentified him on the screen, calling him "Jack" instead of "Jake.")
As the standoff dragged on, the gallows humor of journalists began to take hold of the throng of media assembled. We began speculating what kind of headline we would use if the attorney, named Michael Hostilo, didn't make it out. (I think media people have such a twisted sense of humor because they need a defense mechinism against the crap they see so often.)
Quick note: If you're easily offended, skip the next paragrah. You've been warned.
After tossing out a few suggestions, one of the local television reporters suggested "Hostilo-Vista" (I know, we're all going to Hell. But it's funny (the joke, not the going to Hell part.))
Finally, after a 10 p.m. news conference (carried live by at least Fox News and maybe others) I went back to the office, updated a few stories and went home for the night, hoping nothing would happen before I got back there around 7:30.
Unfortunatley for me, something did happen. At 6 a.m., the two suspects and the hostage had come out, apparently surrendering. Something happend (no one knows officially) and gunshots were exchanged. No one was hurt, but the hostage-takers retreated back into the office.
When I got there at 7:30 and found out what happened, I was disappointed I wasn't there for it, even if I wasn't be able to see anything.
Finally, at 10 a.m., police announced the hostage-takers surrendered and the hostage was unharmed. Statesboro's 15 minutes of fame was over. The media trucks all left and by Wednesday morning, you wouldn't have known anything out of the ordinary had ever happened.
Have a great weekend all.
On Monday and Tuesday, she got her wish, though probably not the way she wanted people to find out.
You see, around 9:15 Monday morning, a man and his wife took his former attorney hostage in his office in downtown Statesboro. As word of the hostage situation spread, more and more media outlets began to converge on our little town to cover the crisis. In fact, two of my coworkers were on the national news, one on CNN and the other on FOX News, despite the fact I was the first reporter on the scene.
At about 9:30 on Monday, Chief Bossman walked into my cubicle and said there were police officers outside with guns and bullet proof vests on and I should go see what was going on.
The reporter in me was exicted. Guns and bullet proof vests are the things Pulitzers (or at least Peabody Awards) are made of. The rational, sane part of me looked at Chief Bossman and said "All I've got is a pen and a note pad. Don't you think I need a little more if the police have bullet proof vests on?"
He told me to be careful and sent me on my way.
As luck would have it, the police were stationed about a block from my office, so I walked up the street to the scene and saw two officers standing at either end of a building, both with guns drawn and looking intense.
I made eye contact with the officer near the back of the building and made a motion to ask if it was alright if I came up to talk to him. He motioned for me to walk towards the back of the building and then cross the street to talk to him.
When I got there, I asked what was happening. He told me there was a hostage situation inside one of the offices across the street from the courthouse. I stood with the officer (for the life of me, I can't remember his name) and listened in on his police radio as the instructed the hostage takers to answer the phone to talk to the negotiator.
After about 15 minutes, the officer said I could probably get a better view if I went up to the front of the building (but on the other side of the street.) I did that and stood over there, looking cautiously at the front of the building where I saw a car parked in front of the office as a baracade.
Then, the officer at the front of the building told me I may want to move as there was a chance I could be caught in the crossfire if the hostage takers came out firing. That was enough of a warning for me to back away quickly and find a safer place to stand.
At around 11 a.m., the call went out to send all media to City Hall where I'd spend the next 12 hours milling around, waiting for press conferences and basically hoping something would happen. I met the Savannah media people and basically waited around for something that wasn't going to happen that day.
At around 5 p.m., I went back to the office and wrote a couple stories about the days events and listened to one of our reporters being interviewed on CNN. (A surreal experience. Making it even better is they misidentified him on the screen, calling him "Jack" instead of "Jake.")
As the standoff dragged on, the gallows humor of journalists began to take hold of the throng of media assembled. We began speculating what kind of headline we would use if the attorney, named Michael Hostilo, didn't make it out. (I think media people have such a twisted sense of humor because they need a defense mechinism against the crap they see so often.)
Quick note: If you're easily offended, skip the next paragrah. You've been warned.
After tossing out a few suggestions, one of the local television reporters suggested "Hostilo-Vista" (I know, we're all going to Hell. But it's funny (the joke, not the going to Hell part.))
Finally, after a 10 p.m. news conference (carried live by at least Fox News and maybe others) I went back to the office, updated a few stories and went home for the night, hoping nothing would happen before I got back there around 7:30.
Unfortunatley for me, something did happen. At 6 a.m., the two suspects and the hostage had come out, apparently surrendering. Something happend (no one knows officially) and gunshots were exchanged. No one was hurt, but the hostage-takers retreated back into the office.
When I got there at 7:30 and found out what happened, I was disappointed I wasn't there for it, even if I wasn't be able to see anything.
Finally, at 10 a.m., police announced the hostage-takers surrendered and the hostage was unharmed. Statesboro's 15 minutes of fame was over. The media trucks all left and by Wednesday morning, you wouldn't have known anything out of the ordinary had ever happened.
Have a great weekend all.
posted by Luke at 5:30 PM
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