Now, here's the thing. I started work Sept. 28, 2009. Pender County hadn't had a murder case all year. A day later ... No. 1. It was in Hampstead. It's still unsolved. A month later there was one in Willard. They arrested a guy for that. In between, a popular teenager died in a surfing accident. He frammed into a fishing pier. Then, Dec. 27, the body of a 23-year-old woman was found by the side of the road.
I'm getting too used to going to visitations to talk to family members. I know how to get the photo of the deceased and it's amazing how many people can still be found listed in the phone book.
This has always been the worst part of the job for me. I remember early on going to the sight of an ugly, bloody, deadly accident. People had gather to gape. But I had a camera out and was taking photos. "Look at that," one person said. "She's actually taking pictures."
That hurt.
I covered Theodore Bundy, and he knew my name. That was spooky.
In Lake City, FL, I was armed with my camera as I boarded a Sheriff's Dept. boat to retrieve a bloated, floating body in one of the lakes that gave the town its name. Halfway there we were ... let's just say we were feeling ill and showing it over the side of the boat. We went back to shore before reaching the body. I stayed there.
It is said I followed my journalist father's footsteps. But he cover unions and Adelai Stevenson's two runs for president. He covered congress and the Nixon, Ford and Carter administrations. It may have stunk, at times. But he didn't have to get rowed back to shore.
