Death is never easy. Death is hard, unkind, and always sudden. For a reporter, death is supposed to be easy. It's supposed to come and go, with no emotion, no after thought, tell the story and move on, but death, death is never easy. Today a community memeber died and reporting on it is hard. Thinking about it is hard, lose, even with a person I didn't know is hard and when you know every detail and are supposed to report on the situation in an unbiased manner, death becomes harder. But that's what I have to do, make a clean solid story about the death of a women I now know every detail about yet had never spoken to her in my life. It is a curse and a blessing of the job, being able to get all the details. If there were one thing though, one thing that I would tale out of this job, one thing I would never have to think about, write about, or dig into, it would be death. The saddest and hardest part about this one, she didn't have to die. A freak accident caused this one. At least when the person is sick or old, the blow doesn't come as hard, but when it could have been prevented, stopped, changed in some way, death becomes the hardest thing in the world to accept. Today death made a visit to Wilshire Tower, and it come as hard and fast as it could.

Blog 6

I was at home on what seemed like normal day when I got a very strange call. It was a tip. Now normally I would be all over it, but that wasn't the first tip of the day, in fact it was the fourth. The weirdest part, they were all for different events. I know this town in crazy but this was above the norm. So I got here i sat for some odd reason thinking about what I was going to do next. As I started to get ready for one I got a call for another, and then another. Sitting down now I decide to wait for yet another call. The air feels think and humid, the sky grayer than usual. I walk over to the window pulling the curtain to the side to get a better look. At that moment a loud crack breaks through the sky and my phone starts to ring yet again. The fifth tip of the day. I walk over to pick it up, but before i get there the power goes out. Great. I start looking for a flash light. Do I own a flash light? I am a reporter, I should own a flash light. As i stumble around the cramped space that I cal home, a glow seems to be coming from the window. As I listen more carefully I here frantic cries. I rush toward the window and see the Mosque on fire. Not only on fire but in complete flames, a smoke stake rising as high as the tower. Guess it's time to go. Grabbing my rain jacket I rush out the door. It was going to be a long day.

Carnival II

It seems to be a great day for reporting! Madness has ensued on the carnival, no surprise there. This whole town is complete madness, its getting hard to keep up with all the crazy that happens. Life seems to be getting harder and harder, keeping up becomes almost impossible. That’s the downfall of being a reporter, and the upside, news, events, life, it never stops. All though I think for this town it’s a bit different, exceptional I would say. A political group has placed itself at the carnival and among being louder more disruptive then the carnival itself has started to drive people away, which in turns draws more people in. But as al of this is going on Dave is having some chicken melt down. Apparently more were delivered then ordered. But when it comes to Dave who knows what the whole story actually is. So I begin walking over to that scene of events. Yelling is an understatement. But like I said its Dave, and among having a drink or two in him, he sometimes doesn’t seem all there. Then the real madness starts. The chickens are loose, people are running everywhere and making the chickens run everywhere as well. I need to move out of this damn town, but where would I get my excitement in life. I mean really who is the last person to be able to report on a bazaar carnival, Dave, and loose chickens. No one. And that’s why we are all still here I guess. Partly because of entrapment, I mean where else would we go, and the other part, the bigger part, we love being here, at least I do. It makes me want to throw myself off a cliff at point, don’t get me wrong, but this town has become my life, this town is a life.