Torn over an award

Richard Alan Hannon, a photographer for The Advocate of Baton Rouge, La., was honored today with the AP Photo of the Year award.

"I'm torn over getting a check for one of the saddest photos I've ever taken," he said at the podium.

Later, I spotted him standing alone and decided to go talk to him.

I was struck at how much he reminded me of Glenn Moore, our Tracy Press photo editor. He said he had been on assignment shortly after Hurricane Katrina hit. He had waded in deep water to get to the Louisiana Superdome in New Orleans, where he watched evacuees who were not allowed inside. He shot the photo of the dying woman on the other side of a glass atrium.

He never got her name. He's pretty sure he saw her die.

I told him that the policy at our newspaper is that we won't run photos of people in accidents if we find out they've died before we go to press.

He said his paper has the same policy. But when the editors saw the photo, they thought it was too powerful not to run.

I'm glad they broke the rules.

Behind the scenes of the police log

“If you don’t want it printed, don’t let it happen.”

That’s the motto of a newspaper in Colorado and, as Michael Gartner writes in his new book, “Outrage, Passion & Uncommon Sense,” the motto that good editors of good newspapers have lived by for generations.

I’ve said it myself to people who call demanding that their names be left out of the police log that we publish every day.

Of course, just because something appears in the police log doesn’t mean it happened, just that someone reported to the police that something happened. And the arrests that we list are just that — arrests for suspected felonies, not convictions.
At any rate, some people simply don’t like seeing their dirty laundry in print.
Others, on the other hand, relish reading about the woes of others, if only for their entertainment. They skim over the items until they find something they can take to their friends every day at coffee.
Like the one about the man who walked into the police station waving a videotape that he claimed contained evidence that someone had stolen from him. Turns out the videotape showed people stealing, all right. They took the man’s marijuana plants from his backyard.
Another was from a man who called to say he’d found another man’s underwear under his bed. Huh?
Sometimes I’ll get a call from someone who says, “Why do you print that stuff, anyway? Why don’t you just print the serious crimes?”
My stock answer is this: “Because the stupid stuff appears to represent most of what the police deal with every day — and what our taxes are paying for.”
Besides that, I don’t think it hurts to know a little of what goes on in the lives of the people who share our town.
I posted an item recently asking readers what they thought about the police log.
The first person to comment was a commuter on the Altamont Commuter Express train, who said “it’s part of what makes Tracy still feel like the small town it used to be — it adds character.”
Kind of like our Poker City history.
Another comment was a confession from a man wh searches through the log in the hopes that no relatives will be mentioned.
That reminds me of the reader who told me she regularly scans the log for her ex-husband’s antics.
The block captain for a Neighborhood Watch group in town wrote that he’s keenly interested in what’s going on in the log. He has some questions, too.
“The reports always begin, ‘Tracy Police Department officers responded to 210 calls for service Monday.’ How does the report get edited down to the five or 10 items readers see?
“Does someone who works for the Tracy Press go through all 210 calls and decide what to print? Does the public have access to all of this information? Does the PD withhold certain information from these reports?”
Here’s how it works: Every day, the reporter who covers the police beat (Denise Rizzo, unless it’s her day off) goes to the lobby of the Tracy Police Department and flips page-by-page through the dispatcher’s daily log, taking notes on her reporter’s pad.
“I pick out items that typically identify crime trends, such as thefts from cars … or humorous and out-of-the-ordinary items,” she said.
She reads every item but chooses just a sampling, usually about 20 items. Then copy editors cut her column to fit the space on the news page.
If something is especially interesting or shows a crime spree, reporters can get more information from officers and turn it into a story.
If someone younger than 18 is arrested, the name will be blacked-out in the report. Other than that, everything is public information unless there’s an active investigation.
That means anyone can go down to the PD and read the log in its entirety — but only reporters get paid for it.

Posted by cmatthews at October 28, 2005 09:27 PM

What you say is true to a point. Yes, the information is available to the public but they would have to go down to PD to read it.

And if you cover a story that alleges that an incident occurred shouldn't good reporting follow up on the case to see what the outcome was?

My particular incident, covered by the Press in a lengthy Police Blotter article, had me arrested for brandishing a firearm.

What it didn't tell is why and what the outcome of that incident was.

In point of fact I was assaulted in my own home and defended myself with my handgun.

But the press never followed up on the story and to many people I had committed a criminal act.

No one from the press bothered to contact the court system or myself to learn that all the charges levied against me were totally dropped.

So, as you can see, simply printing the "facts" can cause harm.

Rarely today am I questioned by anyone on this as it was quite some time ago. But when it happened it caused me no end of trouble with people who had a mistaken impression they were dealing with someone who, in their eyes, was a criminal.

Dave Hardesty

Posted by: Dave Hardesty at October 31, 2005 09:36 AM

Thanks for answering my questions, Cheri. I would like to see all of those calls in the Police Log go online somewhere. Maybe then the log could be blogged.

Posted by: Jim Freeman at November 4, 2005 10:52 AM

'Outrage, Passion & Uncommon Sense'

Michael Gartner won the Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing in 1997 when he was editor and co-owner of The Daily Tribune in Ames, Iowa, a paper about the size of the Tracy Press. I met him shortly afterward when I took an editorial writing course at the Poynter Institute in Florida.

Today when I took my copy of his just-published book, "Outrage, Passion & Uncommon Sense," to get his autograph, I was stunned. He looked at my nametag and said he'd met me eight years ago.

I was only the student in his class who was an editor and also part-owner of a daily newspaper. He had taken me aside and lectured me about how I should be bold in my writing and never be afraid to show my passion.

The message he gave today at the Associated Press editors conference in San Jose was similar.

"Editorials are bland and boring today," he said. "That's too bad."

He went on to blame the large chain newspapers and decline of competition. Editorial writers are just too afraid to offend readers today, he said. They have no balls.

That's not how it was with Horace Greeley, Henry Watterson, William Allen White and Vermont Royster, the four greatest editorial writers in the history of this nation, he wrote in his book.

"They all reported thoroughly, wrote gracefully and argued passionately. They knew intimately their town — or their nation, or their world — and they were neither blind boosters nor common scolds."

You always knew where they stood, he said.

So tonight, thoroughly inspired, I'm staying up all night to read Gartner's book.

Outside the public's eye

We ran two stories on Saturday, one on a new diversity committee and another on a school bond discussion, that mentioned school district committees that are closed to the public.

At first glance, you might think that this is a violation of the Ralph M. Brown Act, California's open meeting law enacted in 1953 to safeguard the public's right to attend and participate in government meetings within the state.

We thought so. A Tracy Press reporter was assigned to cover a meeting in which the specifics of a survey and an upcoming school bond to fix Tracy High School were discussed. He was told the meeting was closed to the press.

Tracy Unified School District Superintendent Jim Franco said the meetings are not covered by the Brown Act, because his staff has appointed the members, not the school board. He's instructed the committee members to stay mum if reporters call them outside the meetings.

We called California Newspaper Publishers Association Attorney Jim Ewert, who vertified that the meetings can be closed, as long as the committee's membership doesn't include a quorum of school board trustees. The committee's roster lists about a dozen residents of Tracy, along with trustees Gregg Crandall, Joan Feller and Gerry Machado, with Bill Swenson as an alternate, which means it's just short of the four elected officials that make a quorum.

Do you think the district has found a way to sidestep the Brown Act and meet privately? Or is this a legitimate way to discuss important issues before presenting them to the public?

Just thought I'd put the question out there.

Trashing of Judith Miller

If you've been following the case of Judith Miller, the New York Times reporter who spent 85 days in federal jail for protecting a confidential source, you might want to read this report written by Peter Scheer, executive director of the California First Amendment Coalition.

Also, just read that Maureen Dowd has finally commented on Miller in her column, titled Woman of Mass Destruction.
"She never knew when to quit. That was her talent and her flaw. Sorely in need of a tight editorial leash, she was kept on no leash at all, and that has hurt this paper and its trust with readers. She more than earned her sobriquet 'Miss Run Amok.'"

If you Google "Dowd and Miller," you can find the column. Otherwise, you can go to New York Times and sign up for a 14-day free trial (just remember to cancel it later if you don't want to be charged for a subscription after 14 days).

I wrote about Judith Miller's case last summer in a column.

With all we know now, do you have any thoughts to share?