A regret of the job

This week, I've been dealing with one of the major regrets of my job – meeting wonderful people when it's too late. Friday, I sat in a courtroom and heard from family and friends about what a wonderful kid Ricky Bird was. His life was cut tragically short by a drunk driver in June. And, today, I'll attend the funeral of Jennifer Kois and learn more about the special person she was. Jennifer, a BHS grad, and her boyfriend were killed last week near Grand Junction (pardon me while I leave some of my unbias at the door) by a man who had no business behind the wheel of a vehicle and should have already been rotting in a prison cell (thank you). Wonderful people that, until their deaths, never graced the pages of our newspaper. I also handle the obits for our papers so, many weeks, I get a double dose of guilt. Reading about people who lived amazing, full lives that we never heard about either. I know we can't get to everybody but I can't help but feel as a community paper, we should be getting to a few more. We shouldn't only have to hear about good people when bad things happens to them. Oh, and on that funeral note, if you think it's morbid to treat a service as a media event, well, I tend to feel the same. But, lately, I've started to find the middle ground. It's important to share the stories of these people's lives. It's the least we can do. So, my offer to you, is send us the unique stories of the great people you know. Maybe we can start getting to a few more.

Probably the end

Yesterday's release of a final report on the shooting at Platte Canyon High School last fall essentially ends what happened there from a criminal and investigative standpoint. Sure, we'll still hear the echoes of what happened that day and there will probably be memorials and retrospectives. Obviously little is over for the familes and victims of that day. But, for all intents and purposes, done. And the family of the lone fatality, Emily Keyes, as they have done since the outset of this tragedy, continue to impress me with their strength and courage. They released a statement upon the release of the report yesterday.
"The best people did the best of things. The outcome could have been far more grave. We as a
family know this and appreciate this," they said.
And some part of me can't help but still think the families of many of the Columbine victims could learn something from them. I'm still bitter about the Columbine aftermath. Bitter that emptiness and sickness I felt after that day was slowly replaced by a feeling of apathy and disgust by the families running the media routes, pointing fingers of blame in five different directions all at the same time, polishing off their lawyers business cards – I, I, I. Granted, Columbine incurred a larger loss of life. But a young life is a young life lost, right? And, then
I look at the Keyes family – gracious even in its darkest hour. I keep waiting for them to change – pop up with a lawyer and sue the school district for lax security measures. I'm starting to doubt it. Maybe it's the environment – the close knit community of Bailey versus the manifest destiny of Littleton. I'm not sure. All I know is seven months after Columbine I was numb, ready not to hear another word about it. But, today, my heart still aches for the Keyes family and I don't see an end in sight.

R.I.P. from the headlines

May I be so pretentious as to say "our long national nightmare is over." After weeks of speculation, we now know how Anna Nicole Smith died. Everybody who had accidental drug overdose in the office pool meet me by the water cooler later to divy up. For those who went with Bush administration/Martian conspiracy – tough break. My first inclination is that someone should really have talked to this family about the dangers of Methadone. Buy, I'm not going to harp on that. I know I'm on borrowed time, you all lost interest in Anna Nicole about 10 years ago. I tend to laugh at the thought of an accidental overdose – it seems to be as likely as accidentally throwing a TV from the third floor window of a college dorm or accidentally getting married. And I can't say I'm not relieved that we have come to a conclusion. A lot of good celebrity news has fallen by the wayside while we dealt with this issue. I bet you totally missed that bald Britney got out of rehab or Angelina Jolie adopted a Tibetan Springer Monkey. I'm kidding about the last one – that's next week, you didn't miss it.

Everybody gets a voice

Got a letter from an inmate at the Adams County Detention Facility last week. Apparently, he filed a grievance because he felt they were wasting money leaving security flood lights on at the jail for all hours of the night. He felt it was a waste of energy My first instinct was to quip "Yeah, why don't they take down those unsightly fences too!" But my gallows humor has given way to a sort of renewed respect for our right to speak. Yes, even in jail (albeit his grievance was responded to with a polite but terse reply that it wasn't going to change) folks have the right to air their concerns. Amazing!

Call to action

Thursday night at a town hall meeting Wiggins, Bob Sakata, a well-known Brighton farmer and elder statesman of Colorado agricutural, made an impassioned plea to Gov. Ritter to repeal current Colorado Water Law as farmers continue to grapple with the issues of well being shut off and how they will still farm their land. Look for more in the March 28 Brighton Blade.

Book him, Kevo

Hey, we've been getting some feedback in the form of Web site comments, e-mails and phone calls on a story in yesterday's Blade about two sisters (18 and 15) who had babies nine hours apart at PVMC. I expected to get some feedback when I wrote this story. In a way, it's reassuring. Obviously, people have a genuine concern that babies stay babies until there of a rightful age to have babies of their own. But some concern has been levied at the paper because some people don't even think this was news. From a general sense, no, these two sisters having babies so close together is not earth shattering but it is a unique story. As for the insinuation that we're somehow promoting teen pregnancy or championing these sisters for getting pregnant young – I don't really buy that. Do we set limits on what we write yes. Would I write a story about a convicted sex offender selling candy to children in the park? OK, bad example, I would. Yes I would but the attempt wouldn't be to write it in a uplifting, heartwarming way. But the last thing, I want to be is the morality police – judging people's actions – trying to purvey to you what they've done wrong. In this case, I can't help but just feel like 'It is what it is." I know these girls have a lot of support from their family and friends. Hopefully, they will raise two wonderful little girls.

Backseat driver

It's been about 10 seconds since I've heard ... wait, here comes another one, about some state or community wishing to ban use of cell phones in vehicles. As one of the maniacs who occassionally veers toward the center line when he dials (you should see me text message), I can't say I completely disagree with the banning of cell phones in cars. As a journalist, it would be hard to part with my vehicular cell phone responsibility. Because, as I received my journalism education, I was encouraged to always drive up to any assignment talking on my cell phone – thus giving the appearance of importance and that I may be talking deadlines with my editor or getting filled in with late-breaking news. While, in reality, I'm usually being scolded by my wife for not picking up dog poop in the backyard or being reminded to pick up bread at the store. But I worry about the added burden on police officers to pull people over for talking on cell phones plus the hassle. "Officer, I'm talking on the cell phone, could you please just give me the ticket quicklike so I can move. It's an important call ... no, I'm not going to hang up. Owww, you can't arrest me ... I'll have to call you back."
So as a compromise, instead of banning cell phones, which I think would send the wrong messages to kids wanting to be journalists (Hi, Brooklyn, Daddy loves you) why don't we just ban use of cell phones in the front seat. Then, (if you're not Dikembe Mutombo) you would be forced to pull over and make your call. And, let's face it, cops would have a much easier time trying to find somebody trying to talk on their cell phone and drive from the backseat at the same time! Ta-Dah!