So many stories we cover, remain at arms length. A shroud of protection, usually in the form of a ‘could care less’ manner sweeps across them, allow us to go home at the end of our shifts and lead an ordinary life.
But sometimes those stories that we as camera operators, sound recordists, reporters and edit/production staff cover, can touch us closer than usual, affect us more than others and sometimes remind us of the fragility of life.
Recently I covered a road accident. Sadly a 21 year old girl drove her car into the path of an oncoming truck, the consequences devastating and fatal. 2 weeks earlier, four people had died at the same intersection, under different circumstances. They also were teenagers, and over the next few days, flowers, photo’s and items of comfort such as a teddy bear or a t shirt, was left by the roadside, a memorial to those who died.
Names were written on the curb and messages of loss and love and shock adorned street poles and sign posts.
Tragically, the Police believed that it was these tributes left for those killed, by the ones who loved them, that had been a factor in the young woman’s death. The Police were quite convinced that as she had approached the intersection, her thoughts had been distracted by those very tributes, which by this stage amounted to quite a large memorial. As much as a reminder as it was, the distraction had played a fundamental part in her heartbreaking loss. Ironically, the message that the intersection was dangerous was lost in a sea of flowers.
I was sad there that day. We stayed for hours, until the road reopened, and as I filmed cars travelling down the road, I could not help but think how rapidly life continues in its regularity, commuters passing by, completely oblivious that a young woman had died there only hours earlier.
I had filmed all the while, including after the young woman’s body had been freed, the wreck loaded onto a flattop tray. I was rather annoyed by the casual way the tow truck driver collected parts of the car and unsystematically threw them into the main body of the car, much like he was sweeping up someone’s rubbish and tossing it into the bin.
As he drove off, the white sheet that had covered her body, had given her privacy from inquisitive spectators and media with cameras, had protected her as her lifeless body was carefully and respectfully removed, now came to life, as it blew in the breeze like a flag dangling from the wreckage as it passed us down the road.
A few days later, my 19 year old daughter goes for her drivers licence. Part of me wanted her to fail, but in life we teach them about success, about doing your best and achieving your goals. I know I cannot wrap her or any other members of my family in bubble wrap simply because of what I see and experience as a media representative. It would be unfair and unrealistic to impose bans on her or my son simply because of a fathers love for them and a fear of what dangers lay ahead for them.
She got her licence, and each day as she ventures out, her confidence growing, her excitement with her new found independence, I can’t help but still be protective....
I make her text me on arrival.
