Other side of the bars

I'm writing a story about women jail deputies, so of course, I sought one out. She's only 26 — younger than me— and about the same height. She told me some wild stories about the things she has to deal with as caretaker of criminals. People on drugs. Inmates calling her names. Her safety outside of work.

I have to admit, every once and awhile, the latter crosses my mind. What if someone I wrote about wanted revenge and burned down my house? Nothing even close has happened so far and I'll likely be fine. But it made me realize what these deputies face. They have daily contact. All I did was pass through the jail. Only a handful of inmates had a good look at me. It's a whole different thing when they all know your name.

Lesson learned: My skin is thin compared to these women.

Get a life

There are dishes piled in my sink. I only worked out twice this week. I had to cancel plans with friends three times in that same time period. I haven't had a date in two and half months.

I've come to realize, my job is taking over my life.

It's a good thing I like my job.


Lesson learned: While I was in Japan, we once drove by a shop that said "Life store" on the front. I think I need to go there and get a life.

Just call me detective

The past two days, I got to delve into that suspenseful, investigative mystery side of covering cops and courts at the news paper I work for. Someone found the body of a man who has been missing since fall.

It's a pretty wild story, but it involves a man who sold all his belongings and went up into the wilderness to fast and pray for 40 days and nights (sound familiar do those of you who read the Bible?). This was preparation for his a pilgrimage he was planning to Israel. But he never made it there. He died in the wilderness, and no body knows why.

I went up to the scene with two guys from the Sheriff's department, who were cool to let me tag a long. They were picking up the truck where his body was found. It's pretty eerie to look through this guy's things. Even though I'm home now, I can't help keep thinking about it, trying to rule out what didn't happen in the effort to find out what did.

Lesson learned: Don't wear clothes you like to a scene like that.

News in Nihon (Japan)

For the first time in our whole trip, I toured a newspaper office here in Japan, as well as tour a TV station. I was impressed at the technology held within the hulking broadcasting building called Iwate Broadcasting Company. Lights, screens and dials all lit up with the employees hovering over them.

One of IBC's claims to fame is a Japanese style garden, which in the next couple of weeks, promises to come alive with an umbrella of cherry blossoms overhanging a stream.


At the newspaper, a woman about my age was there to answer questions about being a reporter in Japan. She actually had just started the job this month, but she spoke good English, so I think that's why they paired her with me. Her boss patiently answered all the questions I bombarded him with about their newspaper's journalism ethics and policies.

In Japan, many reporters are stationed at rooms at the government, education or police offices. They collect news releases and attend press conferences along side of their competitors. Newspapers that want such access must be members of a news organization to which they pay dues. It allows close access to sources, but excludes nonmembers and the public from the same information.


I was as struck by the similarities as I was the differences. They deal with many of the same obstacles and questions that we face. As they toured me around the Japanese reporter and me snuck in our questions to each other. They work her hard. She writes two or three stories a day, working 12 hours a day and has only one day off.

Lesson learned: I'm a slacker.