Lesson in sensitivity

When I first started writing for the paper I usually just wrote features and so called fluff pieces. When I first starting writing "hard news" a woman much more wise than I (Kathy) told me to remember that everyone has a mother. And mothers read the paper when their kid's names appear for whatever reason — good or bad.

I sometimes forget that.

I have been reporting on cuff's and collars, courts, accidents, government, city councils and other hard news for a while now. It sometimes all seems to blend in together. Not in a bad way. News is still very interesting to me. What I mean is I have developed a pretty thick skin. Some things just don't bother me anymore or appear to be down right funny.

When I showed up on the scene of my first fatal accident I trembled. My knees shook. My stomach turned and I all but lost my breakfast. I sat in my car and cried before I drove solemnly away. I had nightmares. At similar situations now I still feel a sense of sadness and sympathy for those involved, but I don't have nightmares — usually — and I can do my job of reporting instead of sitting in my car crying. It is never funny.

But some things are sort of funny. At least at first.

I was reading through the weekly sheriff's report the other day. It had the usual tibits of information. Dog bite, suspicious ativity, possible theft of stereo from a boat, cows on the road and a gunshot wound reported by the hospital.

So I checked out the gunshot wound. The official word was "Accidental discharge of a firearm by a dog." Everyone was ok, I was told. The guys knee was pretty messed up, but he is ok. "Ummm, did you say by a dog?" I asked. Correct.

So right away I get this cartoon-like picture in my head of the guy retrieving the bird and the dog holding the gun, taking aim and firing.

Perhaps, it was watching too many Looney Tunes cartoons as a kid. I mean, how many times did watch Bugs Bunny turn around and get Elmer Fudd? Although, Bugs Bunny rarely fired a weapon. He merely outsmarted the old hunter. Bugs occassionaly made a useful purchase from the Acme company and Elmer would end up shooting himself.

The real story: apparently two guys were grouse hunting. Both very experience hunters. A bird was wounded but not killed. As is customary, one hunter picked up the grouse to finish what the buckshot could not. The dog who retrieved the bird jumped around excitedly. While doing so he stepped on the trigger of the gun. The firearm discharged scattering bb's into the young mans leg.

So is it the cartoons? Or maybe just the job. Have I desensitized myself so much that even gunshot wounds can appear humorous?

Well, it wasn't funny to the family of the young man who was injured. The guy was ok, I heard the official word. But I wasn't listening to Kathy's words of wisdom — the guy has a mother. And getting a phone call from your son sitting in a hospital announcing that he has been shot is not a call any mother wants to hear.

It turns out I know the mother. Quite well. But didn't know I knew her and her family until after I had this cartoon running through my head like it was Saturday morning instead of Monday afternoon.

News needs to be reported. In cases where serious criminal charges are filed names will be printed and the story written as straight-up as possible. That is my job. No charges were filed in this particular story.

The young man is recovering. Slowly. He is in a lot of pain. The mother is recovering, too. Slowly. I think I may have wounded our friendship. I apologized to her for being so insensative. And I apologize to her again, right here, right now.

Time heals all wounds, so they say. Time will heal the young hunter. Whether it can heal a friendship, I guess only time will tell.

A tough lesson in sensativity.