In October 2014 I began posting a photo every weekday morning with the hashtag #GoodMorningAtlanta. The goal? To inspire, enlighten, or just plain help others start their day with a smile. See each week’s photos by clicking on the #GoodMorningAtlanta category, and view the daily photo by following me on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.
It was a cloudy but picturesque Thanksgiving weekend in Atlanta. Here are some of the visual highlights:
The pitch was a slam dunk.
We had been seeking potential stories for our November ratings period — promotable pieces that would provide those moments everyone shares and discusses the following day. Since I specialize in those emotional epics, I had been tabbed with securing them.
And then the e-mail came in.
A 92-year-old World War II Veteran, who happened to be the e-mailer’s father, would soon receive the chance to fly in the very type of plane he flew during the war. The man, named John Tarabula, was celebrating 69 years of marriage to his wife, Jo.
The e-mail caught the attention of many in the 11Alive newsroom, and I volunteered to do the story. No matter what happened on the actual flight, we assumed, the piece would practically write itself.
It didn’t.
I arrived at the Tarabula household the morning of the flight, planning to interview John and Jo and shoot some footage of the couple before heading out to the airfield.
Within minutes, I learned John had no intention of going up in that plane. (more…)
Every week, I shine the spotlight on some of the best storytelling in the business and offer my comments. “3 Great Stories of the Week” will post every Monday at 8 AM.
Black death in the era of Ferguson (11/24/14, Ebony): I approached the aftermath of the Ferguson verdict wanting to listen, not talk.
I wanted to listen to perspectives that were not my own, backgrounds that I had not experienced.
This week, I offer three great first-person reflections following the verdict, starting with Jamilah Lemieux of Ebony Magazine:
If this isn’t our collective “Black wake-up call,” then it will never come. The whole damn system is guilty as hell, and if we fail to challenge it, then we are too. There is not one more moment for complacency; our silence is consent. The people of St. Louis are roaring; will the rest of us join in? When the only thing standing between imminent death and us is the fear, nervousness and ineptitude of the police, will we continue to act as if we can pray, earn or achieve our way out of struggle?