Troy Meadows, the easy-going news director my freshman year, encouraged his news staff to just not sit for an hour preparing and reading news, but to actually get out and find news on the campus and in the community. To do this he wanted us to take the initiative and find these stories ourselves. If we did one a month that amounted to about three a semester, and with a staff of about 15 that could add up to an impressive-sounding news department, Troy opined. Troy, however, was too nice a guy and would "help" many of the news staff find these stories – usually by bringing you the topic and a list of ideas on how to cover the story. All people had to do was gather the sound and edit together. If they ever did, that is. (Some people don’t put forth a lot of effort in college.)
Since I was in the Introduction to Broadcasting class, and not really receiving credit for my work that semester, I was given the ol' "it would be good experience for later" speech by Troy. And, thus, with his "help" I pulled off a decent story midway through the semester.
Fast-forward to the end of November: Troy calls me into the newsroom one morning after my seven o’clock newscast and begins the ol' "you did such a good job the last time" speech (sort of based on the first ol’ speech), buttering me up for my acceptance of another project. Yes, he has another story idea that someone needed to take, and since I just happened to be on site at that very moment.... This time, however, he wants me to do the legwork on my own: that is, find the people to interview, devise a story, and then edit it together. There weren't usually any hard-and-fast requirements to these stories, though Troy preferred something at least 90 seconds.
I was somewhat confused then when I was given my assignment: covering the opening ceremony of the university's annual Giving Tree ceremony. I don't know if Troy purposely gave me this assignment because no one else wanted it, or if it was some sort of test to see if I could pull it off. I was hardly an expert in writing or editing at this point but my obvious concerns were figuring out how to convey a lit Christmas tree on the radio. I remember jokingly making the case that of all the lights, red doesn't translate well on radio. The comment blew over like Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree.
Whatever I came up with was to be used for the station’s semi-regular holiday special, a sort of audio scrapbook of Christmas on campus (which, not surprisingly, was the name of the special when it aired shortly before winter break). That said, what I was really doing was not as much reporting the news of the Giving Tree’s impending lighting, but rather covering the event for a feature story, one that would be played well after the fact.
While I was in over my head, I felt, I still went about the story with the same prep-work I would have had I been covering the item as a news story. Somewhat interested in the campus grounds, I went the historic direction in my research. For years, a real tree outside one of the original buildings on campus had been involved in the decades-old tradition; both the tree and building were long destroyed by my time. Since then, it had been anchored out front another building on the quadrangle. This year, I learned, would be the first time it would be lit in another location – essentially, its third location.
I got the impression it wasn’t a real tree that year, rather a large imitation one secured behind the Administration Building in a hexagon-shaped planter box. The tree appeared mysteriously the week before Thanksgiving and was decorated but remained dark in the evening until the official ceremony. On the designated evening in question, students, staff, faculty, and townspeople (and whoever else wanted a free show) would gather ‘round and bring canned goods or other useful donations for area charities (hence “Giving Tree”). The University President spoke, the cheerleaders danced, choirs sang, a guy wandered around in a red suit, and Santa Claus made an appearance in an elaborate stage show on top of the Administration Building. (The other guy in the red suit was a retired faculty member who was introduced as having attended the most Giving Tree lighting ceremonies, something like forty or so.)
Anyway, about the only thing I did right in my approach was interviewing people. While I was keen enough to think to use nat sound – natural sound, the sounds of people talking, people singing, music playing, wind blowing, and so on – most of my piece involved after-the-fact interviews about how people felt this time of year. Troy said, and he was right, that more people discussed how they felt this time of the year, rather than anything about the tree. But, he did point out, there was a real sense of generosity and sharing hanging in the air that night and I managed to capture that. I guess that was good.
In the end, the piece turned out fine. It wasn’t for a grade – thankfully – and I don’t recall any comments on it, but it wasn’t something I put much thought into after the semester was over.
Little did I know what lay in store next year....
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Tree
(Liz Berlin/Michael Glabicki/Rusted Root/Jenn Wertz)
Rusted Root
From the album Cruel Sun
1992
Ever see the tree, ever feel yourself
Wrapped around the wind Let go of your desire
Desire will suffer in the send suffer the will,
will of the child the child will born on our death
Child will be born on our death
Oh let the child be born and be brought to the sun
As desire will come and suffer the will,
will will of the child (repeat 2 Times)
Everything is so beautiful
Everything is so simple now
Colors weave into symbols of life
symbols of life they weave into the wind
Oh weary child rest your head
Very soon the colors come alive
And the child will be born born on our death
child will be born on our death
Oh let the child be born and be brought to the sun
As the symbols of life weave into the wind (Repeat 1 time)
Because everything is simple now
Nothing has ever changed
The colors all weave with life
Let the weary child be born
Because everything is simple now
Nothing has ever changed
The colors all weave with life as we move into the wind
