By Isaac Daniel, Pulliam Intern
June 14, 2008 12:36 am
—
I finally found time Wednesday to walk downtown. On Main Street that early afternoon, I found myself flanked with a question from a gray-haired woman sitting on an old bus bench that had seen better days.
She asked, “Do you know what time it is?”
I replied from across the street, “Five after 12.”
In January, I interned as a reporter during the Indiana General Assembly. I was stationed about six blocks from Indiana’s Statehouse, where I walked back and forth numerous times through the smoky streets of Indy.
I was never asked the time. In place of that where questions asked with the shaking of coins echoing in a cup: “Spare any change?” I was also asked a loan of five dollars for a sandwich. Never the time.
I’m not sure why this interests me. A simple question of the time? It just made me realize where I was. I wasn’t in the crowded streets of Indy.
I’m in Washington.
When I first arrived at the Times-Herald to start my internship, I was always the subject of another question, frequently asked by sports editor Todd Lancaster, “What does a 20-year-old do in Washington?”
I’m too young to take presence in the local sports bar, and I’m too old to jump on trampolines.
The question I asked myself was: What does a journalist do in Washington?
Then the flood hit.
As a journalist, you feel honored to cover events like these, though they are tragic.
I came in earlier Monday than my usual 3 p.m. knowing full well that Indiana had been hit with destructive floods over the weekend.
Still new to the area, I had no clue where towns like Elnora or Plainville were at, and no idea of how deep the water was.
Following staff writer Sally Petty to the front lines of the flood, I found myself saying, as a journalist, “I’m glad to be in Washington.”
I was given the opportunity to tell the story of those affected by this epic tragedy hitting Hoosier farms and families.
I captured the image the best I could.
Thursday, I woke up to shower, dress and eat breakfast before leaving for Terre Haute. Because of the floods on U.S. 50, the easiest and most direct route to Terre Haute, I was forced to reroute south on state roads and drive back up north to my destination where a Black-hawk helicopter was waiting for me.
It took two hours to reach Hulman Field in my early-stages-of-rusted Ford Ranger pickup truck.
As I walked in through the airport’s automatic sliding doors, I passed boxes and boxes of bottled water being organized and hauled away by men and women in the National Guard.
After a brief safety seminar outside the helicopter, I stepped in with four other photographers and two cameramen from local TV crews.
In the air over Daviees County, the true destruction caused by the same compound found in the water bottles outside Terre Haute’s airport could be seen for miles reaching the horizon.
I’ve encountered opportunities during this one week, that many my age don’t find unless their enlisted.
I’m sorry to admit it takes a tragic time in Daviess County for me to have something to do.
n Isaac Daniel of Greenwood will be a junior at Franklin College next fall. He is doing a Pulliam internship at the Times-Herald this summer.
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