Every once in a while you get a note that really is nice. Today was just such a day.
Lately I’ve been doing a bunch of work on stories that I think are really interesting, but then again sometimes I’m interested in mundane intricacies of finance and such that regular people just breeze past. But today I got the note below from the editor, which says to me I might be on the right track. Cool, huh?
Where were you two years ago? Where will you be two years from now?
Two years ago my father was battling throat cancer, I was just over six months married, and the ground was still quaking from economic meltdown. I was also starting this blog.
I started LPJ because I had just begun a full-time job at a newspaper, a medium that had been hemorrhaging for years. The job was in a town that had been hemorrhaging as well, Berlin N.H. The industry and the town were two of the same. They were used to the good times, to American dominance, successful manufacturing and booming profits. Newspapers and Berlin were built for the mid-twentieth century, and the early twenty-first was wearing on both of them.
But I had a job, so I was flying high.
The Reporter wasn’t interested in giving me a blog on their website, so after a couple weeks of trying to convince them I decided to start my own. It focused mostly on Berlin and what I was covering at first, but over time I began to look more and more at journalism in general. Where was the industry going? What are the opportunities for people like me who want to continue to tell the stories both at home and abroad that are too often overlooked? How can I make that happen when the financial mechanisms that supported reporters for the last 100 years are proving inadequate?
If someone wants something, however, it’s up to them to make it happen.
If you had told me two years ago I would soon be riding a Humvee through the Mideast I would have said you were crazy. But then I made it happen.
I don’t know where I’ll be next. I’m now working in Conway, N.H., for the Conway Daily Sun, a great little paper with a fantastic atmosphere. I also still send stories to NHPR, something I’ve been doing for even longer than I’ve been running LPJ. I’m not sure where I’ll look next or what the next adventure will be, but it’s nice to see what can happen over two years. Hopefully the next two have as many surprises.
I’ve been home for, um, a week and a half, and tonight I’m supposed to have a conversation with someone about my next international reporting trip.
This one is still a ways out, and the details are fuzzy, but it’s there. It has been great to get home, catch back up with friends and family, and to get into the routine of reporting on the local. Things have been crazy, exciting and busy even here, in the Conway area, with budget season and such.
The rest of the time I’m still hustling. I just had a piece in the Union Leader, and I’ve been trying to do a piece on Egypt but my timing was off. I’ve got a couple NHPR stories up my sleeve, but I don’t have the time to get them out right now.
It’s been jarring to get back here after the trip, but it’s exciting to have so much going on. I’ve been running in and out of the Sun office every day this week, with meetings, arraignments and events to cover. Let’s see how much longer it lasts before there’s another plane ticket on the horizon…
I’ve been home for nearly a week, and it still doesn’t feel like I’m back. Things have been so busy, with catching back up at the Conway Daily Sun to side projects to stepping back into life it’s been hard to catch my breath. But I’ve got a lot of great things going on.
Already I’ve been looking at another international story: Egypt. A friend put me in touch with an American woman who stayed behind, so I’m talking to her today to see if I can get her on the radio. That story has been exploding over the past two weeks and is only now settling down, but it still has serious implications. I’m interested to hear the American perspective.
Then, of couse, there are the local politics playing out in the Conway area. It’s interesting to shift from international reporting to talking about who is supposed to clear the sidewalks. My mind hasn’t quite done it, but I’m getting there.
And I’m definitely looking for my next big project. I’m not sure what or where, but I do know that covering something in the manner I did this story is incredibly rewarding. I will keep doing it, I just need to figure out how.
The good news? I’m flying home Wednesday.
The bad news? There’s a storm hitting the Northeast Wednesday.
I may have missed my weather window. Instead of worrying about sandstorms and indirect fire it’s slick roads and snow drifts. It’s always something I guess…
Update: So I guess the storm is going to be massive. It was on NPR’s Facebook page, if that says anything. Regardless, I’m getting on an airplane tomorrow morning. I may just be hanging out in London for a while. The ups ans downs of the job.
I got to spend an evening catching up with a friend and former roommate of mine from Maine who works at Camp Arifjan. It was a nice treat, especially after a long couple days of traveling. I’ve got two more days before I go home, which has definitely been pulling at my motivation. Whether it’s two weeks or two months, it’s the last days that hurt. I’m looking forward to a homemade dinner, my wife, my bed and my dog. But until then, the treat of a familiar face makes a difference.
It’s both disconcerting and hopeful here. Lots of soldiers have expressed real concerns about the future of Iraq and how it will survive once the U.S. leaves. I can see that, just because of how much the Americans are doing. But at the same time at the border Iranians were streaming over to visit holy places in Iraq for Ashura. They aren’t terrorists, they’re pilgrims. Lieutenant Colonial Mario Perez, who is partnered with the authorities at the crossing, said there was a coalition of 400 plus Muslims who had come to march in solidarity with the Iraqis to show violence will not deter them. It isn’t safe, he said, but it isn’t a war zone. It’s only a few people.
I have a skewed perspective here, it’s vital to make a note of that. I am in a place where everyone takes a gun to dinner, and you don’t leave the wire without a helmet, vest and eye protection. But it isn’t all violence. There are developments and positive news. Behind the wire it’s hard to notice because insurgents are still plotting ways to kill Americans, but it is only a small group of people. The Iraqis are working to build a safe country, only with limited assets and a cancerous group always working to undermine them.
I have no idea if it will work, but I do know I’d like to come back after it does. I’d like to sit down with these people, all of whom I have met have been wonderful and kind. I have hope as well as fear for this country, but I see something here worth fighting for. Most Iraqis do as well.
I spent almost $3,000 today.
Not really, but sort of. I picked up a few items for reporting, and I rented my bulletproof vest. All together it was about $2,600, but a big chunk of that was the security deposit that will hopefully be returned when I get back. And the equipment, while important for this trip, will be part of my tech repertoire for years to come.
I also got some good news today — the New Hampshire Union Leader wants to carry my stories. Now, in addition to the work for NHPR and the Conway Daily Sun, I’ve got a third media outlet on board.
That means I’ll almost make back my investment in this trip. Maybe I’ll even make a few dollars? Doubtful.
I’ve been jokingly telling people “it’s cheaper than grad school” whenever they ask why I’m going to Iraq. The truth is I’m both nervous and excited, and I know the experience will be worth the expense. And as I get closer I feel more and more like I’ve made the right decision. I want to make sure soldiers, whether they are from the Mount Washington Valley, the North Country, New Hampshire or elsewhere, are not forgotten. Iraq is in transition that the administration isn’t calling war, but those soldiers are serving nonetheless. They deserve recognition, and the public needs reminders every once in a while.
I’ll be posting a lot on my way there, I imagine — LPJ will serve as my war logs. When my equipment comes in I’ll make sure to toss up some photos, and I also plan to chronicle as things happen.
I’m all set, I think, other than I still need my visa, but otherwise I should be good to go. Vest, helmet and goggles are all in the mail, and I’ve got a shotgun (microphone) coming too. It’s now past midnight, so I have a week left. I’ll have to try not to hold my breath.
I took a couple classes over at Plymouth State this past semester to beef up my transcript in case I ever decide to go to graduate school. I have a minor in economics, but I needed to fulfill a few prerequisites to be eligible for some of the schools I am interested in.
I’ve got a ton going on, of course, so I don’t foresee myself going anywhere anytime soon, but I figured as long as I’m somewhat near a school and have the time and the money I should just get it done. I’d love to study journalism, to really dig into it, but going into debt for journalism and then coming out to a sour job market doesn’t sound like a great plan. Who knows where journalism is headed, but having $50,000 in baggage isn’t going to speed me on the journey.
But then I found this. It’s a graduate-level journalism class aimed at 21st century media, without the classroom. I follow the professor, Mindy McAdams, on Twitter, and I was psyched when she posted the course material. The questions about privacy, activism and the online world that she poses are just the sort of discussions I love to engage in, but they only come up once in a while in the day to day of the newsroom. It’s a chance to check back into those questions, which may not make up the forefront of a reporter’s day, but they are pervasive in the background.
So I’m going to try to tackle as much of it as I can over the coming weeks, although I’ll have to integrate it into an otherwise pretty busy schedule. Oh well, it’s not like I’m afraid of a little work. I am taking a vacation to Iraq, after all…
Unlike most people who were in New York City for the storm of 2010/2011, I got out just fine. But as we were wondering around the Museum of Modern Art (where I shot this photo), the snow was dumping outside. My wife kept going on about how wonderfully romantic it was to be in the city when it was snowing, but since I was under-dressed I was less enthusiastic.
The city always captivates me, however, because of how much it offers. I don’t think I could live there full time, but it’s a wonderful place to visit. And it’s a wonderful place to be trapped in a snowstorm.
Honestly, I don’t have anything significant to write about right now. I’ve got a post percolating around the challenged the city faces in the snow (and I’ve got photos to go along with it), but that isn’t what I’m doing now. Right now I’m just catching up and posting a few photos from before the storm really struck. Enjoy.
ErikEisele.com 