Trials, what a strange phenomenon when you step back and really analyze it. For all of my life I just accepted the trial process as a normal part of life.
If you messed up, you stood in front of a judge and received your punishment, just like when you were a kid and you stood ready to be judged by your parents when you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar.
Viewing a trial as an adult, my perspective on the matter changed drastically.
Several men lined up, all dressed in the same single color outfits that resembled sinister versions of the typical nursing uniforms.
A bailiff, with a self important air about him, stood watch, taking orders from a judge wearing an outdated robe.
I didn’t really listen much to what was being said. I was too much in awe of what was going on around me.
These men in important positions, were about to decide the fate of another fellow human being. They had been afforded the authority to choose the next step in these men’s lives.
The first man on trial stepped to a microphone and made a few statements, answered a few questions, and then was silent.
The important people made a few statements and then the man was taken off.
Let me clarify something quickly.
My schedule, 6 courses, commuting to Tampa from Orlando 4 days a week, and working on the weekend, did not allow me to attend a trial in person, but fortunately I was able to watch one online. It was set at the Orange County Clerk of Courts in downtown Orlando.
I had been there before, but only for traffic matters.
Watching this awkward situation, I realized how fortunate I had been to this point in my life that I had never been forced to stand there awaiting my fate.
After the words were expressed and whatever decision was made, the first man walked off and another proceeded to step up to the podium.
As the next man began to speak, I couldn’t help but wonder where the first man was headed.
I thought back to a previous field trip to the Hillsborough County jail. I recalled vividly the row of prisoners, clad in orange jumpsuits, being escorted down a lonely, sterile hallway, as our group of free students bared witness.
Would that man be filing in line with the others?
It is a strange thing that we have given ourselves the ability to pass judgment upon one another. I don’t think that I would feel justified to stand in judgment of another. What makes that judge better than the man whom he had just condemned to a prison sentence?
This, along with all of the other experiences that I have been a part of this semester, have changed me as a person, for the better. I will take these moments and learn from them. I will remember how precious life and freedom are and just how quickly the two can be taken away.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
"Windy" day in Public Affairs Reporting
William "Windy" March, chief political reporter for the Tampa Tribune, visited our Public Affairs Reporting class on Tuesday.
March, whose whimsical nickname never was explained, spoke for close to an hour on the various methods of obtaining political public records that we might find useful as professional journalists.
Again, just like every guest speaker before him, March came through with an unexpected level of humor. Thinking that I would struggle to stay awake, I was pleasantly surprise to find myself laughing, as well as listening intently.
"When I started covering politics, God was still a county commissioner," said March.
I laughed.
Apparently Mr. "Windy" has been around the business for quite some time, which made his advice even more valuable.
One tidbit, a story about a Miami business owner and immigrant from Venezuela, particularly grabbed my attention.
Mark Jimenez, during President Bill Clinton's run for office, found himself under scrutiny from reporters for some shady business involving his employee's campaign donations.
Reporters scoured various records and found that employee's of Jimenez's business had each donated $1,000 dollars to Clinton's campaign fund. On the surface, this alone was odd, but it got even stranger.
When closer scrutiny was paid to the employee's voter registration, it came to light that the majority of them didn't even vote in the election. Why would someone who didn't care enough to vote, care enough to spend $1,000 of their own dollars to donate to the campaign of a candidate, for whom that never voted?
Jimenez found himself under the spotlight. He had been exposed. It appeared evident that he had given the employee's the money and asked them to donate it, simply because there are rules in place that prohibit anyone from donating over a certain amount toward a campaign.
I knew things like this happened, but I had never actually heard a story like this from someone who was such an expert in the field, in which I will be pursuing a career. It was truly inspiring and I thank "Windy" for his time and his advice.
March, whose whimsical nickname never was explained, spoke for close to an hour on the various methods of obtaining political public records that we might find useful as professional journalists.
Again, just like every guest speaker before him, March came through with an unexpected level of humor. Thinking that I would struggle to stay awake, I was pleasantly surprise to find myself laughing, as well as listening intently.
"When I started covering politics, God was still a county commissioner," said March.
I laughed.
Apparently Mr. "Windy" has been around the business for quite some time, which made his advice even more valuable.
One tidbit, a story about a Miami business owner and immigrant from Venezuela, particularly grabbed my attention.
Mark Jimenez, during President Bill Clinton's run for office, found himself under scrutiny from reporters for some shady business involving his employee's campaign donations.
Reporters scoured various records and found that employee's of Jimenez's business had each donated $1,000 dollars to Clinton's campaign fund. On the surface, this alone was odd, but it got even stranger.
When closer scrutiny was paid to the employee's voter registration, it came to light that the majority of them didn't even vote in the election. Why would someone who didn't care enough to vote, care enough to spend $1,000 of their own dollars to donate to the campaign of a candidate, for whom that never voted?
Jimenez found himself under the spotlight. He had been exposed. It appeared evident that he had given the employee's the money and asked them to donate it, simply because there are rules in place that prohibit anyone from donating over a certain amount toward a campaign.
I knew things like this happened, but I had never actually heard a story like this from someone who was such an expert in the field, in which I will be pursuing a career. It was truly inspiring and I thank "Windy" for his time and his advice.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Meeting Two: No rhymes, also no fun
For my second meeting, I decided to check out a school board meeting. The Orange County School Board met on October 26, 2010. I know…That is before the date of my first meeting, how is that possible? I simply decided to write in reverse order.
I expected to be extremely bored, but what I had forgotten is that I had already met two of the members of the school board.
I worked for a radio show on WEUS the Big 810 in Orlando this passed summer. Joie Cadle, Chairman from District 1, and Superintendent Ronald Blocker, were both on the show and I had the pleasure of meeting both of them.
It made it easier to bare witness to this meeting, being familiar with two of the members.
The meeting started with a moment of silence for one of the board’s colleagues who had recently passed away. The thing that touched me the most is when it was brought up that the deceased had left 3 beloved dogs behind. I tend to have a soft spot for dogs, probably more-so than humans. That’s something maybe I should work on.
Again, like the first meeting, the members following up the opening by handing out various awards.
I began to wonder how much these awards truly meant. They seem to be pretty frivolous in bestowing them upon people.
One thing that I found interesting was the name plate in from of Kathleen Gordon. It read: Kathleen “Kat” Gordon.
What struck me as being “out of place” was the need for a nickname. In such a formal setting, it seemed odd to place the board member’s nickname on the plate. It made it a bit difficult to take her seriously. I found it a bit pretentious.
The next item on the agenda was the rejection of two applications for charter schools. I wasn’t really sure what was going on here, but I knew then and there that I do not want to report on politics. I never really did have an interest, and sitting through these meetings made that interest even more so.
They covered ESOL (English for speakers of foreign languages), enrollment changes according to numbers and demographics, and much more.
I realize that a school board meeting is far from high level politics, but the bureaucracy is the same.
They read labels for schools and explained what each meant. They discussed timelines for various projects. Each time they used numbers, rather than simply using a title that would describe what was actually happening.
I applaud those who can sit through this type of meeting and decipher what was covered. Aside from seeing the two individuals that I had met previously, this was more of an exercise in staying awake than anything else.
However, I did enjoy the experience. I had never been witness to something like this before and it is something I am proud to say that I did and will quite possibly do many more times, depending on my career path after school.
I expected to be extremely bored, but what I had forgotten is that I had already met two of the members of the school board.
I worked for a radio show on WEUS the Big 810 in Orlando this passed summer. Joie Cadle, Chairman from District 1, and Superintendent Ronald Blocker, were both on the show and I had the pleasure of meeting both of them.
It made it easier to bare witness to this meeting, being familiar with two of the members.
The meeting started with a moment of silence for one of the board’s colleagues who had recently passed away. The thing that touched me the most is when it was brought up that the deceased had left 3 beloved dogs behind. I tend to have a soft spot for dogs, probably more-so than humans. That’s something maybe I should work on.
Again, like the first meeting, the members following up the opening by handing out various awards.
I began to wonder how much these awards truly meant. They seem to be pretty frivolous in bestowing them upon people.
One thing that I found interesting was the name plate in from of Kathleen Gordon. It read: Kathleen “Kat” Gordon.
What struck me as being “out of place” was the need for a nickname. In such a formal setting, it seemed odd to place the board member’s nickname on the plate. It made it a bit difficult to take her seriously. I found it a bit pretentious.
The next item on the agenda was the rejection of two applications for charter schools. I wasn’t really sure what was going on here, but I knew then and there that I do not want to report on politics. I never really did have an interest, and sitting through these meetings made that interest even more so.
They covered ESOL (English for speakers of foreign languages), enrollment changes according to numbers and demographics, and much more.
I realize that a school board meeting is far from high level politics, but the bureaucracy is the same.
They read labels for schools and explained what each meant. They discussed timelines for various projects. Each time they used numbers, rather than simply using a title that would describe what was actually happening.
I applaud those who can sit through this type of meeting and decipher what was covered. Aside from seeing the two individuals that I had met previously, this was more of an exercise in staying awake than anything else.
However, I did enjoy the experience. I had never been witness to something like this before and it is something I am proud to say that I did and will quite possibly do many more times, depending on my career path after school.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Meeting one...No fun
Meeting One – Orlando City Council Meeting - November 1, 2010 – 2 pm
On November 1st the Orlando City Council lead by Mayor Buddy Dyer, met in a medium sized room that resembled a lavish movie theater. Instead of enjoying a movie, however, I would be listening in on various topics regarding the City Beautiful and the issues of importance at the time.
Sitting in front of an official looking blue drapery background, complete with flags adorned with fancy, yellow tassels, Dyer introduced himself, as though anyone from this town might possibly be unfamiliar with him.
The proceeding began with an invocation from a local minister. I found this odd, but at the same time refreshing.
Just like everything else with government, it took approximately five minutes just to announce Reverend Gilmore who would be presenting the invocation. After that came the pledge of allegiance. At this point I wondered how long I might be stuck listening to these people.
Then it hit me. I have to get used to this if I want to be a successful journalist. It is not all glitz and glamor, but sometimes the painstaking process of sitting through a meeting like this can end up presenting us with an excellent opportunity for a story…or it can sleep us craving a nap.
The role-call took up some more time. That was followed by the bestowment of two awards on colleagues of those in charge of the meeting.
After a few more pats on the back, the meeting finally began.
Fiesta in the Park, a local art festival at Lake Eola in Downtown Orlando was the first issue raised. It was described in great detail.
Oh wow…these seats are really comfortable…hmmm…I wonder what that person’s deal is over there…wait…snap out of it, focus!
I think it is a requirement for people to speak in slow, monotone voices at these meetings.
The gentleman responsible for the Fiesta in the Park event stepped to the podium and bragged about how great the event was.
Then Patty Sheehan, commissioner from District 4 spoke on a sale of Cisterns and Composters. She then continued to ramble on and on about other events, include something about a farmer’s market and so on.
I really have to say that my first experience with one of these meetings was quite disappointing. I would like to avoid this at all costs.
I feel like too many assignments like this would turn one off to this career.
It seemed more like an opportunity for various representatives to brag about whatever events they were responsible for. One member even took a side step from her original speech and starting talking about how Bethune-Cookman’s football team will, in her opinion defeat The Rattlers of Florida A&M.
This meeting seemed like a very inefficient way to discuss these types of issues. From what I gathered, there were maybe fifteen minutes that actually contained anything of substance.
The only story at this meeting is the waste of tax payer’s money that is spent on this type of meeting.
I went from excited; to bored, to angry, to relieved it was over, all in a very short period of time.
I was told that many times, as a journalist, you will sit in on a meeting like this and nothing will come of it. It is the dreaded assignment that no one wants. Now I realize why those who told me this felt that way.
On November 1st the Orlando City Council lead by Mayor Buddy Dyer, met in a medium sized room that resembled a lavish movie theater. Instead of enjoying a movie, however, I would be listening in on various topics regarding the City Beautiful and the issues of importance at the time.
Sitting in front of an official looking blue drapery background, complete with flags adorned with fancy, yellow tassels, Dyer introduced himself, as though anyone from this town might possibly be unfamiliar with him.
The proceeding began with an invocation from a local minister. I found this odd, but at the same time refreshing.
Just like everything else with government, it took approximately five minutes just to announce Reverend Gilmore who would be presenting the invocation. After that came the pledge of allegiance. At this point I wondered how long I might be stuck listening to these people.
Then it hit me. I have to get used to this if I want to be a successful journalist. It is not all glitz and glamor, but sometimes the painstaking process of sitting through a meeting like this can end up presenting us with an excellent opportunity for a story…or it can sleep us craving a nap.
The role-call took up some more time. That was followed by the bestowment of two awards on colleagues of those in charge of the meeting.
After a few more pats on the back, the meeting finally began.
Fiesta in the Park, a local art festival at Lake Eola in Downtown Orlando was the first issue raised. It was described in great detail.
Oh wow…these seats are really comfortable…hmmm…I wonder what that person’s deal is over there…wait…snap out of it, focus!
I think it is a requirement for people to speak in slow, monotone voices at these meetings.
The gentleman responsible for the Fiesta in the Park event stepped to the podium and bragged about how great the event was.
Then Patty Sheehan, commissioner from District 4 spoke on a sale of Cisterns and Composters. She then continued to ramble on and on about other events, include something about a farmer’s market and so on.
I really have to say that my first experience with one of these meetings was quite disappointing. I would like to avoid this at all costs.
I feel like too many assignments like this would turn one off to this career.
It seemed more like an opportunity for various representatives to brag about whatever events they were responsible for. One member even took a side step from her original speech and starting talking about how Bethune-Cookman’s football team will, in her opinion defeat The Rattlers of Florida A&M.
This meeting seemed like a very inefficient way to discuss these types of issues. From what I gathered, there were maybe fifteen minutes that actually contained anything of substance.
The only story at this meeting is the waste of tax payer’s money that is spent on this type of meeting.
I went from excited; to bored, to angry, to relieved it was over, all in a very short period of time.
I was told that many times, as a journalist, you will sit in on a meeting like this and nothing will come of it. It is the dreaded assignment that no one wants. Now I realize why those who told me this felt that way.
Budgets for journalists: Preston Trigg
Preston Trigg, probably the most thorough and informative of this semester's guests, returned to our Public Affairs Reporting class to fill in the missing puzzle pieces left over from his previous visit.
This time Trigg covered the budget. He informed us that a budget consists of two parts: Revenue and Expenses.
Revenue is the money coming in and Expenses is the money going out. If these two are not pretty close, if not exactly, the same number there may be something worth looking into.
He covered loads of other material two, explaining that a "fiscal year" runs from Oct. 1st through the following Sept. He told us to look for major increases, property tax, fees and licenses, and much more.
These will all come in handy and will provide me with some excellent tools for my career, but what I really will take with me is some of the quotes that I pulled from the presentation.
"Follow the money," said Trigg.
This has been a recurring theme in all of my classes. I just wish that, by following the money, some of it would end up in my pockets.
"Written so an 8th grader can figure it out" were the words he used to describe a budget.
This really hit home with me. I didn't realize how simple it actually was to read a budget and grab a story from within its boring grasp.
I will no longer be afraid when presented with an opportunity to break a story by scouring through a budget.
Lastly, I laughed out lot (or I loled to use today's shorthand) when Trigg described the types of people that work in the budgeting department.
He used the term "geeky types" as a basic description, but then added on by stating that they are "locked away in an office" and would be "tickled pink to talk to you".
Not only did this make me laugh, but it also made me think. These budget officials, tucked away in their cozy little statistical caves, could be my best friends when I need to break a story.
I definitely recommend Trigg's presentation to next semester's Public Affairs Reporting students. Listen and take a lot of valuable tips from the lecture, but also don't be afraid to kick back and enjoy.
Trigg is full of great information, but he brings more to the table. It's like a lecture with a sprinkling of stand up comedy.
This time Trigg covered the budget. He informed us that a budget consists of two parts: Revenue and Expenses.
Revenue is the money coming in and Expenses is the money going out. If these two are not pretty close, if not exactly, the same number there may be something worth looking into.
He covered loads of other material two, explaining that a "fiscal year" runs from Oct. 1st through the following Sept. He told us to look for major increases, property tax, fees and licenses, and much more.
These will all come in handy and will provide me with some excellent tools for my career, but what I really will take with me is some of the quotes that I pulled from the presentation.
"Follow the money," said Trigg.
This has been a recurring theme in all of my classes. I just wish that, by following the money, some of it would end up in my pockets.
"Written so an 8th grader can figure it out" were the words he used to describe a budget.
This really hit home with me. I didn't realize how simple it actually was to read a budget and grab a story from within its boring grasp.
I will no longer be afraid when presented with an opportunity to break a story by scouring through a budget.
Lastly, I laughed out lot (or I loled to use today's shorthand) when Trigg described the types of people that work in the budgeting department.
He used the term "geeky types" as a basic description, but then added on by stating that they are "locked away in an office" and would be "tickled pink to talk to you".
Not only did this make me laugh, but it also made me think. These budget officials, tucked away in their cozy little statistical caves, could be my best friends when I need to break a story.
I definitely recommend Trigg's presentation to next semester's Public Affairs Reporting students. Listen and take a lot of valuable tips from the lecture, but also don't be afraid to kick back and enjoy.
Trigg is full of great information, but he brings more to the table. It's like a lecture with a sprinkling of stand up comedy.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Please, just tell us where you stand on the issues
by: Anthony Gaenzle
Election day is finally here. I, for one, have been eagerly awaiting this day for months.
I have been on the edge of my seat, eager for for November 2nd to arrive.
Did I vote? Well, that's another matter.
What I was so excited for was not the chance to make a difference, but the chance to watch television without having to witness some political candidate bashing their opponent.
Smear campaigns have been around since the times of Boss Tweed and Tammany Hall, but never have they been so blatant.
Candidates don't even feign an attempt to have a plan or a stance on any of the issues. Instead, they simply hire a camera crew and a writer and tear into the soul of the opposing governmental hopeful.
I have always been a proponent of getting out to the polls and having your voice heard, but the relentless slew of trash talking on television recently, has left me bitter and disenfranchised.
If I saw those beady eyes on Rick Scott's face, or that ever present, slick, little grin on Alex Sink's mug one more time, I think I may have turned off my television forever. (Which may actually have been a blessing in disguise.)
Tonight citizens of Florida gathered at their local polling places, eager to make a difference, most with absolutely no clue about the candidate's intentions, for whom they were about to vote.
We no longer look at the issues. We simply choose sides, put on a blind fold, and vote straight Republican or straight Democrat.
Whether you agree with a party's core principles or not, you still need to do some research. Just because a candidate is on your team by name, it doesn't make them a good team-mate.
I drove passed several polling places tonight, with the intention of stopping to observe or maybe even vote, but I could not bring myself to park the car.
I refused to subject myself to the tortures of watching people, clueless people, blindly show their allegiance to someone they knew noting about.
Granted, there are many politically savvy individuals out there. I do not claim to be one of those savvy individuals myself, but at least I did the country a favor and stayed home, rather than closing my eyes and tossing some votes around carelessly.
We (Myself included) need to make a change. We need to stand up for ourselves and stop acting like mindless drones. Until that happens, we will consistently elect the same types of individuals who are bringing this country to the ground, one clueless idiot at a time.
Election day is finally here. I, for one, have been eagerly awaiting this day for months.
I have been on the edge of my seat, eager for for November 2nd to arrive.
Did I vote? Well, that's another matter.
What I was so excited for was not the chance to make a difference, but the chance to watch television without having to witness some political candidate bashing their opponent.
Smear campaigns have been around since the times of Boss Tweed and Tammany Hall, but never have they been so blatant.
Candidates don't even feign an attempt to have a plan or a stance on any of the issues. Instead, they simply hire a camera crew and a writer and tear into the soul of the opposing governmental hopeful.
I have always been a proponent of getting out to the polls and having your voice heard, but the relentless slew of trash talking on television recently, has left me bitter and disenfranchised.
If I saw those beady eyes on Rick Scott's face, or that ever present, slick, little grin on Alex Sink's mug one more time, I think I may have turned off my television forever. (Which may actually have been a blessing in disguise.)
Tonight citizens of Florida gathered at their local polling places, eager to make a difference, most with absolutely no clue about the candidate's intentions, for whom they were about to vote.
We no longer look at the issues. We simply choose sides, put on a blind fold, and vote straight Republican or straight Democrat.
Whether you agree with a party's core principles or not, you still need to do some research. Just because a candidate is on your team by name, it doesn't make them a good team-mate.
I drove passed several polling places tonight, with the intention of stopping to observe or maybe even vote, but I could not bring myself to park the car.
I refused to subject myself to the tortures of watching people, clueless people, blindly show their allegiance to someone they knew noting about.
Granted, there are many politically savvy individuals out there. I do not claim to be one of those savvy individuals myself, but at least I did the country a favor and stayed home, rather than closing my eyes and tossing some votes around carelessly.
We (Myself included) need to make a change. We need to stand up for ourselves and stop acting like mindless drones. Until that happens, we will consistently elect the same types of individuals who are bringing this country to the ground, one clueless idiot at a time.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Medical Examiner's Office
Um...Well...I...I am at a loss for words.
It all started out innocently enough. A field trip to the Medical Examiner's office to learn what public records were available to us there, and how we could go about obtaining them. Sounds great!
Vernard Adams, Chief Medical Examiner for Hillsborough County, spoke to us in board room setting. Innocent.
Dick Bailey lead my half of the group around the facilities to show us how they operate. Innocent...
No! Not at all innocent.
As we made our way through the actual morgue unit, an eerie air crept over the group.
You could almost reach out and grab a handful of the uneasiness that hovered around us.
The first sense of that feeling came as we entered the cooler where the bodies were stored. Fortunately there were no bodies, but it was an awkward foreshadowing of what was to come.
As we exited that cooler, Bailey slipped a key card from his side. He swiped it over a scanner and two metal doors slid open, allowing us access to what, three days later, is still vividly playing in the theater of my mind.
Through a few more doors we came to the morgue. At first it seemed empty, but looking to my left I noticed an operating table complete with tiny chunks of what could only be human meat particles...oh and yes a red watery substance that trickled down to the drainage hole at the bottom.
We continued on, thinking we had made it passed the gore.
Then...there it was!
Like a scene from one of the famous Saw movies, a body lie torn apart on a gurney. Its rib cage sliced open and pulled aside, revealing an empty chest cavity. It looked like a fresh kill you might see on the Discovery Channel.
My gaze moved up toward the head, revealing an even worse horror. The skin of the man's (from what I could tell it was a man in his early 60's) face had been peeled from its skull and lay in a mess, covering the chin area.
The skull and brain seemed to have been removed, as though the victim had the innards of his head sucked out by a powerful vacuum.
Bailey continued on as though the elephant in the room was not there.
Gasps and groans could be heard from the group, but no one appeared to want to be the first to speak up about their disgust.
Mercifully we were lead away, into the safe haven, or so we thought, of the x-ray room.
As Bailey informed us of how the room operated, a mad scientist (at least that's how he looked in my mind) waltzed through the door. He may as well have been whistling while he worked with that sly grin.
It was not him that was unnerving, but what he was carrying. In his left hand he held the cap of what looked like a skull, complete with various substances dripping from it.
He quickly apologized, claiming he didn't realize we were in there. This was clearly a lie.
Again Bailey wrapped up his speech as though this were all routine and then lead us back out into the den of horrors.
One last time we scampered passed the remains of the poor soul that lie sprawled across the cold, plastic table.
Finally out into the fresh air, I was able to catch my breath again.
Unfortunately the traumatic nature of that situation left me unable to grasp any of the public records concepts that were the ultimate goal of the trip.
I did however take one public records anecdote with me. Autopsy photos are not available as public record, yet Bailey and his associates had no problem leading us into the depths of their strange lair, hiding nothing.
I spent the rest of that day trying to shake the image of that sliced up cadaver. I kept wondering what happened to him.
Was he the victim of a homicide? Did he perish in a terrible car accident? I guess if I really wanted to I could go back there and request the records on him, but I am not going near that place again unless absolutely necessary.
What a strange day. My advice to you: If you are ever in a class that offers a field trip to the medical examiner's office, call in sick that day.
It all started out innocently enough. A field trip to the Medical Examiner's office to learn what public records were available to us there, and how we could go about obtaining them. Sounds great!
Vernard Adams, Chief Medical Examiner for Hillsborough County, spoke to us in board room setting. Innocent.
Dick Bailey lead my half of the group around the facilities to show us how they operate. Innocent...
No! Not at all innocent.
As we made our way through the actual morgue unit, an eerie air crept over the group.
You could almost reach out and grab a handful of the uneasiness that hovered around us.
The first sense of that feeling came as we entered the cooler where the bodies were stored. Fortunately there were no bodies, but it was an awkward foreshadowing of what was to come.
As we exited that cooler, Bailey slipped a key card from his side. He swiped it over a scanner and two metal doors slid open, allowing us access to what, three days later, is still vividly playing in the theater of my mind.
Through a few more doors we came to the morgue. At first it seemed empty, but looking to my left I noticed an operating table complete with tiny chunks of what could only be human meat particles...oh and yes a red watery substance that trickled down to the drainage hole at the bottom.
We continued on, thinking we had made it passed the gore.
Then...there it was!
Like a scene from one of the famous Saw movies, a body lie torn apart on a gurney. Its rib cage sliced open and pulled aside, revealing an empty chest cavity. It looked like a fresh kill you might see on the Discovery Channel.
My gaze moved up toward the head, revealing an even worse horror. The skin of the man's (from what I could tell it was a man in his early 60's) face had been peeled from its skull and lay in a mess, covering the chin area.
The skull and brain seemed to have been removed, as though the victim had the innards of his head sucked out by a powerful vacuum.
Bailey continued on as though the elephant in the room was not there.
Gasps and groans could be heard from the group, but no one appeared to want to be the first to speak up about their disgust.
Mercifully we were lead away, into the safe haven, or so we thought, of the x-ray room.
As Bailey informed us of how the room operated, a mad scientist (at least that's how he looked in my mind) waltzed through the door. He may as well have been whistling while he worked with that sly grin.
It was not him that was unnerving, but what he was carrying. In his left hand he held the cap of what looked like a skull, complete with various substances dripping from it.
He quickly apologized, claiming he didn't realize we were in there. This was clearly a lie.
Again Bailey wrapped up his speech as though this were all routine and then lead us back out into the den of horrors.
One last time we scampered passed the remains of the poor soul that lie sprawled across the cold, plastic table.
Finally out into the fresh air, I was able to catch my breath again.
Unfortunately the traumatic nature of that situation left me unable to grasp any of the public records concepts that were the ultimate goal of the trip.
I did however take one public records anecdote with me. Autopsy photos are not available as public record, yet Bailey and his associates had no problem leading us into the depths of their strange lair, hiding nothing.
I spent the rest of that day trying to shake the image of that sliced up cadaver. I kept wondering what happened to him.
Was he the victim of a homicide? Did he perish in a terrible car accident? I guess if I really wanted to I could go back there and request the records on him, but I am not going near that place again unless absolutely necessary.
What a strange day. My advice to you: If you are ever in a class that offers a field trip to the medical examiner's office, call in sick that day.
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