The following article was posted on line at the PATTERSON IRRIGATOR website and portrays in interesting perspective from a reporter's point of view. This type of press does nothing good for the local dive team and it can have a tremendous negative influence in a community where politicians approve budgets, citizens pay taxes, etc.
The old adage, "The pen is mightier than the sword" comes to mind when I read this. I would guess that the physical dive operation was flawless in it's execution but I wonder how things may have been portrayed differently if this reporter was invited by the dive team to "cross the line" by the PIO and the challenges of the dive operation were explained; and the "risk/benefit analysis" was also explained.
I also think about the reporter stating that a diver yelled at him. Who got to say (write) the final word in this verbal altercation?
Please know I am not criticizing the dive team, nor am I "Monday morning quarterbacking" this operation. I simple throw this article out for the purpose of discussion and in hopes all dive team members will consider the benefits of working with the press so information is reported factually.
Happy New Year...
Blades Robinson
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Patterson Irrigator | Your Local Paper - The year in photos...
Written by Elias Funez | Patterson Irrigator Wednesday, 31 December 2008
The deadliest accident
The morning of July 15 started like any other Tuesday, generally a slower day for me, when we got the call on the emergency radio scanner for a vehicle in the canal around Needham Road, just northwest of town.
I've been to a few of these types of calls before, and the outcomes were never good. Sometimes those that find themselves in one of the aqueducts can get themselves out safely, but many times they donÃÕ.
I arrived at the scene as the first representative from any media organization, hoping for the best, keeping my eyes and ears open and trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.
A few emergency first-responders were already on the scene, their eyes on the waters of the Delta-Mendota. A few fieldworkers had gathered near the edges of the nearby peach orchards they were working in, with blank faces and solemn voices as they, too, kept watch, hoping anything would surface.
A sheriff's helicopter broke the silence as it flew low over the canal, hovering shortly before flying downstream. Everyone stood around, wanting to do something to help as we all awaited the arrival of the sheriff's dive team. Every minute that went by was hope lost, that maybe just maybe someone could be alive down there.
Finally the dive unit arrived, but they didn't just jump into the water like I thought they would. First they looked, and looked, and they set up their fancy trailer with its canopy and set out their lawn chairs. I realized that they weren't going to try and save anyone this was a recovery effort.
More time passed, and no one had entered the water yet.
When the word got out that there might be six to eight people down there and that this might be the worst Delta-Mendota Canal accident of its kind, more and more media folks began to trickle in. The Modesto Bee, KXTV, KCRA, Univision, the San Francisco Chronicle.
Then the family members showed up. It wasn't hard to tell who they were.
Again the silence at the scene was broken, this time with a hysterical mother demanding answers from the nearby officers, tears streaming down her face as she was held back by another solemn family member.
That's the worst part about my job being there when something like that happens, but I guess someone's got to be there to tell others, to show people what happens when freak accidents occur so that hopefully they can be prevented in the future.
And show people I did.
I got a call from then-Managing Editor Jonathan Partridge, telling me that The Associated Press had contacted Cheri Matthews at the Tracy Press and wondered if they had any photos that could be put on the wire. The turnaround would have to be quick, but I had seen enough out there and was ready to get back to the Irrigator. Just after leaving the scene, I noticed Catholic priest Fr. Bernie Quinn and Fr. Mike Walsh driving up. I was really glad they were there.
So back on the computer at the Irrigator, I quickly got eight images ready for publishing, and by that evening my photos were being used in online and print publications across the nation, from a Page 2 photo in the Sacramento Bee to the Los Angeles Times, San Francisco Chronicle and ABC News, to a slideshow in the Washington Post.
I didn't know why so many people wanted to see this. Nobody made a fuss about all the other lives lost in those dreaded canals over the years. But with awareness hopefully comes education and prevention.
I ended up returning to the scene, expecting more progress in the recovery efforts, but everything seemed the same. Master tow-truck driver Doug Borges had shown up with his huge trucks ready to start retrieving vehicles, but even he was standing aside.
With the slew of media people at the scene when I returned, I felt I was capturing everything that everyone else was seeing and noticed that no one was on the other side of the canal as the first vehicle was being towed up. Shifting vantage points would show the towing efforts more clearly, but I still didn't want to be too visible, for I could draw unneeded attention from police officers or competing news agencies.
I was noticed quickly, but the first officer who approached me was very polite, informing me that I could go anywhere except on the bridge where the dive team was working. I still kept my distance and wisely so, for an irate dive team member began to yell at me even though I was behind the police tape. I wasn't telling him how to do his job, and I would expect the same courtesy from him.
After a while, Modesto Bee photographers Bart Ah You and Adrian Mendoza took note of my vantage point and joined me on my side of the canal. It was quite frustrating, considering they have a later deadline for a newspaper that would come out the very next day and my photographs would be essentially the same, yet wouldn't be published until our Saturday edition.
Still, the recovery efforts were long and arduous and went into the night, well after my friendly competition returned to their home base, so I was able to capture what others didn't stick around for the recovery of the second vehicle, which happened sometime around midnight. Seven people died.
The old adage, "The pen is mightier than the sword" comes to mind when I read this. I would guess that the physical dive operation was flawless in it's execution but I wonder how things may have been portrayed differently if this reporter was invited by the dive team to "cross the line" by the PIO and the challenges of the dive operation were explained; and the "risk/benefit analysis" was also explained.
I also think about the reporter stating that a diver yelled at him. Who got to say (write) the final word in this verbal altercation?
Please know I am not criticizing the dive team, nor am I "Monday morning quarterbacking" this operation. I simple throw this article out for the purpose of discussion and in hopes all dive team members will consider the benefits of working with the press so information is reported factually.
Happy New Year...
Blades Robinson
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Patterson Irrigator | Your Local Paper - The year in photos...
Written by Elias Funez | Patterson Irrigator Wednesday, 31 December 2008
Family members grieve and rescue teams watch the water of the Delta-Mendota Canal after two vehicles crashed and plunged into the waterway in July, killing seven people.
Family members grieve and rescue teams watch the water of the Delta-Mendota Canal after two vehicles crashed and plunged into the waterway in July, killing seven people.
The deadliest accident
The morning of July 15 started like any other Tuesday, generally a slower day for me, when we got the call on the emergency radio scanner for a vehicle in the canal around Needham Road, just northwest of town.
I've been to a few of these types of calls before, and the outcomes were never good. Sometimes those that find themselves in one of the aqueducts can get themselves out safely, but many times they donÃÕ.
I arrived at the scene as the first representative from any media organization, hoping for the best, keeping my eyes and ears open and trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.
A few emergency first-responders were already on the scene, their eyes on the waters of the Delta-Mendota. A few fieldworkers had gathered near the edges of the nearby peach orchards they were working in, with blank faces and solemn voices as they, too, kept watch, hoping anything would surface.
A sheriff's helicopter broke the silence as it flew low over the canal, hovering shortly before flying downstream. Everyone stood around, wanting to do something to help as we all awaited the arrival of the sheriff's dive team. Every minute that went by was hope lost, that maybe just maybe someone could be alive down there.
Finally the dive unit arrived, but they didn't just jump into the water like I thought they would. First they looked, and looked, and they set up their fancy trailer with its canopy and set out their lawn chairs. I realized that they weren't going to try and save anyone this was a recovery effort.
More time passed, and no one had entered the water yet.
When the word got out that there might be six to eight people down there and that this might be the worst Delta-Mendota Canal accident of its kind, more and more media folks began to trickle in. The Modesto Bee, KXTV, KCRA, Univision, the San Francisco Chronicle.
Then the family members showed up. It wasn't hard to tell who they were.
Again the silence at the scene was broken, this time with a hysterical mother demanding answers from the nearby officers, tears streaming down her face as she was held back by another solemn family member.
That's the worst part about my job being there when something like that happens, but I guess someone's got to be there to tell others, to show people what happens when freak accidents occur so that hopefully they can be prevented in the future.
And show people I did.
I got a call from then-Managing Editor Jonathan Partridge, telling me that The Associated Press had contacted Cheri Matthews at the Tracy Press and wondered if they had any photos that could be put on the wire. The turnaround would have to be quick, but I had seen enough out there and was ready to get back to the Irrigator. Just after leaving the scene, I noticed Catholic priest Fr. Bernie Quinn and Fr. Mike Walsh driving up. I was really glad they were there.
So back on the computer at the Irrigator, I quickly got eight images ready for publishing, and by that evening my photos were being used in online and print publications across the nation, from a Page 2 photo in the Sacramento Bee to the Los Angeles Times, San Francisco Chronicle and ABC News, to a slideshow in the Washington Post.
I didn't know why so many people wanted to see this. Nobody made a fuss about all the other lives lost in those dreaded canals over the years. But with awareness hopefully comes education and prevention.
I ended up returning to the scene, expecting more progress in the recovery efforts, but everything seemed the same. Master tow-truck driver Doug Borges had shown up with his huge trucks ready to start retrieving vehicles, but even he was standing aside.
With the slew of media people at the scene when I returned, I felt I was capturing everything that everyone else was seeing and noticed that no one was on the other side of the canal as the first vehicle was being towed up. Shifting vantage points would show the towing efforts more clearly, but I still didn't want to be too visible, for I could draw unneeded attention from police officers or competing news agencies.
I was noticed quickly, but the first officer who approached me was very polite, informing me that I could go anywhere except on the bridge where the dive team was working. I still kept my distance and wisely so, for an irate dive team member began to yell at me even though I was behind the police tape. I wasn't telling him how to do his job, and I would expect the same courtesy from him.
After a while, Modesto Bee photographers Bart Ah You and Adrian Mendoza took note of my vantage point and joined me on my side of the canal. It was quite frustrating, considering they have a later deadline for a newspaper that would come out the very next day and my photographs would be essentially the same, yet wouldn't be published until our Saturday edition.
Still, the recovery efforts were long and arduous and went into the night, well after my friendly competition returned to their home base, so I was able to capture what others didn't stick around for the recovery of the second vehicle, which happened sometime around midnight. Seven people died.
