When Worlds Collide

In my line of work, I get to cover a lot of high school sporting events. I have to admit that's really one of the parts of the job I like. I cut my teeth in the journalism world as a sports reporter. While these days I'm usually just lending a hand shooting photos at these games, it still takes me back to a simpler time in my life.

My love of sports — combined with my lack of true talent playing them — led me down a path to a journalism career. Simply put, I've always been a huge sports fan. It started at an early age and can probably be directly attributed to my father's love of sports.

So, knowing that my eldest son has also developed a love of sports is somewhat rewarding to me. Let's be honest, whether everyone believes it or not, being a small-town journalist means lots of time away from the family covering different events. But anyone who has seen me shooting photos at a game, knows that a lot of the times I have my son in tow with me. He loves sports and he loves the time he gets to spend with me covering sports.



That being said, unfortunately my job isn't all just sports. Sometimes I have to cover more unpleasant stories.

Tonight was one of those nights.

When I got the call about a Kaufman ISD child being fatally struck by a vehicle while getting off a school bus, I did what I usually do: grabbed a camera and a note pad to head to the scene.

My son grabbed his jacket to follow. He couldn't understand why I wouldn't let him. I didn't have the time or the heart at the moment to tell him why.

As most of you may have read by now, it was a 7-year-old KISD student who died. A first-grader at Monday Primary School...just like my son. Chances are pretty good my son as well as his sister — a second-grader — knew the child. Chances are equally good that tomorrow won't be a typical school day for them.

I spent some time out at the scene of the accident. I gathered with the Dallas television media to hear the DPS press conference. I had a long talk with a saddened school superintendent who was having to field questions about a fourth KISD student death in the same school year — a "very tough year" as he put it. I rushed home and put a story online.

I did all that because it's my job.

What I did next, though, was probably more important...at least to me.

My wife and I gathered our children together and told them what happened. We reminded them that walking across traffic is always dangerous, even when they are allowed to do it. We cautioned them that sometimes — no matter how safe they are being — someone else may not be following the rules. We told them that sometimes bad things just happen.

And then we pulled them all together into a big, six-person, sloppy, extended hug. Two misty-eyed parents, two sad but confused primary students and a couple of giggling toddlers.

It was the type of hug that reminded me how precious my little howler monkeys can be.

Unfortunately, it was also the kind of night that brought to light how awkward it can be when my worlds collide.