Covering a Community Tragedy

'They want readers to know about their loved ones; they want readers to know that there was more to them than a tragic crime.'

Less than 48 hours after sitting in on Joe Hight's seminar on "Covering Tragedy and Victims" at the National Writers' Workshop in Wilmington, I arrived at work and was immediately sent out to rural Hegins Township, Pa., to learn about the three children killed over the weekend by their mother.

It was typical parachute journalism — drop in, talk to as many people as possible, learn as much as possible and put a face on these three young victims.

To be honest, I've covered too many of these stories in my career. I think most of us agree that one is too many. It's tough, emotionally, to approach the families and friends of people lost in tragic circumstances and the one thing I keep foremost in my mind is "how would I feel if the roles were reversed?"

What I really wanted to do was find people who knew the children, who could help me portray them as real people, not just remote victims. I have to say that luck was a major part of the story.

The school district superintendent was very helpful and offered good, basic background on the children, the impact of the crime in the community and the school, and good color on how the community was so inter-related. A pastor who had spent the day counseling school students came to the administration building while I was with the superintendent, and it turned out he knew the middle daughter well because she was in his church youth group.

After those interviews, the photographer and I drove up and down the main road of the small villages, looking for some sort of place where kids might gather after school. We lucked out when we saw several outside a local church. The pastor at that church had offered his church hall to the students who were friends of the victims, and he offered to talk to some to see who would talk to us.

He returned with Kristin's four closest friends.

As I said, I always think about how I would feel in their position. I told them what I wanted to do, that I wanted readers to know who these kids were, and I wanted them to tell me about Kirstin and her brother and sister.

The one thing I have learned in my career is that people often want to talk at a time like that. They want readers to know about their loved ones; they want readers to know that there was more to them than a tragic crime.

In this case, I was able to truthfully tell the girls that I lost my best friend at age 21 when he was killed in an automobile accident. I think it helps when people know you can relate to their circumstances.

But usually, you can't relate. Say that. Tell the person you have no idea how they feel and cannot comprehend what they are going through. Ask them to explain how they are coping, who they turn to for support, what's likely to happen next. Ask them for their favorite memory, when did they last see the victim and what the circumstances were of that event. It turned out these girls were all at a party when the mother came for Kirstin — apparently after she had already killed Jared and Kelsey.

As for writing the story, I had time to organize my thoughts on the way back to the newsroom because the crime occurred more than an hour away from Allentown. I was writing the sidebar, which gave me a bit more leeway because I didn't have to deal with the nitty-gritty of the crime and investigation. That gave me the freedom to focus primarily on the victims and the impact of the crime.

I wanted to write strong, I wanted to paint a picture of the lives cut short, and the best way to do that, I felt, was by writing not only about where these kids had been in their lives, but where they were going — to the prom, to New Mexico, to art school.

My advice is to remember that you are writing about people, you are interviewing people, and you are a real person. Let your humanity guide you. And if someone doesn't want to talk, back off. Leave a card or a phone number, if they will accept it, and leave graciously. Maybe you can call back later in the day or week, but some people just don't want to talk.

Trying to force it won't help anyone.