Week 3: Overnight at WEKT-TV
The telephone was ringing. It was always ringing. “EKT Newsroom. this is Jackie, how can I help you?”
“Is they skoo in Pearl County tomar?”
This was the seventh or eighth time Jaclyn had heard this exact question since her shift started just over an hour ago. Sure, the information was on the screen 24/7 with their “School-Alert” graphics. And sure, their website had a list of all school closing in the region. And their social media accounts had the info as well. But folks loved to call the TV station, she’d learned. And it was her job to man the news tip line.
“No, ma’am. They’ve called it off for snow. It’s an NTI day.” Jaclyn shot her eyes to the bank of clocks on the far wall. It was just after 10pm. She was on until 7 tomorrow morning.
“Alright, thank ye,” the voice on the other end of the line said. There was a click and Jaclyn hung up the phone.
The newsroom was abuzz with activity as producers and reporters prepared for the live broadcast less than an hour away. It wasn’t anywhere near the level Jaclyn had seen when she interned in Boston last summer; there, they had dozens of folks working on each newscast. Here at EKT, a handful of producers were responsible for each show and a few more reporters went out and covered the stories in the community. Most of the work happened during the morning and in the afternoon for the 6 o’clock news. But a few folks were still here, cutting stories for the late news.
A crash of plastic and person came from the far end of the newsroom. Jaclyn looked up to see a mousy girl wearing a pink pants suit and high heels picking herself, and about a dozen old tapes, off of the floor. “You ok, Jess?” Jaclyn called across the room.
Jess made it to her feet, unsteadily, and collected the tapes. She wobbled to a nearby desk with an editing suite. “Still getting used to these heels.” she said exasperated. Jess was another new hire here at EKT. She came from Nashville and had a background in radio. She and Jaclyn lived across the hall from each other in the apartment complex next to the station. This was her first day solo as a reporter, and she wanted to present a good story for her big debut.
Jaclyn was only an hour and a half into her first overnight shift when the late news started. Jim, the long time anchor at EKT, sat alone at his desk in the studio. A man in his late 50s, he had been leading this news team for almost half of his life. Jaclyn liked working with him, so far anyway. He was friendly and knowledgeable and didn’t care to share with the young staff that worked underneath him.
The phone rang. It was Jess. “My story’s not ready! What do I do?” she sobbed into the phone.
Jaclyn took a deep breath. “Finish it and get it in. We will push it to block 5.” She hung up the phone
“Standby camera 1,” the director said as the show hit the air. Jaclyn was sitting in the producers stand, but Jim had done the majority of the work on this broadcast. She was only there in case something went wrong, and to give him time cues. The next thirty minutes seemed to fly by as Jim read stories about the legislative session starting in Frankfort, drug busts in Harlan, car wrecks in Hazard and a seven-year-old girl hosting a lemonade stand to raise money for her sick granny here in Black Grass.
After the news, Jim gave a stern but necessary talk to Jess, who looked like a deer in high beams. Other notes and corrections were discussed and the post show meeting was over. Now, the graveyard shift truly began.
The first folks out the door were the sports guys. In her two weeks working for EKT, Jaclyn had quickly learned that Animal House had nothing on the sports department located at the end of the hall. To say they were a bunch of frat gays was an understatement. But when she found out that the sports director, the head of the department, was a woman in her 40s who could out drink, out cuss and out party all of these guys in their 20s that worked for her, Jaclyn was both shocked and impressed. She was happy to have been placed in the news department after spending just a few days around them, though.
Next to leave were the production team: camera operators, graphic designers, audio engineers and directors who are responsible for getting the show from the newsroom to the television. Jaclyn hadn’t spent much time with these guys but they seemed friendly enough. One of these guys, Teddy, was the Master Control Operator. He would be one of the three EKT folks with her in the building overnight.
Jess walked over to the Jaclyn’s desk after the rest of the newsroom had left. Jim’s speech must have hit her pretty hard, and she was fighting back tears. “I’m gonna quit!” she said under her breath as she plopped down into a chair.
“You probably should,” Jaclyn replied calmly. Jess looked back at her, eyes wide, mouth agape. This must not have been the response she was expecting.
“What are you talking about?”
Jaclyn cleared her throat and leaned toward her coworker. “Jess, I like you. You seem like a nice person. But we had to push your story back 20 minutes tonight because it wasn’t ready. Jim was more than fair with what he said to you. It’s your job to have a story done every night for the late news. And tonight, it wasn’t ready. So, you can either learn from this and get better, or go home and find something else to do. And it sounds like you want to find something else.” She thought back to all of the times she’d seen reporters, men and women who had spent ten’s if not hundreds of thousands of dollars and countless hours getting journalism degrees question their entire existence after being brought to tears during her internship last summer. It had hardened her a little, and she was thankful for the experience.
Jess nodded her head and grabbed a tissue from the corner of the desk. She blotted her eyes. “See you tomorrow evening?” she asked.
“I’ll be in at 9:30,” Jaclyn said with a smile. Jess grabbed her purse and headed out the newsroom door. Most of the lights in the building were now off and almost all the staff had left for the day.
The telephone rang. “EKT Newsroom. This is Jackie, how can I help you?”
The voice of a small child, probably six or seven, came through the receiver. “Have we got school tomorrow?” she asked.
Jaclyn smiled at hearing such a sweet voice. “What school do you go to, sweetie?”
“John’s Creek Elementary.” Her voice had a strong accent that made her sound almost out of time. She sounded old for her age, somehow.
A quick internet search showed Jaclyn what district the young girl’s school was in. “You’re on a two-hour delay right now. But there may be some snow coming in tonight, so check in again in the morning. And isn’t it past your bed time?”
The little girl giggled as if she were caught. “Maw don’t know I’m still up.” Jaclyn could hear the glee in her voice.
“Well, you’ll get to sleep in a little no matter what, OK?” Jaclyn felt warm talking to this little girl. It reminded her of playing with her young cousins back home in Boston.
The little girl hung up and Jaclyn felt a presence in the room with her. She looked up to see Annabeth Cole, the morning Meteorologist standing in the doorway, white as a ghost. “Jackie, we got a problem,” the statuesque blonde said. It was hours until she went on the air, but Annabeth almost always looked camera ready. She strode off quickly toward the set, stopping in the “Lightning Quick Weather Center.” The large screen showed a long band of white and pink moving toward the mountains of East Kentucky.
Jaclyn had followed quickly behind and stared at the screen, puzzled. “What is it I’m looking at here?” she asked.
“This is a freak sleet and ice storm that was supposed to go fifty miles south of here and be mostly rain.” Her eyes darted to another, smaller screen on the side. “.75 inches of ice over the next six hours expected for most of the region. This is a legit weather emergency!”
The new producer looked around the room, subconsciously trying to find someone in charge. “So, what are we supposed to do? Like break into the broadcast”
Annabeth turned to look at Jaclyn, her brow furrowed. “You’re the producer. It’s your call.”
A wave of panic washed over her. It was her first night soloing as producer, and she was not anticipating a major weather event. Breaking into network could cost the station revenue in the form of commercial time and national allocations. “Let me call Jim!” she said, unwilling to make that kind of decision on her own.
The phone was ringing. She heard the familiar trill in her ear four or five times before a calm voice came on the line. “Hello, you’ve reached Jim Morgan. I’m not able to take…” Jaclyn smashed in the 1 button on her phone and heard a loud beep.
“Jim, this is Jackie. There’s a massive ice storm coming through in about an hour or so. Do we cut in to overnight programming with Annabeth and cover it? Call me back.”
Annabeth walked around the console and stood next to Jaclyn. “No answer?” she asked, knowing the answer.
“You’ve been here a little longer than me. What do you think? Break in and cover it?” Jaclyn starred up at the weather girl, who stood a good foot taller.
“It’s your call. Pro’s: we might keep some people off the roads and give them some time to prepare for power outages. Cons: we lose the station some money and may get reprimanded or fired.” She smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
Jaclyn shuddered at the thought of being fired. She would never tell anyone at EKT, but this was the only station that had given her an interview, much less offered her a job. “Let’s do it!”
For the next five hours, Jaclyn manned the booth while Annabeth went over the latest weather information. Even Teddy, the quiet Master Control Operator, was getting in on the action, making suggestions and helping any way he could. When the morning crew came in, it was time to start the broadcast and the team seamlessly slipped into the AM news and covered the weather and the previous day’s news, plus previewed events scheduled for later that afternoon. After it was over, Jaclyn felt both exhilarated and exhausted.
When the last segment of the AM news ended, she felt a vibration in her pocket. She reached in and pulled out her station issued cell. “Good job!” was all the text from Jim said.
After a long day, Jaclyn gathered up her mug and lunch container from her desk and placed them into her bag. Several of the day shift reporters had made their way into the newsroom now and the buzz of the room was starting to give her a headache.
The phone was ringing. No one seemed to be in a hurry to pick it up, so Jaclyn plopped down at her desk and answered. “EKT Newsroom. This is Jackie, how can I help you?”
“Is they skoo in Pearl County today?”