October, 1998

A WHOLE LOTTA I-40

That's the short version of the e-mail that started it all. During Hurricane Bonnie earlier this fall, I noticed several postings on the National Press Photographers' on-line discussion list about covering natural disasters. I replied to one of the postings wondering what it was like to cover a force of nature that is so destructive and unpredictable. I have lived in New Mexico my entire life. The closest thing to a natural disaster I have been in was a tornado that hit near Portales when I was in college. It moved my lawn chairs up the street to the parking lot of a convienience store, but no major damage. After Bonnie left the North Carolina coast, several photgraphers from WRAL in Raleigh chronicled their experiences on the discussion list. The photographer I originally wrote to then asked me to send him a tape of my stories in New Mexico. Two weeks later I was on a plane to Raleigh to interview with that photographer, WRAL Chief Photographer Richard Adkins. That is where my adventure begins.

I have lived in eight cities in New Mexico over the course of 20+ years (Roswell, Socorro, Maxwell, Raton, Portales, Roswell again, Las Cruces, Albuquerque and Santa Fe). I have 40 some books on New Mexico history, laws, geology, society and culture. I have studied the Land of Enchantment since I learned to read and traveled in every part of it. Name any town, no matter how small, and I guarantee I will know someone there or someone who knows someone there, kind of a two degrees of separation theory. New Mexico is my home, it is where my soul resides, but my mind felt the need to see some new stuff. It was tired of knowing so much history and so many people, but the stories I did on a daily basis at KOAT in Albuquerque did nothing to enrich their lives. I put up a good fight for several years, but the"it bleeds it leads" mentality quashed my spirit. It was time to go.

October 6, 6:04 PM

My pager went off as I drove from Albuquerque to Santa Fe. A "919" area code, this is it! I walked in the front door of my apartment, my caller ID flashed two 919 numbers. They would not call twice if it was not good news right? I called the number on my pager, Richard Adkins answered the phone. Less than two senteces later he asked, "So you want a job?" I did not even pause to think about it, "Yes, let's do it." October 7, 5:15 AM I awoke very startled, "I am moving away 1717 miles in three weeks, I am resigning from the station I wanted to work at since I was ten years old, is this for real?" I got up and checked my e-mail. There was an on-line postcard from WRAL welcoming me to North Carolina. Okay, it is for real, I need to write my resignation letter.

October 7, 7:15 AM

I had fantasized about a resignation on a grand scale, the kind people talk about for years. Burning it into the lawn infront of the station? A twenty page manifesto written in hand scrawled olde English? Printed T-shirts? I settled for a two sentence typed letter in a plain white envelope. Over the next two weeks I did everything for the last time. "This is the last time I will every work out of the Sat Truck, this is the last time I will every shoot an interview with the Attorney General, this is the last time I will ever wait at the stop light of Cerrillos and St. Francis." The nice thing about these "last times" is that in two weeks I would have all new "first times".

October 21, 10:30 AM

My last day at KOAT consisted of shooting a story on the east side of the Sandia moutains about a proposed Wal-Mart in a community of 500 people. As I shot my final story in New Mexico, it did not feel final. It had a very natural day-to-day beat to it. Even as I turned in my Betacam and tripod, it did not feel definitive. Lots of hugs and good wishes at the end of the day, and my time at KOAT, six years worth, was done. No slow drum beats, no sunset to ride into, no quiet weeping, no looking back.

October 22-25

Vacation in San Francisco. It was scheduled months before, the tickets were non-refunable and since I was heading even further east, I figured I better see the Pacific while I could still do it cheaply.

October 26, 10:00AM

I just need to pack the truck, lock the door and in 26 hours I will be in downtown Raleigh.

October 26, 11:00AM

It is stating to rain. I will give it until 1:00 to clear.

October 26, 4:00PM

It has been raining cats and dogs for five hours. I have not seen it rain this hard in ten years. New Mexico is crying over my departure. It should be happy, I am headed to go play on the beach and eat crab cakes. I will give it one hour to clear or I will pack in the rain and make a run for the border.

October 26, 7:00PM

The truck is packed, everything is soaked, I am tired, cold and very wet, but North Carolina cannot wait any longer. 26 hours of driving on Interstate 40 East are ahead of me now. That is a very long time to spend with yourself in less than 20 cubic feet of truck cab. As I passed through Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Tennesee and North Carolina some big realities hit me.

All the names and places I have taken for granted for the past 20 years are meaningless now. I barely know how to get to my new home in Raleigh much less the police station, the courthouse, or even the grocery store. There will be no familiar faces when I show up for work that first day. There will be no friends to go out for a beer those first few weeks. There will be no shoulder to cry on after a bad day. But at the same time, there will be no history, no rumors or nasty newsroom gossip to be a part of and defend against. I did not get this job because of who I knew or where I worked. I did not even get it because I am a female. Richard thought I was a male Lynn for the first few e-mails. I got it based on my experience and ability, I take a lot of pride in that. It is a big adventure and I just happened to bring all my worldly possessions along for the ride. Stories that are so hum-drum to the people who have been in Raleigh a long time will be so exciting and new to me---tobacco, pig farming, the legislature.... I have never seen a light house, red trees in the fall or a debutante. I have never driven on a beltline, shucked clams, or smelled a hog lagoon. Now all these things will become as familiar to me as green chile, hot air balloons and luminarias.

October 28, 12:00 noon

Here I am in Raleigh, North Carolina. Let the adventure begin.

Lynn French

posted November 25, 1998