My Soundslides 3 assignment is posted.

This story was made in the spirit of I.F. Stone. So when I think about how boring the pictures are, I’m going to remind myself that Stone never would have been concerned with images.

I’m going to be oblique in this post, to try to avoid the Google spider. I want to talk about my story experience without it being searched up and discussed by the powers-that-be.

I had a really hard time with this story.

Starting off, the day after we locked into our topics, I get an e-mail from the council president telling me that the town won’t allow a tour of the plant and none of the officials would talk to me. What can I say? I’m not real popular on town because of the blog.

I never should have pitched something for a grade that had to do with the town. But it seemed like I was going to get access. Believe it or not, I’ve been OFFERED access to the plant in the past. The freaking radio station transmits from the plant.

So by the time I got the first e-mail from the prez, I’d already contacted the mayor asking to nail down a time for the interview and tour. He decided to meet with me anyway. I heard back from the council prez — he said it was a security issue. I might give away the town’s water plant secrets. Ironically, I already knew about some of them from hearing them discussed at meetings. The rest were detailed in the various paperwork I’ve collected from the last two years. But that issue I understood.

My interview with the mayor… at first, I thought it was going pretty well. He was a talker. Colorful. It was in his kitchen. His wife HATES me. Not hate with a little ‘h,’ either. She called me this summer on my cell after I wrote a story about some school meetings not following the Sunshine Law. She was so offensive that I told her to write me an e-mail and hung up on her. And hanging up is rude. I don’t believe in it. But I also don’t believe in being blindly abused. So, it was a fun reunion. She didn’t speak to me very much.

I had my questions. Typed, ready for me to jot times in… He walked around most of them on his own. What I wanted was pretty simple. But then I got to the inconsistencies. He talked about water tables that I am pretty sure don’t exist. I’ve been doing some serious reading on regional water of late and nothing he said about that jived — at all. Clearly, it’s not usable. Not like it would have fit into two minutes, anyway.

Then, there was the veiled threat. He’s not a violent man, he says, but when he gets angry “blood flies.” I thought he was talking in generalities about the kind of man he was and all… he said “if you lay a hand on me…” I thought he meant “you” like in the collective you form. Like y’all and ustedes. Then, it kinda dawned on me that the man was sending me a message. I said something like – oh, I don’t ever put a hand on anyone. He clarified pretty clearly that if I crossed him, he’d defend himself or get someone else to.

Good times. I don’t scare easily. When it comes to bullies, I seem to be missing the intimidation gene. It pisses me off instead, makes me more determined. Sends up my “look-there’s-a-story-here” radar.

As I progressed through this story, the grapevine was saying something entirely different in regards to the water plant. Unfortunately, you can’t quote the grapevine. Point being, word is they’ve had the water plant worked on because it’s in pretty bad shape. People living near it reported there were workmen there this week. I had to wonder if just asking the question freaked them out enough to work on the issues.

I guess it’s not surprising that it’s in bad shape. I’ve suspected this for awhile. I’ve been going to council meetings for two years. I pay every month for copies of the financials, etc. It’s no secret that they’ve not put alot of money into the water plant until recently. It’s also not surprising that this did not come out in the interview with the mayor… you know I asked specifically.

Another thing that’s new is the fear factor is heightened. The town has its own little yellow, orange, red fear factor level alert. Another group in the grapevine started talking to me one night about town issues, water issues, then after it got dark and they realized anyone could be on the street listening to them, they kind of freaked out. So, recording that stuff is not an option. I hate fear. It stinks. Literally.

For me, this would have been a better in-depth written story. People will more easily go on the record without a mic in their faces. There were a couple layers of depth involving the condition of the water plant that I had to drop from the story due to time — when I really think that’s the more timely issue. But the dilapidation is symptomatic of the issue of the rates. But it’s the most serious issue at hand, I think. But the rate focus works better with the other research I am putting into the graphic. So, you give things up.

I might write more about this later. I might also delete it. Like I said, I’m being purposely oblique about this. Anybody know if I can make this viewable to only y’all?