One thing we are always told is this:
You are never NOT a journalist.
So, you are always on the lookout for news happening around you.
Every conversation could turn into a story idea.
This was the case on Sunday.
It was a relaxing day — a very nice, warm day.
I was on the golf course with Brad Chapulis, enjoying what could be my final round of the day.
At the end of the round, my girlfriend, Kelsey, called.
“Um… you need to get home.”
Well, I figured that out pretty quick.
As I pulled up to my house, I was greeted with Worthington Police Department cars and an ambulance.
I still wasn’t sure what was going on.
And then I saw it.
A car was lodged between my house and my neighbors.
A gentleman, out for a Sunday afternoon drive, had crashed through my backyard neighbors shed, drove through a row of bushes, through my yard before hitting my neighbors deck and coming to rest.
Allegedly, the two in the car fled the scene on foot. One of my neighbors was chasing them with a rake, according to a witness.
The WPD officers caught the individuals. The driver blew at least a .16 blood alcohol level. He was arrested in front of my neighbors house.
So, naturally, being a journalist, I pulled out my phone and started taking pictures. I took pictures of the car, the bushes, what was left of the shed and of the person getting arrested. Some of them appeared in the paper the following day.
I told one of the officers that if this guy didn’t want to be in the paper, he shouldn’t have done something like this next door to a Daily Globe reporter’s house. But if it would have been across town and I would have driven past it, I still would have stopped.
That’s what happens when you are a journalist. You stop. You listen. You pay attention.
But on this Sunday afternoon, I didn’t have to work too hard to find this story.