Happy Birthday Kevin

If you ever doubt that God has a subtle hand in what you're doing every day, you need to read this post. One of my stories in The Herald today features a 23-year-old Farmington man whose parents attempted to hide his drunken driving accident. You can question why I chose to name the parents or do the story at all, but not until after you hear about my brother-in-law Kevin. The youngest of three sons, Kevin was a blond-haired bright spot, always ready with a joke, always appreciating the wonder and humor in life. He opted to join the Army after high school and traveled the world, often sharing his "MRE"s, freeze-dried meals with poor children. He'd send home funny letters and once showed up on my doorstep unexpectedly to play with my daughters Jenn and Katie, then about three-and-a-half and two. They don't remember him and likely couldn't even pick out his face in family photos. Kevin died in June 1986 on the day he graduated from Sergeant's school. He was headed for San Francisco to celebrate with his girlfriend. It was later determined that most likely he took his eyes off the wheel for a moment - and strayed into the path of a tractor trailer truck. The ripples from his death are still felt today, especially on this day, what would have been his 44th birthday. He never had a chance to marry, have children, watch his neices grow up or even meet his brother Danny's children. His parents are both gone as well, after struggling for years to carry the burden of the death of their youngest son. One of the 12 priests that stood attendance at his funeral said, "For Kevin, life was always a bowl of cherries." That was a very true observation. I spent some of the best times of my life trading barbs and jokes with him at my in-laws kitchen table during Sunday dinner. It was a family tradition, and a way of life, that ended with his death. If you can still genuinely question why I would print a story about a kid driving drunk, doing drugs, or otherwise doing something that could literally throw their life, and the lives of their family away in a second, may God bless you as you sit down to share a meal with the people you love most. Happy birthday Kevin.

http://www.newbritainherald.com/articles/2010/01/25/news/doc4b5e5cbdda20c339598301.txt

Did they do enough?

As promised, an update on the John Kalisz killings in Florida. Did police and prosecutors do enough to prevent a tragedy?

Two schools of thought: the information gathered in Connecticut should have been shared with the woman prosecuting the case; the other - nothing would have prevented this and he was punished appropriately for the crimes he was charged with. What do you think?

http://www.newbritainherald.com/articles/2010/01/19/news/doc4b56767dc1423360199660.txt

Interview with a killer

Okay I admit it, the heading is misleading. I didn't interview a killer, but Farmington and Plainville police did. It's unclear whether Florida authorities knew the depth of John Kalisz's recent history in Connecticut when they sentenced him to probation in October. I'll find out more today.

http://www.newbritainherald.com/articles/2010/01/18/news/doc4b551d7576b3e948257893.txt

Photo follies

Aha!

It just took me two days to figure out how to post photos (see previous post about wrench tossing . . .) but I did it.

Here's the story to go with the mug.

http://www.newbritainherald.com/articles/2009/12/01/news/doc4b15dd0b5b34a094445717.txt

If I pull this off I'll be impressed

Is this going to work? You're literally watching a work in progress, or more accurately a dork in progress. I wasn't kidding when I said I have no clue what I'm doing. And I tend to be . . . stubborn . . . so asking for help is . . . not an option. Until of course, I'm so frustrated, I throw a wrench (oh wait, I'm not fixing the lawnmower, am I?). Well here goes: Today's most read story. Leave a comment here or there, doesn't matter. But don't be crass. I'm in control, remember?

http://www.newbritainherald.com/articles/2010/01/13/news/doc4b4e893531b14375441337.txt

Here we go . . .

Allow me to say this upfront. I have no clue what I'm doing. I have an amazing job. At times it's annoying, joyful, informative, eye-opening, eye-popping, frustrating and awe-inspiring - and all that can happen in the span of a few hours. I am a crime reporter for The New Britain Herald. I write about all manner of pestulance, brutality, and humanity on a daily basis, mostly without batting an eyelash, while wearing high heels.

Here's what I hope to accomplish: to change the world. Yup. I wish I could have thought of something a little more focused, but what do you expect from a woman who covered a chick brawl outside a courthouse, a long-standing fued over a garbage truck and one of the most highly regarded digital investigators in the country all in one afternoon - today. Here are my adventures. As my brother so artfully placed on his as yet (thankfully) empty gravestone, "Life's a journey, enjoy the ride."