It started out as the average Rutland trip. Return a video game, exchange some pants, pretty standard stuff. It was after I left Dick’s that it turned into something much more interesting. As I sat in my car, staring at the glass doors that lead into Dick’s I saw something far too familiar to me: police lights.I gasped.
I’ve always had a natural curiosity for things like fires, and car accidents. Ever since I was little, I’ve wanted to know everything about them: who, what, when where, how, and why. Now that I’m a journalism student, I had an excuse. I took out my camera and started taking pictures.
I was nervous. In fact, I half expected someone to come running up to me and tell me to stop. After I was done taking pictures I was going to leave, but something inside me told me not to.
It was my natural curiosity, and everything I’ve ever learned about journalism.
I couldn’t just leave. Not with such a good opportunity staring me in the face.
I walked up to the first available firefighter and asked him what happened. He explained to me that he arrived late to the scene, and that he had no idea how it started.
I then asked a factory worker, and he told me he knew nothing either.
Things were looking bleak. Every person I approached I feared wouldn’t take me seriously. After all, who am I? I’m not anyone important. I am, however, a reporter for the Castleton Spartan, and that’s what I told them.
Finally, I approached the man who I thought would be my best from the very beginning. He was dressed in a white suit rather than that flashy bright yellow one, and the back of his jacket read “assistant chief.”
I was still nervous, but I approached him anyway.
“We think it was a gas leak. They tried to put it out themselves, but it got out of control and they called us,” said Bruce Egan, assistant chief for the Rutland fire rescue squad.
The owner of the vehicle was nowhere on the scene, and no one that was on the scene seemed to know his name, which was unfortunate.
Even though it wasn’t the Rutland trip I expected, I’m so glad for the experience. There’s nothing quite like feeding that natural curiosity that journalists have. It’s really exciting; despite the nerves you can sometimes feel beforehand. It’s a great feeling, knowing that you’ve satisfied your own curiosity, and can now share the knowledge you have with the people, who deserve to know how and why something happened. It’s a feeling of accomplishment, and knowing you did something good. It’s a sense of satisfaction that nothing else in the world can give you. I know journalism is the right career path for me, and this small taste of the real thing only reinforced that truth.