It  had been an exhausting day, an early morning run to a crash with fatalities to an afternoon of doing live news cut in at the half hour and then standing at the reel to reel machine, carefully editing “sound bites” on to cartridges. But what happened a half hour before this drive home had left me rattled with conflicting emotions. I had to keep my mind on traffic. I could not allow a phone call to knock me so far off balance. The call had been from an executive with CBS News in New York. It was a brief conversation. They had been impressed with my work. Would I consider flying to New York to talk to CBS management about taking a job in New York.  I am seldom at a loss for words. I had been. “I need to consider this. It is ok if I get back to you tomorrow.?” He told me to take my time.  However he pointed out all of the pre election planning was going on so they needed to fill a position. Why hadn’t I just turned down the offer immediately. I could not move to New York. There was no way I was taking the boys to New York. The adjustment they would have to make, the lack of any support from friends or family. No there was no way. The offer itself rattled me. I felt a sense of shame. It was as though I had been “found out”. Somebody would wake up to the facts. Two years ago I had been a divorced housewife looking for a job with no experience in news. Granted, I had been a news junkie since I was a child. Every day I would listen to newscasters on the radio after the soap operas I loved. Cabriel Heater, Fulton Lew junior and later when my parents bought a TV I was faithful views of John Cameron Swaze’s half hour of news. But that hardly counted. I loved my job, a job that had become a career I had never imagined.  Whether I was covering a trial, a murder, a county commission meeting I was riveted by the events. Since I had branched out into doing investigative reporting I even more intrigued. The reality was I was finding it difficult at times to have the energy and time the boys needed. They were coming home each afternoon to an empty house.  I had to make a six o’clock deadline every day to pick up Brett before the day care closed. I came home night to bake a shrimp strata I had refrigerated the night before. Bread canned shrimp saturated with egg and milk. I had called before I left the station and asked Scott to put it in the oven. When I reached home it was fully baked. I put together a quick salad. I asked the boys about their days in school but I had been distracted. I was thinking about the job offer. My head finally cleared. The result was that the offer was tempting but mostly it was affirming of what I was doing. I had been a stringer for them for only a few months, sending up to them over the phone stories and sound bites of national stories unfolding in Orlando. I had been shocked when they had asked me to do weekly commentaries on Florida Campaign 76. I had spent late nights reading newspapers from all over the state so my commentary was not just about political events in Central Florida. But I had been proud of my work. I didn’t tell the boys about the offer. I didn’t even tell my parents. They might think that I was suggesting that they move to New York to help me with the job. No, it was my secret.

In early October I was busy working on an investigative tip that one of the detectives had given to me at our daily get together at Malcom’s Hungry Bear. I was one of the boys then, just another reporter. The tip involved a large contaminated waste site that a large business had built on,knowing that the law meant they had to clean up the site before building. This job took me to the library to look at old newspaper accounts of micro film. I had to track down people who were involved in the initial building permit. I was doing all of this at the same time I had to keep up with my daily assignments, taking the news van and rushing to cover whatever newsworthy event was taking place. I learned from the law enforcement officers who was part of the entorouge at lunch was that if I had been speeding to cover a story law enforcement would not stop me, unless of course, I was being reckless. It also meant that if a story were breaking and there were no parking places there was some otherwise deginated parking that we could use part time. It was no small matter when being there as events were happening was crucial and looking for a parking place could seem impossible.  I was in that mindset when I received a call  from Bob Jordan the new news director at Channel Nine. Would I be willing to do an audition for the Eyewitness News? I mentioned it to Jim, my news director who laughed. Why would you ever want to leave a station with the highest ratings to go to one with the lowest ratings. When the conversation at lunch turned to TV reporters  there would be scoffing. These were the “air head” reporters more concerned about having their hair look good on camera than reporting the news. In addition, Channel Nine’s rating were in the basement, lower than Channel 35’s which was now running only movies. However, once more it was a challenge and I seldom walked away from challenges. I made an appointment to do a audition on Saturday night. That was the best time for the station. One camera had to be freed up and during the week the cameras were tied up  with usual programming.  The director in charge of audition came out to the set where I was seated. “Relax, he said. We can do this a couple of times if you screw up.” I didn’t intend to screw up but this was definitely going to be a challenge. There was no one from the news department to give me any instructions. The director simply handed me a script from Friday’s 11 o c’lock news. I looked into the camera and read . There was no tele prompter. This meant looking down at the script memorizing several lines, looking into the camera and reading them. The challenge of course was to memorize them correctly,  saying the lines into the camera and then look down and find your place.