The one thing I was absolutely terrified of facing as a new reporter was the possibility of being on scene for any police or ambulance activity. But I figured, small town, that probably won’t happen.
However, I didn’t figure that, small town, I might be the one making the 911 call.
When I first got this position, I was expecting that all I would have to do was contact the RCMP to receive the weekly police reports and write professional stories about them from a distance.
Like, so far at a distance, that if the apocalypse was the equivalent to police activity, I could camp out in my apocalyptic-proof bunker as I radio communicated with my sources to receive information. Separated, serene, and safe from my sanguine mind actually having to face what is happening in the world.
When I got home after the incident on Sept. 30, I was pretty much so high on adrenaline that I sputtered out to my mom and sister how exciting the whole event was like a VHS movie on fast forward.
Clearly I needed to be sedated.
In all my working years at Houston, since the good ol’ days at A&W when I was but a tween of 14 years, I’ve learnt one valuable lesson: the quickest way to get over your fears, is to find yourself in situations where you’re forced to act on them.
Are you naturally an introvert, now working as a cashier serving burgers? Well, hun, you better start learning how to say, “Hello! Can I take your order?”
Are you someone who avoids looking like a fool, so instead of asking for clearer directions when someone tells you to WD-40 the Tarzan rope, you go and do exactly just that. You spray WD-40 directly onto the Tarzan rope. Well darling, prepare to be a fool in stride.
Are you someone that doesn’t like to ask a lot of questions because you’re afraid that you might be invading someone else’s privacy? Well guess what babe, you’re a reporter now. Your job is to do exactly that.
I can’t say that I am looking forward to the next time I may have to report on scene at a police or ambulance incident, but I will say this: I’m a bit more delusionally confident in what I do for work.