Three Days Covering the Fort Hood Tragedy

I was sitting at my desk Thursday afternoon talking to our reporter who covers Fort Hood when he got a call about a potential mass casualty event on post. He left immediately. Although he was only about 20 minutes away, he ended up only making it to the front gate where most of the other local media was stationed while post was locked down. The national media wouldn't make it to Fort Hood for hours.

The only media to make it on post Thursday was the Killeen newspaper, which is literally a highway exit away from base. I spoke with a reporter who told me somebody from their office either heard what was happening from a police scanner or a phone call. A reporter and photographer left immediately and got onto post before it was locked down. Since that photographer was pretty much the only news photographer on the scene some of his pictures were circulated worldwide.

Within 20 minutes of hearing about the unfolding event, I walked into the office of a local attorney and watched some of the first broadcast reports. I saw the reporter that was in my office walking around in the background of the live shots of television reporters, talking on his cell phone and trying to get any information he could. In between his coverage of the event, he got emails and phone calls from people he knows all over the country. They had seen him on television and wanted him to know they were thinking about him as he worked to cover the tragedy.

Our reporters were immediately assigned areas of responsibility. We had reporters covering post, hospitals, schools and Killeen. I don't know how it happened but I was the odd man out. I wasn't given an area of responsibility. I was just told to find what I could.

I worked the phones, calling contacts I know who might have any shred of information. Early on I lucked out. I spoke with the aide of a U.S. Congressman, a man I did a feature story about last year.

He told me he was on the scene. I could hear sirens in the background. He said he got out of his car to attend a graduation ceremony when a soldier ran past him and said, "sir, somebody is shooting." As the soldier passed, the man said he noticed blood on the back of his uniform. The soldier was one of the wounded. That information was posted on our Web site as part of the first breaking news story we uploaded.

I kept calling people but the information I was gleaning wasn't as interesting. A few small local events were cancelled, cities were ready to help, schools were prepared -- it was all stuff that would be covered by other reporters.

At one point I heard someone say over the police scanner that "Hasan was the shooter. We have him and he is being transported to Scott & White Hospital. Secure his apartment."

I did Internet searches on his name and came up with nothing. I used the Internet to try and find his address and again found nothing. On a whim, I even tried to call a person with the last name Hasan that lived near post. I couldn't break through.

Later that evening, after I had lost hope I was actually going to find a story, my sister-in-law called me. I think she called to see if my wife was at my son's football game. Before I hung up with her, I asked her if her or any of her friends knew somebody on post that I could speak with.

A half hour later I had two names and phone numbers. I spoke briefly with an Army major who referred me to the post public information office. He was polite enough, but really not help at all. We had that covered.

Then I called an Army wife. As they say here in Texas, "bless her heart." She gave me a great interview. While she wasn't at the scene, she lived within a mile of the attack and there were some real moments of terror for women in that neighborhood wondering if other gunmen were on the loose and if their children were safe at school.

I took down her interview but didn't write a story that night. I knew it had potential for better play in the newspaper if I held it and developed it more.

My editor woke me up at 6 a.m. on Friday morning with a phone call. Our Fort Hood reporter had a doctor appointment in the morning and she wanted me to be at Fort Hood for a press conference at 8 a.m. I showered, my wife put the kids I usually bring to school on the bus and I headed out early to Fort Hood.

I arrived early at the main gate. There was an incredible amount of media there. Maybe thirty satellite trucks, I don't even want to estimate on reporters and other support personnel. I briefly parked on the grass, there were no available parking spaces, and walked over to a soldier logging in media. I saw that I was listed as number 186 on a yellow notepad full of names. I then got into a line of cars carrying members of the media and was escorted onto a location on base where even more media were located.

In a field within sight of Darnall Hospital, where many of the injured were treated, the Army made available several soldiers and nurses that were involved in some way with the tragedy the day before. Packs of media went from soldier to soldier, maybe ten in all, and recorded their stories.

I wrote down information given to me by MPs, doctors, nurses, and just regular soldiers, all who played a role in the incident and instinctively jumped into action. I spoke with one of the subjects alone, after he had told his story about 15 different times to different members of the media. I asked him if he volunteered or was ordered to attend the presser. He smirked and said, "I got the call at 4 a.m. this morning." It was the one thing we had in common, both being roused from our sleep to fulfill an assignment.

A more formal press conference with top level officials -- including Gen. George Casey Jr., Army chief of staff, and Defense Secretary John McHugh -- was pushed back and since our reporter was finished with his doctor appointment, I left base.

For the first time since I have been working at the paper, I went to our news bureau in Killeen, where I hammered out a story about what it was like at the Army hospital during the hours after the shooting.

Instead of heading back to my office, I took a few minutes to drive into Killeen to see the apartment complex where the alleged shooter lived. I met up with another one of our reporters, talked casually to a few residents but left after a few minutes. That was not my story. I was there just fulfilling some personal curiosity.

I started to drive back to my office when I realized that the office of a justice of the peace was just blocks away. I spoke with the man on the phone early Thursday. In Texas, the justices are the ones who legally pronounce death and based on my phone calls the day before, I knew that justice would have been the one called out to the scene.

His secretary tried to dissuade me with gruffness. She was rude and everything about her mannerisms said, "go away." I didn't. I had worked with her before. In minutes, I was in the official's office hearing his account of the crime scene. Much of what he told me formed the basis of a front page story on Saturday that described what the scene of the crime was like. That justice not only pronounced death upon the 13 victims but he also went on two unrelated death calls in Killeen. The next day he married at least three couples from Fort Hood.

On Friday, I wrote my last two stories from home. I was able to contact a second Army wife. She helped round out that story, which my editors held on Saturday but ran on the front page Sunday. The story ended with one of the women saying, “I’ve always felt safe on post, and I still do.”

While I was working on my last story Friday evening, I was invited by my editor to work on Saturday.

I was in charge of a volleyball tournament with church on Saturday. Thankfully, I contacted somebody who is more capable than me and he stepped in and took over the small tournament. I showed up to help get it started, then handed it off to him.

At 11 a.m. I went to a Temple hospital where I waited 45 minutes for the Texas governor to emerge for a press conference. While there I began to notice the international flavor of the assembled reporters. There was a crew from Australia. An Asain woman spoke on her cell phone

in a language I didn't recognize. Other reporters had European accents. Rest assured, there were also plenty of Americans.

After writing a story off the governor's comments, I went back to Fort Hood for a 7 p.m. press conference with the head of CID and a spokesman for Fort Hood. While waiting outside the gate, I had a fascinating conversation with a reporter from the Washington Post who normally covers Mexico. While on post I listened to a reporter from the New York Times whine to an Army official about access and let him know that her editor expected more from her.

I spoke with an NBC correspondent from Florida who shared with local television reporters how he rose in the business. It's all about hard work and being in the right place at the right time, he said.

After the press conference, I wrote my story and drove home.

My overall impression of how Fort Hood handled this incident: very, very well. They have acted with dignity and professionalism. The soldiers working with the media were remarkable. They obviously had a plan in place, and they have executed it over the past several days.

Of course, this story will continue forward. All I know is that after three days of work, I'm proud to be an American, and I can't wait to go to church this afternoon.