I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
January 31, 2009
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After the anchor who was supposed to train me stormed out of the newsroom, I looked up at the clock. I was all alone in the newsroom, I had two hours until my first five-minute newscast, and I had no earthly idea of how I was supposed to get it on the air.
I took a couple of deep breaths. I couldn’t let myself panic; I didn’t have time. Instead, I sat down at a computer, pulled up the AP newswire, and started pulling stories from it. I had seen the morning newscast a time or two and knew what it was supposed to look like. I was going to have to wing it.
Once I had written enough stories, I pulled the tapes from the previous night’s newscast and began editing video. I finished everything with about five minutes to spare, ran into the bathroom, brushed my hair and applied some new lipstick. I ran to the control room and handed the overnight guy the video, then I ran to the studio, where the director and sound person were blearily setting up for the first cut-in.
“Where’s Jeanine?” the director asked.
“She walked out,” I said. “I’m her replacement.” The director pursed his lips.
“You think you’re going to pull off this newscast all by yourself?”
“Yep,” I said. I handed my script to an intern, who was in charge of operating the machine that put my words up on the camera screen for me to read. Then I sat down at the anchor desk, clipped the microphone to my suit jacket, and put in my sound piece.
“Thirty seconds,” the director grumbled in my ear. I took one more deep breath. If I can pull this off, I said to myself, I can do anything.
The opening music blared and I was on the air. I read my copy without a hitch. The video rolled when it was supposed to. In a few minutes, the whole thing was over. As the red light on top of the studio camera turned off, I burst into laughter. The crew came into the studio, applauding.
“Congratulations,” the director said. “You’re a news anchor.” I grinned back at them for a second, then abruptly stood up and ripped off my microphone.
I had another cut-in in thirty minutes and I had to get ready for it. And if I had thought putting a newscast on the air with no help and no training was hard, I would learn in the coming months that my hard times had only just begun.
To be continued…
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