It's hard but it gets easier. Sadly, I've covered mass shootings and terror attacks, as well. I truthfully never thought I would have to cover one in my own back yard and now I've covered two.
Two. That number is hard to swallow.
When a terror attack hit Chattanooga I was live on the air. My heart sunk but I went into news mode and told our viewers exactly what we knew and what happened.
That same thing happened on Sunday morning, except I was behind the scenes producing our weekend morning newscasts.
I remember seeing the tweets come in. I remember seeing the Facebook post on Pulse's Facebook page. "Everyone get out of Pulse and keep running." I thought to myself, what in the heck is going on? Why would anyone go on a rampage at Pulse?
Here's some back story. I went to college at the University of Central Florida in Orlando. I have been to Pulse many, many times. Yes, it's a gay club. But, at Pulse and any gay club, you can find straight people just trying to have a good time with some friends. I have some wonderful memories with some great people at Pulse. I can remember dancing and laughing so vividly. I remember smiling and being happy. No one ever turned down a Pulse night. You were guaranteed a good time.
And then there was the morning of June 12th. My twitter feed was flooded with retweets and messages from those in Orlando. The stories, the fear.. I couldn't understand what was happening.
It was getting to be 5am and we found out there were hostages. I still couldn't fathom why anyone would do this. Was this a hate crime? Why Pulse? Why Orlando?
A while later we started to hear the extent of this shooting. The shooter was dead and Orlando police called it a "mass casualty situation."
My heart just broke. I continued to write the news and frantically tried to cover this breaking news story. But, in reality, I wanted to cry. But I had a job to do and this community needed me to do it.
Police couldn't do a press conference.. that indicated to me there was an issue. That was a scary tweet from OPD. This situation was serious. What was happening? Are my friends ok? My brother doesn't live far from here and there was speculation there could be someone on the run (we later found out this wasn't true). Is he ok? Is he in danger? So many thoughts just going through my brain.
Then, we found out this was a terror attack. I was in shock... but I had news to fill and stories to write. I remember frantically writing every little thing I could. I remember seeing this mom on GMA just terrified that her son could be dead. I recognized the last name but didn't know how. How is this happening in a place I lived for 5 years? A place I'm so familiar with. I wanted to cry, my heart broke for this woman. Her son is missing. Who else is missing?
We continued to learn more details about this horrific morning as the day went on. It took about 24 hours before we learned who the victims were. But, we knew the shooter and all the hatred he was capable of. The evil that was inside him to shoot 49 people inside a club. It hurt. Bad.
After my 14 hour day, I drove my 30 minutes home. I drove my 30 minute drive, thankful that everyone I knew was alive and well. But, I still was hurt. My heart broke. The gay community is tight knit in Orlando. Chances are you know someone, who knows someone, etc. Some of the nicest people I've ever met. Some of the best friend I ever made. This could've been them.
But, instead it was 49 innocent people. 49 people who were trying to dance, laugh and have a good time. They were embracing those memories I once shared in that same club 7 or 8 years ago. The stories are tragic. The stories hurt. They may leave you broken.
I understand why so many people think journalists are heartless. We show up on your tv screen and tell you the facts. There's little emotion. But, I can tell you that each one of us had emotion that day. There are tears behind the scenes, there is anger and disbelief. Many stations even provide grief counselors to help us deal with this pain.
Covering tragic events isn't easy. It especially isn't easy when it hits home. When you can relate to every one of the 49 victims that were so brutally murdered.
But then, then came the positive stories. The THOUSANDS of people who showed up just hours later to donate blood. The first responders and their heroism. The surgeons and nurses. The list goes on and it should. The acts of love is what makes Orlando, Orlando. The businesses that donated food, water and time. I was in awe. The story didn't shift, it didn't change. But these stories did make a difference.
We know what happened. We know a terrorist walked into a club and killed 49 people in the name of ISIS.
But, to me, what matters is everything but that. The victims, the heroes. I wish we could put politics aside and remember these victims and honor the heroes.
They deserve that, at least for now. The debate on gun laws will always be there. Let us lay these 49 people to rest and let us mourn.
We need to mourn. We need to grieve. Because we're hurt. But all the love.. the love we've received from around the world, brings us just one step closer to healing. (picture from NBCnews.com)
