Salters Helps Rwanda Pay it Forward, One Girl at a Time

In late March, E:60 reporter Lisa Salters boarded a plane in Atlanta, transferred in Brussels and 20 hours later landed in Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. Over the course of the next three days, she would learn many things about the Rwandan people, history and (for better or worse) food. But she was there to teach.

                “A friend of mine is the head communications person for the Nike Foundation, which is sponsoring a project called The Girl Effect,” Salters said. “The project aims to end global (poverty). It does that by equipping young girls through journalism. It tries to teach young girls a skill so that their voices can be heard and they can go work as journalists and pay it forward in their families.

“When I was asked to be a part of this, I said sure. I’ll do anything you need.”

                Salters and two other journalists, ESPN’s Jessica Mendoza and CNN’s Suzanne Malveaux, signed up to teach a class of nine Rwandan students, ranging in age from 14 to 26. The goal was to teach basic principles of journalism, so the students could go on to write for a magazine the Nike Foundation established – think Seventeen magazine for Rwandan girls.

                The students, some of whom spoke a little English, were divided into groups of three; translators were used when necessary. On the first day, they learned about conducting interviews and operating handheld cameras that shoot video (eventually the magazine will have a website on which video will be posted). On the second day they reported from the field, while on the last day they wrote first drafts of stories.

                Salters’ students were assigned to cover a soccer team’s practice on the second day, only this was no ordinary team. It was the only professional men’s team in the country that was coached by a woman – the kind of story you might see on E:60.

                Or so they thought. When Salters and her pupils arrived at practice, they were greeted with a dose of unwelcome news: none of the players, it turned out, were men. Salters used the misinformation to teach a lesson.

“I told the girls, this is what happens in journalism everywhere,” she said. “Information turns out to be untrue. She was, in fact, the coach of a women’s team. So this poor girl, my poor student, her piece was about the female coach of a men’s team. She spent all night coming up with questions. So we had to sit there as practice was going on and come up with a whole new list of questions. Her new piece was just about being a female coach in Rwanda. The coach was still the only female coach in the country.

“The girls were very enthusiastic. When they interviewed that soccer coach – I think I put the fear of God into them. I said look, when you’re out doing a story, you have to become an expert on that story. If we get back and I ask you how old the soccer coach was and you don’t know, I’m not going to be happy.”

Dean Stoyer, Salters’ friend who runs the Nike Foundation office in Rwanda, viewed Salters as a natural teacher. “Lisa's calm encouragement and unwavering support made the girls instantly comfortable,” he said in an email from Kigali. “Lisa truly stepped into the mentoring role, gracefully guiding her students through Socratic questions, allowing the students to discover the information for themselves. Her girls owned it. And it was powerful to watch.”

The days were long, starting at 7 a.m. and finishing after 5 p.m. But Salters, Mendoza and Malveaux still had time to explore Kigali. One day they went to the Reconciliation Village, where the Hutu and Tutsi peoples live side by side. It’s an image that not too long ago seemed impossible. In the spring of 1994, Rwanda garnered international headlines as the Hutus slaughtered an estimated 800,000 Tutsis in approximately 100 days.

Salters knows all about the ethnic cleansing that took place in Rwanda. She reported from Kigali in the fall of 1994 for WBAL-TV in Baltimore, where she was a reporter before joining ESPN in 2000.

“But I didn’t really get a sense of how big the scope of the massacre was until now,” Salters said. “I had always thought of it as a civil war. But there wasn’t a war here. It was slaughter, there was no fighting back. But I see now that the Rwandans have tried to move past it.”

At the Reconciliation Village, locals danced for Salters, Mendoza and Malveaux and served up a Rwandan delicacy: grilled goat on a stick.

“I was like, please God do not make me eat this,” Salters said, laughing. “And they bring out these full plates. All these villagers are looking at you and are so happy to serve you. I’m like, ugh, I don’t want this goat. But I took a bite and it wasn’t just goat, it was goat kidney. And so it was the nastiest thing ever and I knew I couldn’t spit it out. I just had that one bite.”

                There were other hardships along the way. The first of the two hotels at which Salters, Mendoza and Malveaux stayed was infested with moths.  But Salters simply rolled with the punches. After all, she has seen much worse. Two years ago, Salters reported from Haiti for an E:60 story about the Haitian under-17 girls’ soccer team. At the time, the country had been rocked by a devastating earthquake.

                “Haiti, that’s kind of what Rwanda reminded me of,” Salters said. “But I got to say, Haiti was much worse. It really kind of put it in perspective, how bad Haiti was. As bad as that hotel in Rwanda was, I was telling people, this is like the Taj Mahal compared to where we stayed Haiti.”

                Salters said she planned on staying in touch with her Rwandan students , all of whom have Facebook accounts. And she hopes to return to Rwanda in six months or a year to continue her role as a teacher.

“It was a quick trip but really cool,” she said. “We were literally teaching these girls how to find their voice. Girls who didn’t have a voice before now feel like they do. Really rewarding.”

-Submitted by David Picker

Art of the Tease

          It’s not as sexy as it sounds.  We’re talking about the first minute of a show that introduces content and hooks viewers.

          Production Assistant Toby Hershkowitz, who works on E:60 teases, describes the creative process as “delicate and difficult”.

          “You want to highlight some exciting part of the story, but you want to leave meat on the bone so when they watch the story it will be new and exciting,” said Hershkowitz.

          Producers risk losing viewers if the tease gives away too much.  And they risk losing viewers if it doesn’t offer enough.

          Typically, the tease promotes three long-form stories and a short “interstitial”.  The E:60 tease, voiced by an unseen narrator, tends to be conversational and familiar.  The language is energized, provocative and begs a question: what happened?  Or: who is that?

          A show in July 2011 featured three long pieces: a profile of Ozzie Guillen, then manager of the White Sox; a story on former middleweight champion Kelly Pavlik’s bout with alcohol; and a story on a 17-year-old girl who lost part of her left leg in a boating accident and recovered to play high school soccer.  It also offered a five-minute piece on a triathlete who wrestles alligators, and a short on Albert Pujols’ visit to a bat factory.

          The tease started with Guillen.  The key tracks were “a manager with no filter between his mind and his mouth”, and “Ozzie Guillen is the best interview in sports”.   There was sound from Ozzie - “We played like bleep” - film of the White Sox celebrating a championship, reporter Jeremy Schaap handing Guillen a beer, and a specialty shot of Guillen’s head highlighted by thought balloons, among them “under the bus”, “family”, and “honesty”.

          “There are times when someone is so big that just having them is enough to sell the story - that was the case with Ozzie,” Hershkowitz said. “We said he was the best interview in sports - we thought people would tune in just to hear what he had to say.

          “That said, the thought balloons indicated we had something people haven’t seen before - a trip inside his mind.”

          Next came Pavlik.   The first track,  “Once the middleweight champion of the world, the hope of a struggling town.”  - was over film of Pavlik in the ring and of deserted factories in Pavlik’s hometown.  Then another shot of Pavlik in the ring, and SOT from a ring announcer, “He’s from Youngstown, Ohio.”   The second track was, “Now Kelly Pavlik faces the fight of his life”, over a specialty shots of Pavlik in the ring and up close.  Then a SOT: “In a 12-month period he had more interventions than fights.”

          Hershkowitz explained it:

          “The line about him facing the fight of his life is the undetermined conclusion.  The hook is ‘I wonder if he makes it, beats the addiction, and finds success again as a boxer?  I don’t feel I have the whole story.  I know it’s about addiction, but I don’t know the outcome’.

          “It’s less effective if we say Pavlik defeats his demons and comes back to glory.  A tease is ineffective if the viewer knows exactly what the story is going to be.”

           The tease moved on to Lexi Youngberg, the high school soccer player, introducing her as she ran on to the pitch, with the SOT, “Number Four, Lexi Youngberg.”   Tracked over film of her playing soccer is  “A vibrant athletic 17-year-old”,  and as the film cuts to a boat speeding over water, the track intones  “a deadly accident, and a life forever changed”.  Cut to an interviewee, who says, “I really thought she was going to die”, followed by a track, “the soccer comeback story of the year” over film of her team in a huddle.

          The key phrase was “a life forever changed” because while the tease tees up a boating accident, it does not disclose that Youngberg lost part of her left leg, and now plays soccer with a prosthesis.  Those facts are held back for the story.

          “It’s effective if you give a sense of the story but withhold a pivotal turning point or a twist,” said Hershkowitz.

          The tease concluded with a track on the alligator wrestler, “extreme sport, extreme danger, poisonous snakes, deadly alligators and a death-defying triathlete”, over film of Paul Bedard running, swimming, and messing with snakes and alligators.  The last track, “the best stories in sports tonight on E:60” is over film of Pujols swinging the bat, and an up-close specialty shot of the slugger.

        

          The Poynter Institute offers 12 tips for producing a tease.

Posted by Steve Marantz on March 30, 2012

Saving 9-1-1

          Demi Moore’s divorce from Ashton Kutcher seemed a long way from ESPN and E:60 until a 9-1-1 emergency call was placed from her Beverly Hills home in January.  A female caller revealed that the actress had been smoking something, and was “convulsing”, “semi-conscious”, and “burning up”. 

          Moore was rushed to a hospital.  A few days later the 9-1-1 call was aired by broadcast media.  Subsequently, broadcast media came under attack by Dr. Travis Stork, who appears on “The Doctors”, a syndicated show in New York.  “We’re gonna take a stand here on our show and say that, unequivocally, we do not feel as physicians that 9-1-1 calls should be sent out to be broadcast,” said Dr. Stork.

          He argued that 9-1-1 calls should be excluded from public record under patient-physician confidentiality, and vowed to “take it up with Congress”.

          E:60 producers have an eye on this.  They have used audio from 9-1-1 to powerful effect, perhaps most memorably in Ben Houser’s 2010 story of a Florida teen, Nate Winters, who lost most of his left leg in a 2008 boat accident.  The 9-1-1 call, placed by a friend of Winters from the boat, was used over video of the lake, and was cut between interviews with Winters and his brother as they reconstructed the scene.

          9-1-1:  “Fire Rescue”.

          Friend: “We need an ambulance.  His foot got hit in the boat propeller and it got ripped off.”

          9-1-1: “Is it amputated?”

          Friend: “It’s everywhere.”

          9-1-1: “Do you have something to control the bleeding?”

          Friend: “All right, we’re going to try.”

          Another 9-1-1 tape used to memorable effect was in “Sacred Acre”, the 2010 story of Ed Thomas, a Iowa high school football coach who was shot and killed by one of his former players.

          Dispatcher: “County 9-1-1.”

          Darryl Myers: “We had a shooting right now in the bus barn down at the high school.”

          Dispatcher: “At the high school, where?”

          Darryl Myers: “In the bus barn.”

          Dispatcher:  “In the bus barn, do you know who it was?”

          Darryl Myers: “No I don’t.  Uh, kids just come running out and said somebody shot Ed Thomas.”

          Dispatcher: “Ed Tho (gasp). Okay.”

          In neither story did the 9-1-1 tapes have news value - their value was in narrative and clarity.

          But sometimes a 9-1-1 tape does have news value, as was the case in the 2009 hospitalization of then-University of Florida football coach Urban Meyer.  University officials initially said Meyer’s December 6 hospitalization was due to “dehydration” and that he had been driven there by a friend.  But when ESPN obtained the 9-1-1 call placed by his wife it revealed that he was rushed to the hospital by ambulance after complaining of chest pains and a tingling sensation on his side.  The 9-1-1 shed light on Meyer’s health (which led to his resignation), but more importantly, it caught the university in a lie.

          The potential news value of 9-1-1 calls is just one reason media want them.  Another is that they make transparent an emergency system that, all agree, needs to function at a high level.

          The Radio Television Digital News Association, in its 9-1-1 guidelines, emphasizes the media’s watchdog role. 

          Nonetheless, at the state level, the trend in recent years has been toward the restrictions advocated by Dr. Stork.  More state legislatures are passing laws exempting 9-1-1 records - audio mostly - from public records laws due to privacy concerns and exploitation, according to Paula Lavigne, a member of ESPN’s Enterprise Reporting Unit. 

          “Blame TMZ and celebrity shows for that, because they don’t have much discretion in what they air,” says Lavigne. “Sure, in cases where the records are clearly public you have every right to air them in their entirety.  But you need to look at the big picture in terms of any blowback from that.  As long as you can justify a good reason for airing the audio - aside from just having a broadcast element - I think you’re on solid footing.”

          E:60 tries to use 9-1-1 tapes with discretion, said executive producer Andy Tennant.   The calls are evaluated much as crime scene photos, with caution toward graphic and exploitive content.

          “I understand why there is a movement to ban 9-1-1 calls from public records - many people feel airing those calls is a violation of privacy,” said Tennant. “We in the media need to do a better job of using those calls only in situations where they have news value or can help explain a story.  If they are used for the sake of melodrama or voyeurism, that’s when the media crosses the line.”

          E:60 producers have been rejected or ignored on several 9-1-1 requests. Dave Picker struck out on his stories about Dwayne Goodrich and Marvin Harrison.  Vin Cannamela came up empty on his story about Lexi Youngberg, a teenager who lost her leg in a boating accident in Michigan.

          SportsCenter producer Chris Bloxom asked Lavigne for help after he made an abortive effort to obtain the 9-1-1 call in December 2010 that preceded the death of La Roche College basketball coach Scott Lang, 41, who succumbed to a heart attack during a practice.

          Her advice to Bloxom:

          “Although 911 calls are public record in most states, Pennsylvania is a bit of an exception. The law states that, “The Act exempts 911 tapes but permits access to them or a transcript thereof ‘if the agency or court determines that the public interest in disclosure outweighs the interest in nondisclosure.’ Section 708(b)(18).

          “The only upside here is that the agency has some discretion in releasing it to you. What you need to do first is find out which agency has that tape, unless you’ve done that already. You want the 911 dispatch center, which could be the city police department or some sort of city-county agency. You need to make the request to that agency. It would help if you could make a good argument as to why this 911 call is in the public interest. If that fails, then I’m afraid you will need a court order, which would involve making a request to a judge in that county. And you’ll likely need an attorney’s help with that.

          “One other angle you might try is to see if the family could help you. It’s possible that a relative could get the agency to hand over the tapes without a lot of hassle. I’m not sure what your relationship is with them, but if it’s good, you might go that route.”

          Bloxom filed requests through Pittsburgh police and the emergency response agency and was turned down.  He decided against hiring an attorney to seek a court order, and let the matter drop.

          To all producers and reporters Lavigne offers this advice:

          “When you make a request, you really HAVE to have an address...the calls are saved/logged by address and phone numbers. (And who knows what phone someone was using when he/she called.) They’re not usually logged by name...trust me on that. You should also have a date and an approximate time.

          “And make sure you use a public records request letter to ask for them. That’s usually helpful.

          “Finally, 911 agencies are organized in all sorts of different ways. In some places, the 911 dispatchers are part of the fire department or police department. In other places, the 911 dispatchers belong to their own separate agencies. And there can be multiple 911 agencies within a region. So, just make sure you have the right agency before you launch into a request.”

(posted by Steve Marantz on March 2, 2012)

Graphic Content: Part 2 Journalism and Voyeurism

      In April 2007 Michael Vick’s dogfighting ring dominated the news. Outside the Lines and SportsCenter showed video of dogs in violent combat, and were stung by viewer backlash.

      One viewer wrote: “I'll be honest: I turned that story off when they started showing the tapes of the dog fights...that was one of the few times where I completely and totally disagreed with an ESPN decision. Dogfighting is awful, we know it's awful, you don't need to show the tapes.”
      Those were the words of ESPN columnist Bill Simmons, in an online chat. Simmons laid bare the risk of graphic content. If he turned the channel, anybody might.
      But that’s only half of the risk - viewers also turn away from indifference. Graphic content can hold or build an audience, in its appeal to the intellect, through effective journalism, and to the gut, through voyeurism.
      In its decisions, ESPN must consider its own brand, as well as that of its parent company, Disney, says producer Ben Houser.
      Yet, if ESPN uses graphic content for journalism, and another network uses it to exploit voyeurism, a cynical public might not make a distinction, or care.
      This two-edged sword that is graphic content asks two subjective questions of producers: 1) is it too graphic? 2) is it necessary?
      When Outside the Lines pushed to use the moment of contact - baseball against skull - in the Gunnar Sandberg story, Sandberg’s parents refused. The two diametrically opposed views reflect the nuance of the issue.
       “Well, their motive was to protect the privacy of their child and their family,” said coordinating producer Tim Hays. “Our judgment is based on two completely different criteria; what's appropriate and what represents the best interest of our viewers. We have to make a call that balances those two factors. We wouldn't use a piece of video that is particularly gruesome or gratuitous, even if the viewer would like to see it. However, if we feel like it's an important part of the story, we have to consider it.”
       Said Dwayne Bray, head of the Enterprise Reporting Unit: “We never want to be gratuitous. We use what we need to tell the story, and nothing more. If the storytelling is strong enough, we believe, then you don't need to exploit graphic or violent video images to enhance viewer engagement.”
       How graphic is too graphic? Where is the line between necessary and gratuitous? The Radio Television Digital News Association counsels “particular compassion to victims of crime or tragedy” and offers up even more questions to help news organizations decide.
       Lots of questions, no easy answers.
       Producers say they weigh criteria on a story-by-story basis, but it also appears to be the case that it is weighed on a show-by-show basis.
       The story about alleged pedophile Bobby Dodd, former head of the A.A.U, and his accuser, Ralph West, ran in December on Outside the Lines, while an abbreviated version ran on SportsCenter.
      “SportsCenter decided - after some discussion - to bleep out the word ‘masturbate’,” said producer Carolyn Hong. “Outside the Lines did not bleep it out of our long piece...I understand that some of the staff were complaining that their kids would see the broadcast.”
       Viewers were given a warning about the language in the lead-in to the story, Hong said. One broad area of agreement is that viewers should be warned if there is any doubt about the material.
       Producer Martin Khodabakhshian recalled an HBO story about black market horse slaughter that did not warn viewers.
       “They showed horsed being sliced through - it felt like the Silence of the Lambs,” said Khodabakhshian. “I felt offended that they didn’t warn us this was coming.”
       Beyond that, producers apply their own rules of thumb.
       Jose Morales, in his piece on motocross riders, used crashes in which the injuries were not permanent, though he would not use the fatal crash of Jeremy Lusk, nor would he have used the moment of impact - if he had obtained it - that paralyzed Stephen Murray.
       “I think it’s fair to say that the degree of injury has an influence on my decision,” said Morales.
       On the other hand, producer Yaron Deskalo said that, in his 2010 piece on the playing fields of Bhopal, India, he did not hesitate to use rows of dead bodies from the 1984 pesticide factory disaster “because there was not a lot of blood, which is the danger.”
       E:60 executive producer Andy Tennant advises special caution “on stories involving dogs, horses and children.”
      The time slot of a show is a factor, producers said. A weekend show in the morning or afternoon could have a larger viewership of children. Parental caution should be advised early and often for questionable material.
      E:60 coordinating producer Michael Baltierra suggests more restraint with domestic stories than with international, because the emotional impact is greater if the image is closer to home.
     “You probably wouldn’t show a severed head in Cleveland,” he said.
      To that point, graphic content is defined by community and cultural standards, which vary from region to region, country to country, and are in constant flux. But as technology evolves, and citizen journalists feed You Tube and social media, community and cultural standards change. Today’s graphic content may be tomorrow’s elevator music.
     Which explains why, in the future, Yaron Deskalo’s decision not to air a flapping skull in Bahrain will be even more difficult.
     “The definition of what a journalist is has changed,” Deskalo said. “Those of us trying to tell a balanced story have to be more aware of what is being shown across the full spectrum.”

Posted by Steve Marantz on January 19, 2012

Graphic Content: Part 1, Deskalo’s Dilemma

          Arab Spring brought revolution to the Middle East and, inevitably, graphic content to media.   In producing a story for E:60 about political repression in Bahrain, Yaron Deskalo found ample video of carnage, much of it shot by non-media with personal devices.

          Deskalo’s task was to tell the story with proper context, texture, and tone - to use graphic content and not be used by it.  Into his Sorcerer’s Brew went video of a bloodied man on a gurney, a bloodied protestor on a street, shootings of two protestors on the streets, and a man with a bloodied head on an operating table.  Then a snippet gave him pause.

          “Someone’s head was literally blown up,” recalled Deskalo.  “A grenade had opened up his skull and it was in fragments - the guy was being carried and his head was flapping.”

          The shot had come from a private flip-cam inside a Bahraini hospital. On the one hand it conveyed the brutality of the conflict.  On the other it was repulsive enough that viewers might click away. 

          The tightrope was familiar to Deskalo.  In May 2010 he produced an E:60 piece about Liberians who lost a limb in that country’s civil war more than 20 years ago and who found comfort in playing soccer.   That piece, “Survival 1”, featured a severed head on a table and a decapitated body on a street, as well as a maggot-infested skeleton, and tape of a man being clubbed.  Those images were appropriate, Deskalo had decided, because the story was about amputees - the graphic content spoke to the theme of the story. 

          But this call wasn’t as clear.  The Bahrain story was about political repression; the injuries were peripheral.

          Deskalo’s dilemma, as defined by the Radio Television Digital News Association, is that, “the visual images always overpower the spoken word. Powerful pictures can help explain stories better or they can distort the truth by blurring the important context of the report.”

          Explain or distort, either or both, take your pick.  ESPN producers routinely wrestle with graphic content.

          In June 2010 Outside the Lines produced a show about the dangers of metal bats.  Gunnar Sandberg was a high school pitcher in California who nearly died after being hit in the head by a line drive off a metal bat.  His parents had the only video of the incident, and they gave it to OTL with the stipulation that the moment of contact - when the ball hit Sandberg’s head - not be shown.   But that was what OTL wanted to show.

          “We tried to convince them otherwise, because seeing it would make for a more complete telling of the story,” said coordinating producer Tim Hays.

          Sandberg’s parents held firm and the moment of contact was not aired.

          OTL pushed last summer in its reporting on Shannon Stone, the fan who fell over a center field railing, to his death, at Arlington Stadium trying to catch a ball tossed by outfielder Josh Hamilton.  In an interview with a man who sat next to Stone, and tried to grab him, OTL ran tape of the fall not once, but twice. 

          “The video clearly showed the man trying to grab Mr. Stone, and since it was such an important part of the story we used the video a second time so that the viewer could see what the man was describing,” said Hays.

          OTL producers knew the second showing could draw criticism.

          “Others might have seen it as gratuitous, but in our judgment it wasn’t,” Hays said.

          As often as producers push for graphic content, they pull back.

          In a 2009 story on the dangers of freestyle motocross, producer Jose Morales declined to use the crash that killed rider Jeremy Lusk.

          “After securing video of the crash and watching it, it was clear to me that I wouldn’t use it,” Morales said. “It was just too violent.  Jeremy’s body literally snapped in half.  It was gruesome.”

          The story, which ran on OTL and SportsCenter, covered Lusk’s death with a SportsCenter announcement, and a sound bite from Lusk after he won a gold medal at the X Games.

          Earlier in the piece, Morales showed rider Stephen Murray at the start of a stunt that would end with him paralyzed from the neck down.   Morales did not have tape of the moment at which Murray snapped his neck.  Even if he had, he says he would not have used it. 

          Instead, Morales dipped to black, carried the announcer’s call, and showed the reaction of other riders.

          More restraint? OTL reported the story of Bobby Dodd, the former head of the A.A.U. alleged to be a pedophile, and interviewed Ralph West, who claims to have been molested by Dodd.   The interview was well along when West, visibly shaken, arose and walked toward the back of the room.  Producer Carolyn Hong’s cameras stayed on West as he puked.  He still was mic'd, and she picked up the sound.

          The question was not whether to air the moment - because it conveyed West’s distress and made his story more believable  - but when.

          “We had a number of discussions amongst us, with some people believing that the moment should play up high in our piece,” Hong said.

          There also was a thought to amplify the sound of West puking.  But in the final cut, the moment was aired when it occurred, near the end of the interview, and the sound was not amplified.

          Sometimes a compromise is struck.

          Producer Ben Houser had graphic photos of the mangled left leg of Nate Winters, a Florida boy who was in a 2008 boating accident and came back to become a high school pitcher.  The photos came from Winters’ parents, both doctors, with permission to use them.

          “The photos were not easy to look at and I don’t have a weak stomach,” said Houser.  “But in the context of the story we determined that you had to see what he went through relative to his coming back and pitching.”

          Houser’s final cut for E:60 found a middle ground.

          “We blurred the photos - they’re not 100 percent crisp high def in focus,” he said.  “You can make out that the leg was severed, but we took the edge off.”

          In the case of the flapping skull, Deskalo put it into a rough cut and showed it to E:60 colleagues. 

          Producer Martin Khodabakhshian took one look and said, “It’s too gross.  You’re going to lose people.”

          Nobody disagreed and Deskalo removed it from the final cut.

          “At the end of the day we just decided we had so many great images that we didn’t want to distract the viewers,” Deskalo said.

          Part 2 will explore guidelines and best practices for graphic content.       

Posted by Steve Marantz on January 17, 2012

Ashley Owens Quinter 1987-2011

          As the new year begins we remember Ashley Owens Quinter, who received the lungs of Paco Rodriguez, and breathed through them - with gratitude and exuberance - before she passed away on December 8, at age 24.

          Rodriguez was the boxer who died in November 2009, from injuries in the ring, so that others might live, through his organ donations.   Ashley lived a bit more than two years with Rodriguez’ lungs.

          Vin Cannamela, who co-produced the piece on Rodriguez last spring, attended the memorial service for Ashley, in Birdsboro, Pa., on Dec. 18.

          The chaplain who presided over her wedding last summer, to high school beau Jesse Quinter, recalled that joyous event:

          “At one point she turned to Jesse and said, ‘If I died today I would be happy’.”

          Three other recipients of Paco’s organs attended - Alexis Sloan (heart), Meghan Kingsley (liver) and Victoria Davis (kidney, pancreas).   The four women had formed a “sisterhood” after they traveled to Chicago last spring, at E:60’s behest, to meet Paco’s family.

          Victoria’s husband, Stuart, spoke on behalf of the recipients, and talked about Ashley’s kindness.

          “It is said that every time a bell rings an angel gets her wings, well, Ashley was an angel on earth,” he said.

          Attendees received a Mass card, with a photo of Ashley and four hearts, which said, “I think you should never waste a second of your life.”

          After the service Cannamela reflected on Ashley and the story he co-produced.

          “I was struck by everything she did in two years - finish her degree, graduate with honors, start a teaching career, get married, travel,” he said.

          Asked about his own emotions at the service, Cannamela paused - for several seconds.

          Finally, he said, “I guess I was just honored to be there - to be able to pay tribute to her and who she was and how she lived her life and touched people.”

          He attended, he said, because, “As journalists we sometimes ask a lot of people in doing these types of stories. I don’t know if ‘obligate’ is the right word, but I felt it was the right thing to do.  I wanted to see the other recipients and be there for them. In a real way we were the reason they got to know each other.  For us to see the bond they created amongst themselves - that’s rewarding.”

Posted by Steve Marantz Jan 3, 2012

         

Shooting Bahrain

         

          Before the Arab Spring, Yaron Deskalo had produced E:60 stories from India, Liberia, Serbia, England, Spain, Venezuela, Brazil, Mexico and the Dominican Republic.   Not bad for a guy from Milwaukee.

          And then Bahrain erupted in six weeks of protests, which left 24 dead and 400 missing.   Its Sunni royal family imprisoned and tortured elite soccer players, as well as workers at the Formula One racetrack, many of them Shias, who dared to protest.  Bahrain is a mere speck of a country on the western shore of the Persian Gulf, but not too small to escape Deskalo’s passport.

          Shooting in a foreign country, particularly one in upheaval, requires a detailed plan.

          “I might have 12 things on a list, but I have a sense of four things we really want, and I prioritize,” said Deskalo.

          Nothing gets done without a “fixer” - someone who lives there and can act as a guide, intermediary, translator and reporter.   Deskalo hired Lubna Takruri, a U-Cal Berkeley Masters of Journalism graduate (2006), who had reported from the Middle East for CNBC and Irish Radio.  While Deskalo, reporter Jeremy Schaap and shooters Bill Roach, Joel Edwards and Jessie Edwards applied for media visas, Takruri reached out to potential interview subjects.

          “In a foreign country if you don’t speak the language you’re only as good as your fixer,” said Deskalo.  “At the end of the day if you can’t communicate your vision to the fixer she can’t communicate to the government and you will have a hard time getting what you need.”

          A tight budget limited the shoot to 5 ½ days.  First came Oman, another Persian Gulf country slightly larger than Bahrain.  Two of Bahrain’s top soccer players, the brothers Alaa and Mohammad Hubail, had been banished to Oman.   Late in September, after 20 hours of travel, Deskalo’s crew arrived in Oman.  At Customs he was told he did not have the proper papers for ESPN’s gear.

          “We were screwed,” Deskalo recalled. “It was Wednesday night and Thursday and Friday is the weekend in Oman.  My fear was that our gear would be in the airport for two days.”

          In the morning Deskalo appealed to a press officer at Oman’s ministry of information, and his gear was cleared, but half a day was wasted.  Still, he got what he needed, in a day and a half.

          Next came 3 ½ days in Bahrain, which could be difficult, he worried, if government officials suspected a critical story. Officials were told the story would show “how the uprising affected sports in Bahrain, and how the country was moving forward”, Deskalo said.  They were told athletes who were in the protests - and subsequently tortured - would be interviewed.

          But at the time Bahrain was alone among Arab Spring countries to retain the backing of the Obama administration.   This likely worked in Deskalo’s favor.

          “I didn’t’ get the sense that they were concerned about a sports network,” said Deskalo.          “There was no video of torture, and no wounds remained on the athletes.  There was a level of arrogance from the royal family in terms of acknowledging the situation.”

          On the first day he interviewed a soccer official whose comments were too guarded, so Takruri lined up alternative interviews.  On the second day, driving to the U.S. Naval base, Deskalo thought a helicopter was shadowing his vehicle, but nothing came of it.  Coincidentally, the government handed down prison sentences to several doctors who had protested.  Takruri knew the attorney of one of the doctors, and secured an interview.

          “You have to adjust on the fly - you only get one opportunity because you’re not flying back to Bahrain soon,” Deskalo said.

          Overall the E:60 crew shot 13 interviews and ample scenery and color.  On the last morning, before his flight out,  Deskalo still needed an interview with a Formula One official but his request had been ignored.  Finally, he took his crew to the lobby of the Formula One office.  A flak told him the official was unavailable.

          “We can’t go back without him,” Deskalo insisted.

          The flak went into a back room and then returned.

          “You can have 10 minutes in his office,” he said.

          Schaap interviewed the official, also a member of the royal family, who pleaded ignorance to the plight of 27 of his former employees who claimed to have been tortured while in jail.  The man in flowing white garb did his best Sgt. Schultz “I know nothing” impersonation, but his furtive eyes spoke otherwise.

          “A good moment,” said Deskalo.

Posted by Steve Marantz on November 22, 2011