It's no secret, I'm not getting any younger. I know, I know, none of us are. But I've just recently come to the reality that it's not as easy to just get out and exercise these old muscles. Of course, it doesn't help that when you go outside to take a short run you might as well go to the gym and put the treadmill in the sauna! A high of 93 here in the Piedmont of North Carolina with heat indices approaching 110 is enough to make you want to go back in the house and soak up some more of that ice cold air conditioning we've all come so fond of.
But I've made a promise to myself and, more importantly, my family. I'm getting back into shape and I'm going to do a Triathlon. Yes, you read that correctly, I'm going to do a triathlon. For some reason I've always wanted to do it. I've never really talked about it that much, but I needed a goal to get my butt off the sofa and make me get out there and train. As a very competitive individual I felt a race would give me something to shoot for. Now, don't get too excited and ready to call me crazy, I'm only doing a short triathlon. I've found a couple in Florida in April that don't sound too bad. One that touts itself as the beginning of the triathlon season in Saint Pete is less than a mile swim, a 24 mile bike ride and a 6 mile run.
So it's out there. Now all two of you reading my blog know I'm entering a triathlon. I guess that's a little added incentive to make it. I'll keep you posted on my training.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Thursday, July 14, 2005
That First Fatal
(WARNING: Some reading the following may become ill. Graphic accident description to follow)
We all go through it. Photojournalists usually remember their first fatality. For me, it was definitely something I'll not forget. I'd been on the job for less than two weeks. A rookie by anyone's definition, but soon to be dubbed grizzled veteran just because of one person's stupidity. Even ten years later, I've never seen a worse accident scene.
I'd been in TV for over a year, working on the production side at WBKO in Bowling Green, Kentucky. Going from teleprompter, studio camera all the way up to director in less than a year, I thought I was prepared for anything. I BS'd my way in to the news department when they needed a photog. "Oh, yea, I've had experience using an ENG camera in school." In reality, I had just started taking my broadcasting courses, never even picked up an ENG camera.
The phone call came as I was getting ready for work. The voice on the other end saying, "there's a bad wreck on I-65 at Cumberland Parkway. We need you to go out and help Julie Pursley (our Barren County one-person-band) so she can get back to the newsroom for the noon show. Just how bad the wreck was, I had no idea.
Upon arrival I noticed more than a few State Police cars, fire trucks and ambulances. The accident had occurred on the ramp from Cumberland Parkway to I-65 southbound. A long curve of a ramp that shouldn't be taken more than about 45 mph. This fool tried to take it at about a hundred! Troopers told me later that the Pontiac Sunbird convertible had struck the guardrail where it begins the upslope and flew in the air some 100 feet before striking a light pole. The pole sent the car, now upside down, back on to the guardrail, decapitating the two passengers and sending the driver out the roof and almost splitting him in half. EMT's said they didn't even know if he was male or female when they arrived on the scene; somehow, he survived.
After I shot what I thought was enough video of the mangled mess of a car and cutaways of the bystanders and emergency workers, I waited at the bottom of the ramp for one of the troopers to give me some sound. After a short while in the summer sun my wish was granted as one of the troopers strolled down the ramp in my direction. I tried my best at some small talk but all he said was, "you're new ain't ya son?" "Uh, been here 'bout two weeks, sir" was all I could muster. "Well, I need ya to do me a favor if you think you can handle it." Eager to please on my first encounter with Trooper Big Gun, I quickly said, "sure, whatever you need."
What he asked me next I wasn't prepared for. "I need you to put a new tape in that machine and shoot some video for us." No problem, they probably just want some scene footage for their files. "You're gonna see some pretty nasty stuff, can you handle that?" Now, I grew up with a father who was a cop for 25 years; Moose used to tell us stories of the things he would see. People shot, car wrecks, bodies that had been in a house for weeks. You name it, he told us about it. So, "sure, I can handle whatever you got," now feeling quite macho in the setting.
As I go under the yellow police tape past the onlookers I'm really feeling my oats now. Until Trooper Gun tells me to watch where I'm about to step, "that's brains." OK, a little perspective here. We're still a good 200 feet from where the car made contact with the light pole and guard rail yet the car is at rest with a LOOOOONNNNGGG trail of blood coming from it. Little did I know that a little brain matter and skull fragments were nothing compared to what I was to see later.
I was asked to tape everything. The amount of blood, the brain matter, skull, the car, now upside down with no roof. And then, they did it. They lifted the sheet off the guy in the bushes. He'd been ripped from the car upon impact and thrown into the brush about 50 feet away. He had no face, just an open, empty skull. Parts of his body had been ripped off or open and I just kept telling myself to "look through the viewfinder, look through the viewfinder." Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, one of them yelled out, "ya gotta come look at this." There, laying in the grass was what looked like a rubber mask. Just a face. Completely peeled off. Now, I'm not real sure what went through my mind at that particular time, but looking back it now I can't believe I didn't ralph. I think it was just so surreal that it really didn't sink in. I do remember looking at it because I just couldn't believe what I was seeing. And to top it off, we thought it belonged to the guy under the bushes but it actually belonged to the girl still in the car some 200 feet away!
I also remember getting the call from the State Police office telling us the driver had been charged about a week later and telling us we could come over to the post and get video of them walking him to a patrol car to be taken to jail. It was the saddest walk I've ever shot. He was using a walker because of his injuries sustained in the crash so it took about 5 minutes for him to walk the short distance to the trooper's car. He was prosecuted for his foolish, drunken act. Although somehow I think killing his two friends is probably more punishment than the time behind bars.
We all go through it. Photojournalists usually remember their first fatality. For me, it was definitely something I'll not forget. I'd been on the job for less than two weeks. A rookie by anyone's definition, but soon to be dubbed grizzled veteran just because of one person's stupidity. Even ten years later, I've never seen a worse accident scene.
I'd been in TV for over a year, working on the production side at WBKO in Bowling Green, Kentucky. Going from teleprompter, studio camera all the way up to director in less than a year, I thought I was prepared for anything. I BS'd my way in to the news department when they needed a photog. "Oh, yea, I've had experience using an ENG camera in school." In reality, I had just started taking my broadcasting courses, never even picked up an ENG camera.
The phone call came as I was getting ready for work. The voice on the other end saying, "there's a bad wreck on I-65 at Cumberland Parkway. We need you to go out and help Julie Pursley (our Barren County one-person-band) so she can get back to the newsroom for the noon show. Just how bad the wreck was, I had no idea.
Upon arrival I noticed more than a few State Police cars, fire trucks and ambulances. The accident had occurred on the ramp from Cumberland Parkway to I-65 southbound. A long curve of a ramp that shouldn't be taken more than about 45 mph. This fool tried to take it at about a hundred! Troopers told me later that the Pontiac Sunbird convertible had struck the guardrail where it begins the upslope and flew in the air some 100 feet before striking a light pole. The pole sent the car, now upside down, back on to the guardrail, decapitating the two passengers and sending the driver out the roof and almost splitting him in half. EMT's said they didn't even know if he was male or female when they arrived on the scene; somehow, he survived.
After I shot what I thought was enough video of the mangled mess of a car and cutaways of the bystanders and emergency workers, I waited at the bottom of the ramp for one of the troopers to give me some sound. After a short while in the summer sun my wish was granted as one of the troopers strolled down the ramp in my direction. I tried my best at some small talk but all he said was, "you're new ain't ya son?" "Uh, been here 'bout two weeks, sir" was all I could muster. "Well, I need ya to do me a favor if you think you can handle it." Eager to please on my first encounter with Trooper Big Gun, I quickly said, "sure, whatever you need."
What he asked me next I wasn't prepared for. "I need you to put a new tape in that machine and shoot some video for us." No problem, they probably just want some scene footage for their files. "You're gonna see some pretty nasty stuff, can you handle that?" Now, I grew up with a father who was a cop for 25 years; Moose used to tell us stories of the things he would see. People shot, car wrecks, bodies that had been in a house for weeks. You name it, he told us about it. So, "sure, I can handle whatever you got," now feeling quite macho in the setting.
As I go under the yellow police tape past the onlookers I'm really feeling my oats now. Until Trooper Gun tells me to watch where I'm about to step, "that's brains." OK, a little perspective here. We're still a good 200 feet from where the car made contact with the light pole and guard rail yet the car is at rest with a LOOOOONNNNGGG trail of blood coming from it. Little did I know that a little brain matter and skull fragments were nothing compared to what I was to see later.
I was asked to tape everything. The amount of blood, the brain matter, skull, the car, now upside down with no roof. And then, they did it. They lifted the sheet off the guy in the bushes. He'd been ripped from the car upon impact and thrown into the brush about 50 feet away. He had no face, just an open, empty skull. Parts of his body had been ripped off or open and I just kept telling myself to "look through the viewfinder, look through the viewfinder." Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, one of them yelled out, "ya gotta come look at this." There, laying in the grass was what looked like a rubber mask. Just a face. Completely peeled off. Now, I'm not real sure what went through my mind at that particular time, but looking back it now I can't believe I didn't ralph. I think it was just so surreal that it really didn't sink in. I do remember looking at it because I just couldn't believe what I was seeing. And to top it off, we thought it belonged to the guy under the bushes but it actually belonged to the girl still in the car some 200 feet away!
I also remember getting the call from the State Police office telling us the driver had been charged about a week later and telling us we could come over to the post and get video of them walking him to a patrol car to be taken to jail. It was the saddest walk I've ever shot. He was using a walker because of his injuries sustained in the crash so it took about 5 minutes for him to walk the short distance to the trooper's car. He was prosecuted for his foolish, drunken act. Although somehow I think killing his two friends is probably more punishment than the time behind bars.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
When severe weather breaks, we fix it
OK, so everyone in the business knows the term "weather woodie." But, for those of you not in this wild world we call broadcast journalism, (you know, TV) I'll tell you what a weather woodie is. OK, for the adults, you know what a woodie is. Well, meteorologists get one when the weather heats up.
We had a severe case of weather woodies popping up today as the remnants of Tropical Storm Cindy came through our area. I was dispatched with my running mate, Brent Campbell to "DRIVE TO YADKIN COUNTY! THERE'S A TORNADO WARNING!" as soon as I walked in the door shortly after nine in the A-M. After a quick glance at my own favorite weather website, www.wunderground.com, I predicted we'd be WAY behind the storm if we went to Yadkinville in the middle of the county. So up highway 67 to get more "into" the storm around the northern county town of Boonville. No luck, storm gone and nothing to show for it.
So, on up highway 601 towards Dobson and Mount Airy, Andy Griffith's hometown and the model for Mayberry. I digress. Once in Mount Airy we hook up with John Shelton, the nicest, most media friendly EMS Director in the Piedmont. The Surry County Director showed us around their Emergency Dispatch Vehicles and the command post where they track storms and flood potentials. While we're there we spot a storm headed our way from the south. Brent and I both look at each other and say, "see ya later guys, we've got a storm to catch."
On the way down I-77 we see the rain pick up in intensity and recall what we'd just heard from Shelton's assisant Tony, who watches the storms on his computer. He described how you'll face light rain, heavy rain, then small hail. Finally, if you see large hail you'd better get out of that oversized billboard known as a live truck and get in a ditch because a tornado is probably not far behind. We figured we better save the truck and find a good spot to watch and listen to the scanner for info. So while shooting some video of the rain coming in sheets and the winds going from fierce to quite calm we start hearing scanner chatter talking about a possible tornado coming through Dobson. We just happened to be sitting about 3 miles west of Dobson. Then a voice comes through the scanner saying there was rotation over the Citgo. Ummmmm, one thing. WHICH CITGO?!?! We're sitting at a CITGO! And while the sky did do some funky things, we never saw any rotation over our heads.
So, now that the storm looks to have moved of to our north and east, and we confirm this with some in the newsroom watching the radar and listening to the non-stop coverage from our team of meteorologists (well, today it was pretty much Emily Byrd as the rest of the "team" was on vacation) we decide to drive in behind it again to see if there's any damage. We hear some chatter about something on Redbrush Road in Mount Airy and decided to head that way. On the way there we hear Shelton's voice come through stating that he can see roation looking to touchdown. He then states something that I'll never forget, "the rotation is coming down on South Franklin at Bleumont." One problem, we're driving on South Franklin. Where? No lie, we look at the next cross street and you guessed it, Bleumont! I yelled at Brent, "we're in it!" After driving a few more blocks and turning around to see this horrific event take place in front of our eyes, we see nothing. It seems the rotation never made it to the ground.
Something did make it to the ground in our home county of Forsyth. While we don't know if it was straightline winds or a tornado ther was significant damage in northwestern Winston-Salem. Many trees came down on houses and power lines. Unfortunately, there are still close to 10,000 homes without electricity. Fortunately however, no reports of injuries.
So, that's what it was like in the day of a weather woodie. Now we'll just sit back and wait until Dennis comes through this weekend.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Destination... Myrtle Beach
OK, so this post is coming "post-vacation," but I'll go with it as if it's coming day of. Myrtle Beach, as many of you know, is a different kind of vacation destination. While it's perfect for some families, it's not for everyone. Redneck heaven as some call it has a spot in our family's hearts because there's something for everyone. We stay in a villa in Kingston Plantation just a stones throw away from the ocean and, more importantly, Splash Park, an overgrown jungle gym for all ages. I'll post pictures when developed.
Oh yea, we were just on our way out. It brings back memories of childhood vacations. Of packing up the car and heading south during spring break. My parents always made sure we went somewhere, from the days when I was 5 and spending time in a cabin on a lake in Sanford, FL to the time our car broke down my senior year in high school and my dad told my brother and I to take the other car and go by ourselves! I'll never figure that one out... sorry dad. What I'll never figure out is how we did all that with five children. We've got two and it seems our full size Yukon XL is bursting at the seams with suitcases, stroller, beach toys, chairs, umbrellas and food. We even carry some on top! How my parents ever did it is beyond me. You're to be praised highly for your puzzle-like packing skills.
Oh yea, we were just on our way out. It brings back memories of childhood vacations. Of packing up the car and heading south during spring break. My parents always made sure we went somewhere, from the days when I was 5 and spending time in a cabin on a lake in Sanford, FL to the time our car broke down my senior year in high school and my dad told my brother and I to take the other car and go by ourselves! I'll never figure that one out... sorry dad. What I'll never figure out is how we did all that with five children. We've got two and it seems our full size Yukon XL is bursting at the seams with suitcases, stroller, beach toys, chairs, umbrellas and food. We even carry some on top! How my parents ever did it is beyond me. You're to be praised highly for your puzzle-like packing skills.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Back in the Saddle
Wednesday found me back in my "home" office of Winston-Salem. Brent and I have a knack for finding a story when there's nothing there. Today we tossed out a few ideas to the voices on the other end of the little white box on our desk in the bureau, the speaker phone. After a little debate around the conference room they decide they want us to do a preview of a lawsuit being filed in Raleigh tomorrow. Exiting stuff!
Changing Gears
So after doing a thrilling phone interview with the attorney filing the lawsuit against Dell on behalf of the "taxpayers," (yea, right) we then find out that the local police department has vests that are now compromised because a material inside is not holding up like it was supposed to. WSPD is not the most media-friendly in our area but after Brent talks to the chief for a while she agrees to let the equipment buyer for the department tell us about their bullet-resistant vests.
What I found amazing while working on this story was the testing that WSPD does on ALL vests they are thinking of buying. They fire some 20 rounds into the vest using a variety of bullets and guns all at point blank range. None of the "legal" bullets even compromised more than the first three layers of the more than 20 the vest has. Only one bullet made it to the last layers, a "special" illegal bullet the manufacturer told the testers with WSPD would make it through the vest. I'm told the manufacturer on scene just dropped his jaw when it didn't make it through.
During the interview I get a call from my boss, Keith Hale. He's in Greensboro talking with Guilford County Sheriff B.J. Barnes about the vests they use. Keith tells me he can get a couple of vests from B.J. for us to use in our live shot. Great news considering the powers-that-be always want us to show something in our live shots. Score one for The Chief!
Home
Coming home is one of the hi-lights of the day. All my girls are just as happy to see me as I am them. On this evening I pull in to the driveway with the smell of a fresh rainfall, the driveway is wet and it's more than a little steamy. This probably keeps Lauren from performing one of her recent rituals upon my arrival at home. I often can hear the smack, smack, smack of her bare feet on the garage floor running to meet me at my logo'd four-wheel drive. As I gather my camera and spent battery(s) she likes to see what else is in the truck.
Caroline is waiting at the top of the basement steps looking through the gate saying, "Hiiieeee." That smile can not be resisted. After some hugs and kisses she wants to show me something, anything... just come with me she begs.
As Lis comes home from work she tells me some good news. It seems the private school we had hoped to send Lauren to for Kindergarten but found it to be too expensive is now reconsidering our request for financial aid. Maybe they didn't fill all the slots this year, maybe they just really want Lauren to come, I don't know. What I do know is that we've got some decisions to make over the next few weeks. I'll keep you posted.
Changing Gears
So after doing a thrilling phone interview with the attorney filing the lawsuit against Dell on behalf of the "taxpayers," (yea, right) we then find out that the local police department has vests that are now compromised because a material inside is not holding up like it was supposed to. WSPD is not the most media-friendly in our area but after Brent talks to the chief for a while she agrees to let the equipment buyer for the department tell us about their bullet-resistant vests.
What I found amazing while working on this story was the testing that WSPD does on ALL vests they are thinking of buying. They fire some 20 rounds into the vest using a variety of bullets and guns all at point blank range. None of the "legal" bullets even compromised more than the first three layers of the more than 20 the vest has. Only one bullet made it to the last layers, a "special" illegal bullet the manufacturer told the testers with WSPD would make it through the vest. I'm told the manufacturer on scene just dropped his jaw when it didn't make it through.
During the interview I get a call from my boss, Keith Hale. He's in Greensboro talking with Guilford County Sheriff B.J. Barnes about the vests they use. Keith tells me he can get a couple of vests from B.J. for us to use in our live shot. Great news considering the powers-that-be always want us to show something in our live shots. Score one for The Chief!
Home
Coming home is one of the hi-lights of the day. All my girls are just as happy to see me as I am them. On this evening I pull in to the driveway with the smell of a fresh rainfall, the driveway is wet and it's more than a little steamy. This probably keeps Lauren from performing one of her recent rituals upon my arrival at home. I often can hear the smack, smack, smack of her bare feet on the garage floor running to meet me at my logo'd four-wheel drive. As I gather my camera and spent battery(s) she likes to see what else is in the truck.
Caroline is waiting at the top of the basement steps looking through the gate saying, "Hiiieeee." That smile can not be resisted. After some hugs and kisses she wants to show me something, anything... just come with me she begs.
As Lis comes home from work she tells me some good news. It seems the private school we had hoped to send Lauren to for Kindergarten but found it to be too expensive is now reconsidering our request for financial aid. Maybe they didn't fill all the slots this year, maybe they just really want Lauren to come, I don't know. What I do know is that we've got some decisions to make over the next few weeks. I'll keep you posted.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Working with the new guy
So I headed off to High Point to train on the satellite truck. You see, we now have a new digital uplink for our much outdated analog sat truck. It was necessary for me to get some training on this new $40,000 piece of equipment so the next time our regular sat truck op is on vacation I'll be ready to pull the trigger. While I'm on the subject, I've got to tell you a little about our big black behemoth of a sat truck. It came to us seven long years ago from WAGA, the Fox affiliate in Atlanta. Let's just say it was on it's last leg at that time with 10 good years of service and several hundred thousand miles logged on the odometer. Three, yes three, engines later here at Fox the "big black box" is still running.
After my training session with a very New England sounding Wolf Coach engineer I was ready to "pull the trigger" on my first digital uplink. It worked and all was good in the uplink world.
I was ready to take my engineering hat off and place the photojournalist lid upon my head when Robert informed me I had a really "great" story to work on with Jeff Varner, our newest Anchor/Reporter. It seems Jeff had been making phone calls all morning to get the family of a recently killed little 5 year-old girl in a drunk-driving accident. The little girl's organs were donated to five different people and their lives saved. Ain't the news business grand!? Well, after a little trip over to the family's house, Jeff finds out the mother is upset because some other family members set up the interview without her knowledge. No story right? Wrong. The desk decides we should go to the scene of where the accident happened nearly FIVE days ago. Sounds reasonable.
So we make it to the accident scene and find three ladies on their porch just watching the day go by. Of course our finely quaffed friend Mr. Anchorman feels he can charm his way to an interview with the toothless wonders on the porch. Much to his dismay, the ladies declined, instead sending us to the corner where we encountered an old gentleman who told us very colorfully what he saw that night. During the interview my hip began to ring, you know the intrusive device we all can't do without nowadays. The CELL PHONE. On the other end, our Assistant News Director informing me of "Breaking News." It seems the Winn-Dixie company was closing all of it's stores in North Carolina. Jeff and I rush to the nearest grocery to get reaction from frightened customers. Oh, the humanity, our Winn-Dixie is closing, what will we do?
Through it all, Jeff kept a smile on his face and did live shots for the Five and Six o'clock newscasts. Tomorrow, back to my comfort zone in Winston-Salem and my buddy Brent Campbell.
After my training session with a very New England sounding Wolf Coach engineer I was ready to "pull the trigger" on my first digital uplink. It worked and all was good in the uplink world.
I was ready to take my engineering hat off and place the photojournalist lid upon my head when Robert informed me I had a really "great" story to work on with Jeff Varner, our newest Anchor/Reporter. It seems Jeff had been making phone calls all morning to get the family of a recently killed little 5 year-old girl in a drunk-driving accident. The little girl's organs were donated to five different people and their lives saved. Ain't the news business grand!? Well, after a little trip over to the family's house, Jeff finds out the mother is upset because some other family members set up the interview without her knowledge. No story right? Wrong. The desk decides we should go to the scene of where the accident happened nearly FIVE days ago. Sounds reasonable.
So we make it to the accident scene and find three ladies on their porch just watching the day go by. Of course our finely quaffed friend Mr. Anchorman feels he can charm his way to an interview with the toothless wonders on the porch. Much to his dismay, the ladies declined, instead sending us to the corner where we encountered an old gentleman who told us very colorfully what he saw that night. During the interview my hip began to ring, you know the intrusive device we all can't do without nowadays. The CELL PHONE. On the other end, our Assistant News Director informing me of "Breaking News." It seems the Winn-Dixie company was closing all of it's stores in North Carolina. Jeff and I rush to the nearest grocery to get reaction from frightened customers. Oh, the humanity, our Winn-Dixie is closing, what will we do?
Through it all, Jeff kept a smile on his face and did live shots for the Five and Six o'clock newscasts. Tomorrow, back to my comfort zone in Winston-Salem and my buddy Brent Campbell.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
My Day Off
For the first time in what seems like a decade, I slept in. Yes, I didn't get out of bed until 9:30 this morning. To some of you that's your normal time out of bed; for those of you with children, you know what I'm talking about.
Because my mother-in-law lives with us I can do this while she takes care of the little ones. And now that our summer baby sitter, Kendra, is with us I can let her take Lauren to the pool. Lauren is our oldest daughter, now 4. Her little sister, Caroline, is 14 months. And I call her Lauren's little sister because she would not have it any other way.
I started my day off like I would any other, but I had big plans for the next few hours. Lunch with my wife Lis, a trip to my favorite shopping place, Costco... and if I was lucky, maybe a little time at the pool. On the way to lunch I made a trip to Ritz Camera to drop off a roll of film. I still like the feeling I get from the canister. You know, the film all rolled up inside with images that you think you've got, but really aren't sure how they'll look. The surprise when you pick up the pictures and you nailed it. You know the one, your little girl is playing in the sprikler on a hot summer day and the water is captured in time, suspended in mid-air, a drop on her chin just hanging there. The smile of complete innocence. This one.
Because my mother-in-law lives with us I can do this while she takes care of the little ones. And now that our summer baby sitter, Kendra, is with us I can let her take Lauren to the pool. Lauren is our oldest daughter, now 4. Her little sister, Caroline, is 14 months. And I call her Lauren's little sister because she would not have it any other way.
I started my day off like I would any other, but I had big plans for the next few hours. Lunch with my wife Lis, a trip to my favorite shopping place, Costco... and if I was lucky, maybe a little time at the pool. On the way to lunch I made a trip to Ritz Camera to drop off a roll of film. I still like the feeling I get from the canister. You know, the film all rolled up inside with images that you think you've got, but really aren't sure how they'll look. The surprise when you pick up the pictures and you nailed it. You know the one, your little girl is playing in the sprikler on a hot summer day and the water is captured in time, suspended in mid-air, a drop on her chin just hanging there. The smile of complete innocence. This one.
Ken Cravens is a photojournalist in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Ken has been in the television news business since 1994. Along with his photojournalist job at Fox 8News, Ken also operates the Satellite truck part-time. Some of Ken's other duties include anchoring part of Fox 8 Friday Football in the Fox8/Winston-Salem Journal Newsroom.
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