Typical evening in the Lohmiller household. Wine and walking through the yard preceded dinner which was til about 7:30pm. The whole time mockery was sprinkled within the conversation and as usual rival occurred. The problem is that my younger siblings are growing up. Actually they're out growing me.
I got into to around 8:15 am Monday morning and checked my work email, added paper to the printer, and looked to see what my assignments were. I didn't have much to do other than cover a press conference by the police chief. Well when I got to city hall with the other photographer we saw a news station videographer standing by the side door. Big Mike was waiting for Aaron Noyer to be walked out by police. I had been gone for the week and didn't know why there was a secret perp walk. Noyer was the lead suspect in a child abduction. Rob, the other photographer then found out that the press conference was about the missing two year old girl.
I missed the press conference. So I shot two cops being sworn in a was able to get an interview with the police chief. They found the little girl too late. She was taken from her room, sexual assaulted, and then strangled to death. I then had to shoot video of this story. It was a very hard day. I had to go to the site where the found the body and then to the little girls house.
If shooting was difficult, the editing of the video was. I understand why this is called hard news. There's nothing about this story that is easy. There's nothing about these types of stories that will ever be easy. Now as I sit in the office listening to the police scanner through the left ear, my right ear can hear the reporters and editors having a pow-wow discussing where this story is going. The plot continues to thicken with this story, it's too bad that this won't be the last time something like this appears on the news.
About a week ago I had to photograph the Erie SeaWolves, the minor league baseball team. This meant I dragged around a lens that was heavy enough to kill a person, hung out in the dugout, and tried to follow a game that I know nothing about.Knowing what I do about baseball, which is absolutely nothing, I basically switched from dugout to dugout and would switch from fan watching to sport watching. I now understand why sports photographers study the games with religious fervor, there are many nuances you can miss when you don't understand how the sport is played.Another thing about the game I never realized was how much spitting occurs. Seriously. At any point during the five innings that I was there, I could find someone spitting. Whether they were on the field, in the dugout, waiting to bat; someone is spitting, like Men's Warehouse I guarantee it. And this spit is not the usually saliva mixture, nope it's a wonderful concotion of saliva, gatorade, and chewing tobacco. There was no tip-toe through the tulips but rather try not to step in spit.
