The local news camera zoomed in for a close up.
"Hi. I'm Joe Catalano. I've been working for the city for over thirty years. Now I deliver documents for people trying to get into our low income housing."
"Joe," said the new (and in her mind, better) reporter, "what's the best part about your job?"
"Well, that's easy. When I see the kids going into their apartment and yelling about who gets what bedroom."
Hoping to get a better sound bite, the reporter responds, "That's very nice. What's the worst part of your job?"
Joe stops pushing the cart filled with hopes. He looks down, takes a deep breath, and, ignoring the camera, looks at the playground filled with children, looks at the bedroom windows covered with cartoon characters, and then looks directly at the camera.
"I help to get them in here. I help. A bad part is when a kid I helped goes bad. The worst part is when someone's kid is just sleeping and a bullet goes through their window."
The reporter says it's a wrap.
"Thanks, Joe. This will air tomorrow on the 11 o'clock newscast."
Joe nods. He looks up at the windows. He hopes this will help.
***We're certain it helped.***
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
~Helpful Citizen by Cynthia~
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
The local news camera zoomed in for a close up.
"Hi. I'm Joe Catalano. I've been working for the city for over thirty years. Now I deliver documents for people trying to get into our low income housing."
"Joe," said the new (and in her mind, better) reporter, "what's the best part about your job?"
"Well, that's easy. When I see the kids going into their apartment and yelling about who gets what bedroom."
Hoping to get a better sound bite, the reporter responds, "That's very nice. What's the worst part of your job?"
Joe stops pushing the cart filled with hopes. He looks down, takes a deep breath, and, ignoring the camera, looks at the playground filled with children, looks at the bedroom windows covered with cartoon characters, and then looks directly at the camera.
"I help to get them in here. I help. A bad part is when a kid I helped goes bad. The worst part is when someone's kid is just sleeping and a bullet goes through their window."
The reporter says it's a wrap.
"Thanks, Joe. This will air tomorrow on the 11 o'clock newscast."
Joe nods. He looks up at the windows. He hopes this will help.
He has threatened retirement for years, but I know full well he'll work until he dies. Mr. Burke enjoys his job too much to want to put it aside. He has been known for decades as the beloved driver's education instructor of the local high school.
He taught my uncle, my father, and myself to drive. In his lifetime, he's seen transmissions become automatic, cars become more aerodynamic, gas prices soar, and more than a few bad drivers, but his gentle patient nature has never gone away.
His first name is John, but he commands such respect that you'd never dare address him by his first name. Even my father calls him Mister with a kind of reverence and respect that you'd be hard pressed to find these days.
Post a Comment