(Photo has been cropped and rotated.)At 7:35 p.m. on August 16, 2008, the cacaphony of a gun battle shattered a seemingly normal Saturday afternoon. But the backdrop wasn't Bagdad, the Gaza strip, or even Detroit; it was apartment complexes and townhouses with neatly groomed gardens right across the intersection from my window. And it happened in broad daylight, with people out walking dogs and kids everywhere.
Journalism has given me an excuse to dispense with any instincts of self-preservation and common sense I might have had before (strong emphasis on might). So, instead of watching from my window like everyone else, I rushed downstairs and plunged headfirst into an eruption of tensions that have been simmering in my neighborhood since before I came to this city four years ago.
A little over two weeks later the blog Prince of Petworth agreed to publish my article about the shooting and what happened next, calling it "the definitive account" of the events of Aug. 16. You can find that article here.
Baptism by gunfire wasn't what I thought I was signing up for when I started freelancing, but something about reporting this story felt completely natural. Not easy, but right. And while I didn't manage to get this particular article into a paper, I came the closest I've ever been, and I know a heck of a lot more about how to do my job now than I did three weeks ago.
An editor I met while interviewing people on the street said she told her partner that night that I was "a natural" at crime reporting. She also said I didn't need grad school. We'll see.
