(I am writing stories about some of the stories I have covered, so far, in my career. Each one taught me something about myself and the profession)

Sometimes it’s not the story that you remember, it’s the food.

In the late 1970’s, I was a young reporter working for WTHR-TV in Indianapolis. It was December of 1977 and the coal miner’s union decided to go on strike. Southern Indiana is full of coal mines and miners, so this became a major local story.

We left the station very early one very cold morning heading for the union coal mine. It was dark when we left and all we had was coffee to keep us awake and warm. WTHR Photojournalist Pat Thatcher was a veteran and I was glad to have him manning the CP-16 film camera. We knew the miners could be a difficult bunch, especially when they were on strike. Many didn’t see the media as their friend. Many were just tough, hard-working coal miners who didn’t like outsiders from Indianapolis invading their neighborhoods.

We made great time and arrived near the mine entrance about an hour before the first scheduled shift change. That is when the first picket lines were supposed to appear and when we could get our first reactions. Pat and I were sitting in the news car with the engine running and the heater going full blast. It was below freezing. He turned to me and said, “I’m hungry, let’s get something to eat”.
He put the car in gear and headed back toward the main road. He said, “I am dying for some hot biscuits and gravy!” I had no idea what he was talking about. I had never heard of biscuits and gravy! I said, “what the hell is that?” Pat looked at me like I was crazy, “you have never had biscuits and gravy?” Nope, I said. Don’t know what they are but I am willing to try anything. Growing up in Wisconsin, we had cheese curds and beer for breakfast sometimes, but never biscuits and gravy. It’s traditionally a southern dish and this was my first time living outside of Wisconsin, so I was learning all kinds of new things. We pulled into the snow-covered parking lot of the café and, with a sly smile, Pat said wait here I will get you some biscuits and gravy.

This coal miners strike was a big deal. It was not just Indiana miners’ this was what they called a “wildcat” strike of miners in several midwestern states. It was clear the union leadership had little control over the men and that made it dangerous. This was life and death for the workers and no one knew how far they would go to make their point.

I saw Pat push the door open and walk toward the car. He was carrying a brown paper bag, like the kind we used to get at the grocery story. He jumped in and set the bag between us. “Let’s get back to the mine road,” he said, then we will dig in. The car filled with the smell of sausage. That’s what it smelled like to me. During the short ride back to the mine, Pat again was amazed that I had never tasted biscuits and gravy. He said it was a staple in his home growing up and it reminded him of his family.

We stopped at the mine entrance. No one was there yet. Pat opened the paper bag and handed me a plastic fork and a Styrofoam food container. It was hot on the bottom, but it felt good in the cold. I opened the lid and, for the first time, saw biscuits and gravy. It was gray. OH! It smelled great, but it was just a pile of gray slop. Pat said, “dig in” and I did. Cautiously at first, but after the first couple of bites I was hooked. It was delicious! A young man from Wisconsin who moved to Indiana was now becoming more of a southern food lover.

We finished our breakfast and just as the cars of the striking miners began to arrive. We put on our caps and gloves and got our gear from the truck and began working. Our stomachs were full.

The strike was very violent. It lasted over 3 months. During another one of our trips to cover the strike action, the tires on our news vehicle were slashed in a union headquarters parking lot. The miners were feeling the pressure and didn’t want the media to see it. The strike lasted more than a year.

It was a good story but mostly, that day, it was a good breakfast. It’s one I will never forget.

This podcast will help you understand how we got to where we are in broadcast news today

(I have been writing stories about some of the stories I have covered, so far, in my career. Each one taught me something about the profession or myself)

Yes, I Interviewed O.J. Simpson! And yes, I have an opinion about who killed Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman. First, let me share with you the story of how I got the chance to sit down with the man accused and then acquitted of murder. I was living in Elizabethtown, Kentucky where my family and I had just purchased a radio station. It was a major change of life after living and working in Los Angeles for the past 15 years. I went from major market news anchor to local radio station owner. It was a real challenge and we loved it.

It was just before Christmas of 1995. The big story that fall was the Simpson trial. He was found not guilty. Johnnie Cochran said about the bloody glove, “if it doesn’t fit, you must acquit.” The jury did.We had the entire staff of WRZI radio at our rented home on the north side of Elizabethtown. It was the first radio staff Christmas party. We were excited and proud and just getting to know our new family.

About an hour into the party my phone rang. When I answered I heard the voice of a man who I had played golf with in L.A. Tony Hoffman was known as the “King of Infomercials”. He planned and produced those half hour TV ads that sold all kinds of products from kitchen devices to hearing aids. Tony knew I had left L.A. for Kentucky and the radio business, but he said he had a job offer for me. He wanted to know if I was interested in interviewing O.J. Simpson. I didn’t know what to say. My house was full of my new work family and that was the priority now, but the prospect of sitting down with one of the most sought-after news makers in the past decade was too much to ignore. The deal was simple. Tony had been hired by Robert Kardashian to produce a video. Some of the video would include O.J. leading viewers on a tour of his Rockingham mansion and talking about the night Nicole was killed. However, most of the video would be a 90-minute, unedited, uncensored interview with Simpson. The video would be sold by mail-order directly to people interested in hearing his story. I hung up the phone and was stunned. I went back to the party, but my mind was elsewhere.

The next morning, I called my friend and former agent, George Bane. He was the man who managed my TV news career in Los Angeles for the previous decade and a half. I trusted him. He said it was a great opportunity but only if we controlled the interview. We needed to make sure it was journalistically sound.

There was no Facebook in 1995. YouTube was not on the radar. This pre-produced video to distribute journalism was going to be controversial. We just didn’t realize HOW controversial. George negotiated the deal. 90 minutes with O.J. and I controlled the questions. They agreed. We wanted just two camera people, O.J. and me in the room so no one could give him any signals about answers. I wanted it just to be me and him, face to face. Also, we needed to be able to ask anything. Again, agreed. I was hired by Tony Hoffman’s production company as a freelance journalist to interview the man everyone wanted to interview. The plans were made for a trip to Los Angeles in early January. It was difficult, but I had to keep quiet about it in Elizabethtown, Kentucky. The story would get out soon enough that a local radio station owner was about to make headlines again.

I arrived in L.A. and went to the Holiday Inn at Sunset Blvd. and the 405 freeway. I spent the evening studying court transcripts and videos. This was probably going to be the first time and, maybe the only time, O.J. Simpson would be questioned directly about what happened. I wanted it to be good. The next morning there was a knock on the door. The man said the driver was ready to take me to O.J.’s Rockingham estate. When I got downstairs, there was a van with the windows blacked out. Reporters had gotten word that there was to be an interview, but they didn’t know who was going to ask the questions. The secret didn’t stay a secret for long. Rockingham was a zoo. In the den just off the kitchen, the TV production crew had the table and the lights ready to go. There were still photographers from People Magazine. They got exclusive access to the video shoot. George Bane, my agent, went down the hallway into the production room next door to the room used by Kato Kaelin. We heard all about it during the trial. I sat down at the small table to wait for O.J. To my left in a glass case was the Heisman Trophy.

He came in. We said hello. I shook his hand. I won’t go into everything in the interview. It’s available for you to see on YouTube. I hope you watch it. It’s good journalism. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=biwNu5IXI2M

After the interview I was exhausted. My agent took a video copy to put in his safe to ensure O.J.’s people would not edit it in any way before it’s release. We were confident our interview was solid and credible. I asked him if he killed his wife and Ron Goldman. If you watch the interview you can look into his eyes and decide for yourself if he’s lying. I was shuttled to the airport. The plane took off and several hours later I was back in Elizabethtown, Kentucky. It was only the beginning of a swirl of controversy. My small-town radio station became “ground zero” for the controversy over why I agreed to do the interview instead of allowing a major TV network to do it. I agreed because I was given access. I did the right thing. I got the scoop.

Geraldo Rivera was very angry, maybe jealous. Dateline did a story about how I allegedly “sold out” and allowed “the killer” O.J. to make money off the video. I reminded them that he was acquitted. I had to respect the jury’s decision. I just wanted people to have the chance to hear him answer some hard questions.

Someday I will write an ethics essay about this project and the journalism ethics involved. For now, I just wanted you to know what happened. It was a tornado of demands for interviews. It was regular people calling to say I sold out. It was the people of Elizabethtown wondering, sometimes out loud, what the hell was going on at that new radio station on Dixie Highway.
George Bane always used to tell me, “make a splash”. I had done that.

Now, when I am asked “so, did O.J do it?” I have an answer. When we see each other next time, I will tell you that story.