Death Threats

I would have said: "Better thanks. How do you like your games not being covered?"

And left.

 

That would have been a more appropriate response, but I didn't come up with it at the time. I did bust the same school on a couple big stories down the road. I guess what goes around does indeed come around from time to time.

 

Awesome. Totally awesome.

 

Some of my patients are unhappy when they are refused narcotics, or other controlled substances. Some are mentally unstable. I hope that reasonable family members are rarely dissatisfied with my bedside manner.

 

I've had one reporter threatened. She was savvy enough to tape the conversation. Cops handled it very nicely.

I have been waiting for the local Nazi wannabe to cross the line. So far, he's tiptoed up to it then chickened out.

Always call the cops. Word gets out.

 

I would have left. Fuck 'em, they must not want coverage if they need to act like asses. Your brother is more important than the biggest game in the history of the biggest sport, much less some random volleyball game.

I also would not have covered any more of that team's home games that season, and let the coach know exactly why if he/she asked.

I've received a bodily harm threat or two. Mostly while standing on the sidelines at prep soccer games, called out from the stands, people noting they'll follow me to my car, etc. A moment of nervousness, but that's really just idiots looking to make ass. Received a few letters that I hung up in the office for amusement.

Made a point to cover as many of that school's home games as I could, but would have anyway since they were our best team. Here I am, say what you've got to say, losers.

No real death threats, thank goodness.

 

I left before it ever got to the point that it could be a death threat, but I had some pretty interesting info on one of the drug dealers in town from a former girlfriend and was connected enough to the police officers that I knew he was the primary suspect in a murder investigation and had heard from people around town that he was bragging about having killed this guy. The only person I told about the information I knew from his former girlfriend was my editor. She told me if they ever arrested him for the murder that we were running whatever information we had/could get. I absolutely refused to put my name on the story. I said they could run it without a byline at all, but that I was not going to be connected to the story.

The guy had a history of making people who gave information to police or cross him go away. I was in no mood to be one of those people. From everything I have heard, the guy who got killed was one of those people.

Other than that, just a bunch of nasty physical violence threats. Nothing ever came of them and I didn't make a big deal about them.

 

I wish you had smiled sadly, walked over and put your hand on the guy's shoulder, and said, 'Thank you so much for asking....Mom's doing a little better now that the funeral is behind us....we finally found a good orphanage for his kids, what with their mother still in the coma...it means so much to know so many people really care. Hey, I better get to work, God bless!'

 

I bow to the wit that is 21.

 

Just beating someone else to it.

 

While investigating my alma mater for wrongdoing that ultimately put the program on probation and had the entire coaching staff canned, I had my legs and my life threatened. These were serious warnings: The coach's brothers were union goons, one of whom had a prison record (embezzlement) and was reputed to know where certain bodies were buried. After the smoke cleared, one of their neighbors laughed about it and said I didn't have anything to worry about.

"The reason you're still alive," he said, "is you didn't write anything that wasn't true."

 

In a lot of situations, those of us in radio have a better deal than print people but this isn't one of them. Anyone who's ticked at us knows where we are for a set period of time every day. My old radio station thought it was a great idea to have our studio in a shopping center complex. People could literally walk up to the window of the studio and wave, flick us off, moon us, you name it. Great plan, huh?

One day, I got a call in my office from a particularly crazy listener who disagreed with my assessment of the football coaching staff's performance. He claimed he was going to settle it by taking me out that day with a 12 gauge live on the air. I didn't call it in because I knew he was full of shit and didn't want to put any fuel on the fire, but I can't deny being at least a little jumpy for the next couple of days. Six months later the guy dropped off a bag of butternut squash he'd grown by the station to apologize. For some reason, I decided to pass on cooking that up.