Here's a thread recap of what 2020 was like for me as a public radio reporter in #Louisville, Kentucky. Let me start by saying it was the most challenging year of my decade-long career in journalism and I at one point covered breaking news in Florida.
I'll mostly skip past the first months of the year when I was a sweet summer child, save to say that misinformation reached a fever pitch in 2020 and stories like this one from January show it was a problem long before the pandemic and the election: wfpl.org/a-decade-of-cl…
I paid close attention to news out of China. By early February I began bringing it up in our daily news meetings. That was back when we had things like office cake. I went to the grocery store to stock up on food and medicine. It never crossed my mind to buy extra toilet paper.
On Feb. 13th, @WFPLNews published out first story about COVID-19. I honestly believe (and am willing to be proven wrong) that we published the first story in Kentucky about how the virus was impacting the state: wfpl.org/travelers-arri…
In March, we abandoned our office. I went back for my computer monitor a few days later and felt like I was in I Am Legend. I wrote this "Kentucky nightlife has gone dark to stop the spread of the coronavirus." It was gut-wrenching to put together. wfpl.org/in-kentuckys-p…
March and April were spent cataloguing the toll of the shutdown, the lack of PPE and testing, and covering the first press conferences with @AndyBeshearKY. People were so scared of hospitals, emergency calls dropped 20% wfpl.org/kentucky-ems-r…
Before the U.S. began considering masks, I wrapped my face in scarves to go cover a PPE delivery because I'd seen people in China wearing masks.
May 28th I survived a mass shooting. I got a call from my editor about protests downtown. I threw together my gear, doubled up my masks and went to Jefferson Square Park.
Seven people were shot in front of me that night. I'm certain there are people in Louisville who either don't know this happened or forgot because of all that happened afterward. I caught it all on tape, but I was too shaken up to write a story. wfpl.org/photos-violenc…
That was the beginning of Louisville's summer of racial justice. I could write a book about the events, but for my part, I was teargassed, pepper balled and nearly arrested. I was threatened by both police and protesters on several occasions. wfpl.org/police-drones-…
I tried my best to capture the events as accurately as I could, tweeting, taking photos, recording tape and telling stories that held people accountable, but also shined a light on heroes when I could find them. wfpl.org/on-one-night-o…
On top of the dangers of the pandemic, more and more people began to arm themselves. Interviewing people with assault rifles became increasingly common, especially after Tyler Gerth was shot and killed in the square. wfpl.org/tyler-gerths-f…
I wasn't so much worried about someone shooting me as I was that someone might accidentally discharge their weapon causing some kind of chaos. My friends eventually convinced me to buy body armor. wfpl.org/demonstrations…
The first time I wore my body armor was the night Rep. Attica Scott was arrested and police surrounded protesters taking sanctuary in the church. wfpl.org/rep-attica-sco…
Minutes before the protest reached the church, I watched someone break a window at the library and toss in the lit flare. Scott was nowhere in sight (the charges against her have since been dropped).
Somewhere around that time, a photo I snapped went viral. I didn't catch the significance at the time, but afterwards many pointed out the irony of the poster of Alberta Jones, Louisville's first black woman prosecutor, who was murdered, in the background. popsugar.com/news/louisvill… 
Over the summer, work consumed my life, which in some ways probably helped me forget the isolation of the pandemic. As fall set in, I re-focused on the election and more the pandemic. But tragedies abounded, and I found my self writing stories like this wfpl.org/at-memorial-ma…
About two weeks ago, I came full circle on the pandemic and had the opportunity to watch the first vaccines administered in the state. It filled my heart with hope. wfpl.org/coronavirus-va…
I could keep going on lessons learned, but this thread is too long already. I will simply close with this declaration. Fuck you 2020! I survived!
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