Thread by @devinbartolotta

With Gov. Tim Walz’s name in the news, I’ve been thinking about the time he and his congressional staffers pulled my car out of a ditch when I was a 22yo reporter in Minnesota. It is one of the most embarrassing days of my career.

Let me tell you a story I will never forget. 🧵

It’s February 3, 2014. I am running late to shoot a press event at a home near West Concord. The deep culverts along each farm road are filled ground-level with snow and the roads are slick with fresh powder. As I pull up to the home, I see the other reporters are already inside.

I am stressed and rushed. As I go to park, I begin to slide. I mean, really slide. I am skiing across the road in my small, company-owned SUV… directly toward the 4-foot-deep ditch full of snow.

And I glide right in.

The car tilts and sinks, burying the driver’s side door up to the window and leaving me at about a 45° angle. I look to my left, over the snow, into the home’s big picture window. Congressman Walz and about five journalists are staring right back at me.

Now, 2014 was before we documented every breath, so I have no photos of this part. But I have a vivid memory of then-Congressman Tim Walz entering full Dad mode; he bolted out of the house and jogged down the icy driveway in dress shoes (and I think a sweater vest?) to my rescue.

Meanwhile, I’m clambering over the center console in a dress to escape the passenger door, get my camera, and get to this event. I don’t even realize the situation is as bad as it is until Walz asks if I’m okay. He promises he’ll help get my car out, and carries my tripod inside.

Inside, my lens fogs up in the warm house and I can’t focus because I’m wondering if the situation with my sinking SUV is really worse than I thought (It was!), if I should text my boss (absolutely not!), and if my $13/hour pay would be docked for any repairs needed (yikes!)

I looked up the weather history for this day. It was 2 whole degrees at the time we headed back outside, but my face was red hot with embarrassment.

Just when I was hoping they’d let me leave the car there until spring, the congressman was asking for my floor mats.

He stuck them under the tires for traction. He enlisted his staffers and another reporter to help push on the back bumper while I gunned the gas.

After an eternity, Walz had to leave for another event, but said to his staffers, “you don’t leave until she’s back on the road.”

With minimal cell signal, I was grateful.

We spent at least 35 minutes pulling, pushing, and digging in the snow in dress clothes on that 2° morning. We almost yanked the bumper off another news car trying to tow me out.

Thankfully, mail carriers drive Jeeps in farm country, and a mail lady saved the day.

I thanked them all many times and they ensured they wouldn’t tell my boss. (Hi, Noel!)

If any of you are reading this, thank you again. I’ve been telling this unfortunate tale for a decade.

The story from the presser, script here at my edit station, aired at 6.

I have always wondered how the debrief was back at the office for Walz and his guys, and if they remember this day as clearly as I do: the day they should have just told a young reporter to call a tow truck.

Thank you for your warm responses to this funny memory! Now that I have your attention...

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