I got back from court today to find out that a body had been found dead in a hospital parking lot. Turns out it was a Border Patrol agent who committed suicide. 

How sad. I'm one of those people who has a hard time understanding suicide, even though it's happened close to me a few times. With the new reports revealing that the Ann Arbor firefighter who was hit and killed by a car on the freeway in Farmington was actually a suicide and then hearing this, it's devastating.

What really saddened me was talking to the police department handling the investigation and hearing the tone of their voices, how upset they were by this.

As a journalist who covers police and fire, I've developed relationships with several of the officers/officials/servicemen. You get to see a whole different side of the police and firefighters at this job. Granted, sometimes they hate you for asking too many questions or prying to get a story.

There are some detectives and police chiefs Downriver who are spectacular people and who are more than willing to work with me. There are firefighters who call me with details after a fire and who are trying to gather items for families who lost items in a fire.

And most of them are just downright good people. There's a Downriver firefighter who messages me on Facebook occasionally just to say hi and that he looks forward to reading something of mine. After being reamed by people who don't like your work, it's so nice to hear that someone does.

A few of the detectives and chiefs have taken time to ask about my background and want to get to know more things about me and what I want to do. They know that I have to ask certain questions and don't get angry about it. They know that I'll write most any story they give me and that's their way of getting some stories out in the open. It's a working relationship that I've come to treasure, as a journalist and a person.

Hearing another serviceman was in such a tragic state of mind is such a terrible thing. There's no other way to describe it, it's just really damn sad. 

I hope the serviceman/officials who I work with regularly know how much they are appreciated. Journalism would be a lot less of a career without the help from these men and women. I'd be less of a person without knowing them and the world would be a hell of a lot worse if they didn't care so much.

"We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face... we must do that which we think we cannot." - Eleanor Roosevelt 

There was a boom. Then sirens. Then a phone call.

I'm from a small community - the city of Wayne. A 6 sq. mile metro Detroit city formerly with two Ford plants.

I worked for the city as a parks and recreation employee for over six years. I wrote for The Wayne Dispatch Newspaper for over two years. Wayne is my home, born and raised, I'm not ashamed one bit.

The Wayne Dispatch files

One year ago today, at 9 a.m., there was a boom. It shook houses and drew people outside to figure out what was going on. Sirens started going off from the fire and police departments.

A building in Wayne has exploded. One of the nicest buildings in the city, William C. Frank's Furniture Store on Wayne Road.

I don't mean there was a slight fire. It exploded - fireball, buildings down the road collapsing, type of explosion.

Two employees and the owner were inside the store. People were trying to pull the owner out from underneath the rubble, parts of his body were on fire.

The Wayne Dispatch files

It was immediately on every local news channel and all over Facebook. CNN picked it up (granted they had all the names wrong, they tried to do a small town story).

It was tragic. People were standing outside everyone. One building was totally gone, two people were missing, the owner was severely injured, a passerby was injured... there aren't that people in Wayne to begin with so odds were you knew someone who was affected.

To add to it, everyone in the area was evacuated from their homes because they weren't sure where the gas leak - what they realized was the cause of the explosion - was coming from.

The Wayne Dispatch files

It's cold. People can't be in their homes. Two people are still missing somewhere in the rubble. Oh, wait, one man was found in the rubble. Rest In Peace Jim Zell, who died because he showed up at work on time. A female employee is still missing. No one knows the condition of the owner. There are still flames. Rubble is all over the street.

I had to be at the Community Center to work at 4. I left the scene, ran home and changed and went to work. We were housing all of the families who weren't allowed in their homes. There were children, adults, seniors and dogs roaming all over. News crews were there with cameras wanting interviews. Our city manager was retiring the next day, so it was confusing who everyone needed to talk to. I was working the front desk while our banquet halls were home for the families.

The Wayne Dispatch files

Local businesses came through to such an extent I can't even explain it. There was so much food available. A pizza delivery guy even stopped and picked up dog treats after hearing that families had brought pets with them.

The phones were ringing off the hook with people asking what they could do to help. People were bringing cookies, coffee, blankets, other food ... it was miraculous really. All of our employees were running around trying to keep everyone as comfortable as possible.

Finally, later on in the night, block by block people were allowed to return home.

The Wayne Dispatch files

It wasn't just the community pulling through that helped the city manage to make it through such a devastation. Most of that should be attributed to the police officers and firefighters who were there.

They spent hours upon hours at the scene. Their work never slowed down. They pulled bodies out of the rubble. They put the fire out. They saved people and moved rubble off the road. They cleaned up the area. It was a tremendous effort and they deserve much praise for their hard work.


I remember for the next several days as I wrote about the tragedy and talked with coworkers about everyone who pulled through to help out at the building, I was astonished. It was a strange feeling - one of dire sadness but yet a feeling of happiness, I was so proud of my fellow residents.

The Wayne Dispatch files

A second body, Leslie Machniak, was found in the rubble in the evening. Two people died because they got to work on time. The owner hadn't been killed by the rubble because he at the opposite end of the store when it collapsed. He remained in critical condition for weeks but eventually pulled through and returned home.

That was the first big tragedy I covered as a journalist. I hadn't yet graduated college. When people thanked me for the coverage and constant update on information, I felt like I had done something that mattered. I used our Facebook all day to communicate with residents and to answer as many questions as I could from people in surrounding communities.

I learned a lot about being a journalist that day. Especially about being a journalist in the social media times. Today I'm sending my thoughts to the families of Jim Zell and Leslie Marchniak. I'm also thanking the community and the officials once again for the amazing work they did that day. I'm thanking The Wayne Dispatch for having me as a reporter then and giving me the opportunity to capture the horror and triumphant feelings for the first time. I felt like journalism really mattered that day. Like I was meant for it. Although I had always thought that it was the career for me, I knew it for a fact that day.

While covering gruesome incidents has become an almost common for me at The News-Herald, I will never forget the Frank's Furniture tragedy in Wayne. 

“Journalism can never be silent: That is its greatest virtue and its greatest fault. It must speak, and speak immediately, while the echoes of wonder, the claims of triumph and the signs of horror are still in the air.” – Henry Anatole Grunwald